Frog Hunting: My First 100 Dates

Let me explain that title. 

Frog Huntingcomes from the adage, “you need to kiss a lot of frogs before you meet your prince” I have realized that my frog count was pretty low, so My First 100 Dates is my plan to go on 100 dates this year. (Let me spoil the story because it’s not going to happen, I’m shooting for the stars, over here). 

Meanwhile, in an effort to keep this in the Fun-Zone, I decided to document my dates. Once upon a time, a friend of mine told me, “When I was single, I used to go on blind dates all the time. It was either really fun, or it was terrible and made a really good story!” 

While frog hunting, I am also collecting good stories: 

 Like the time I was set up on a blind date with a guy who showed up to Starbucks 30 minutes late. No matter, I started chatting it up with a beautiful Italian man, who asked me after a few minutes flirtation if he could give me his number. “Well, I’m a bit old fashioned,” I replied (with a coy flutter of the eye-lashes). “How about I give you my number?” “Oh I would love that, yes please, please belle.” [Belle addition mine]. I jotted my digits on a napkin and (as equally as coy as the lashes) I dropped it into the center of the book he was reading. 

 Blind date finally showed up. Did not order anything when I ordered my coffee. Did not offer to pay (they always offer). Then we sat for a painfully awkward 30 minutes as I exhausted every ounce of my small-talking skills and barely got a word out of the man. Finally, without a single conversation subject left to explore, I made some comment about needing to go. 

 Like a horse waiting to be released from the starting gate, he shot out of his seat and turned quickly away. “Wait!” I cried. “Don’t I even get a hug goodbye?” 

 It was like hugging a door. 

I promptly returned to my car, laughed like the Wicked Witch of the West, and immediately began texting all my friends. 

 Thus the journey begins. I’ll see you tomorrow.