Monthly Archives: January 2016

B-I-N-G-O …

Dating and dogs.  It’s bad enough we have to compete with kids, careers, exes, and all the other people you are dating … but the dog, too?!?!?!

I am not a dog person. I really don’t like them. At work we often talk about online dating and tinder and when you should swipe right and when left … and I say if your first photo is with a dog, you’re out. (If there is a photo in which I can see a table cloth, you’re also out because I’ve come to the conclusion you live with mom…..or grandma.)  If your first photo isn’t with the pooch, but then you have 2 others with a smelly beast, you’re out.

Here’s the big problem: the dog means zero flexibility. Mr. Wonderful has to get home to let the dog out, can’t spend the night at your place because of the dog, needs you to come to his house because of the dog … it’s a vicious cycle of biscuits and bad breath.

Once upon a time I went out with a man who named his dog Giselle. Giselle?!?!? You name your dog after a supermodel and then expect me, all 5’1″ of me, not to have a complex?!?! Giselle was a rhodesian ridgeback and I’m pretty sure her legs were longer than mine. The first night I spent at his house Giselle stalked me all night, pacing my side of the bed, while he slept soundly to my right. Giselle was not happy I was there. Fast forward to another date and he said he’d be in the shower when I got there and just let myself in the back door. Ummmm….. what about Giselle the Supermodel Dog?!?!? What if she jumps on me? She won’t do that, he said. She did that…

The house smells, there is fur everywhere, and if I have to compete with Rover for shotgun I’m not going to like it.

When I was 5 we lived with my uncle. My mother was a single mom with two little girls and Uncle Gordy let us stay with him to help her out. He had three dogs ….. Mickey, Schultz, and Michael. (I think…’s been a while.) Schultz was a german shepherd and by far my favorite. One summer day, my sister and I were outside in the yard playing with the hose. The dogs were chasing after it, biting the water and having a grand ol’ time. My sister, being older than I, decided to see what would happen if she put the hose over by my foot. It wasn’t pretty … Schultz bit me, I cried, and the mean babysitter banished my sister Stephanie to her room. I have never liked dogs since.

I honestly try not to date guys with dogs. (I seem to be getting worse at that these days, though.) It’s like women and cats …. and the crazy cat thing…only worse. You can leave the cat unattended for a day or two with food. Bingo, not so much.

Back to Giselle … her dad and I didn’t work out. But, I consider him a very good friend and the night before my first day back at WTNH the three of us had a slumber party to celebrate my return and make me feel not so alone. We drank wine, then coffee, and I broke out the lint roller as part of my walk of shame.  When it comes to K-9’s, Giselle is one of the few I have come to love and appreciate. I haven’t seen her since that day and hope the dog years are treating her well. To this day I am jealous of her shapely legs and master’s devotion. (If he sends me a random how are you text it usually says something like this: “Giselle says hi.”)

Tonight I attempted spontaneity, a hard thing to come by when dating as a grown-up, and the dog got in the way. I’m not going to let it get me down … I said I saw it as a blog opportunity and so I seized it.

Dear boys … if you suddenly find yourself single and without a wife, do not immediately run out and get a dog. They don’t do dishes, don’t dust, and while they might be able to clean a toilet they generally don’t look good in an evening gown. (Or out of one, for that matter, Giselle being the exception.) They will inhibit your social life.

People often ask my kids if we have pets. Here is Cassie’s response …

“No, we don’t have animals cause mommy has kids instead. She’s just trying to remember to feed us …”

I guess the plus side to all of this is dogs eat sneakers …

Footwear … and dating

I wear heels…this we have established. Sometimes, in the warmer months, I wear flip flops …with at least a one inch platform. I like boots and sandals and classy classic pumps ….. I despise sneakers.

I also despise men who can’t seem to put a little thought into their footwear. It matters. (To me, anyway.) Dating after kids means we are more often than not looking for the reasons NOT to see you again instead of trying to appreciate the reasons why we should…..and footwear to me can be a deal breaker.

Two years ago while what’s his face was off participating in extra curricular activities, I went on several first, second, and third dates. One night I waited at the bar at Molto ….. feeling more excited than I had in quite some time about the potential that would soon walk through the door.

In he came and I think I had an instant smile. I locked his eyes ….. smiled, tried to do the once-over without seeming overly obvious……and then I saw them. Duck shoes. You know, the LL Bean kind???? Who wears Duck shoes to a first date?!?! Yes, it had snowed and there was crap on the roads, but duck shoes????? My father wears duck shoes.

The rest of the date went well. Years later I remember what we ate. (We shared a salad …… arugula …. cranberries ….. yum ….. and a flatbread.) We drank wine. I forgave the shoes and a second date was had. He wore duck shoes. We had tapas, great conversation, beverages, and duck shoes. He was well put together, drove two nice cars, had a great job, no drama ….. but was lacking in the footwear department.

I was probably looking for a reason for him not to be the right one. I wasn’t ready. He and I maintained contact for quite sometime …. attempting another go a couple of times only to fall flat for my fear of taking it to the next level. (That and the great New Year’s Eve episode of 2013 ….  it involves Chinese food and name calling….probably best told on the stage at a comedy club.) I tried to only see him in the summer months so I wouldn’t have to see the duck shoes.

Men and sneakers:

Please ….. do not wear them on a first date. I guess, maybe, if the first date is a mild hike up a small mountain …. but let’s be honest here and say that will never happen with me. Maybe, if you’re in your mid twenties and work for Google ….. I suppose that might be okay …. but even then I’m not sure.

When I think of my long term relationships, the first date footwear is as follows:

Brian: skate shoes…..we were in college ….. he was a skater …. all good.

Dave: black restaurant friendly shoes …. nothing sexy but functional and not a sneaker

Andy: black dress shoes ….. but he had on an adidas jacket with his work clothes so I almost wrote him off…… (He asked me out for dinner as we were walking to our cars …. I was a poor single mother of 2 babies…. free food was an offer I couldn’t refuse.)

George: his work boots ….. which clearly have been through more women than Hugh Hefner  …. but, not sneakers. Subsequent date nights he always wore  his cowboy boots.

Call me superficial, call me whatever ….. I don’t care. We all have our things and this is one of mine. I’ve done a little asking around and women seem to agree on this one. (And I have several guy friends who agree as well.)

Ironically, I’ve spent some QT with someone who has an extensive Nike collection ….. all lined up neatly under his bed. I know he wore sneakers on the second date but we did a lot of walking. I don’t remember the first because it was very late at night and he walked into the bar, kissed me without saying hello and then proposed. (I was flustered and forgot to look down.) His shirt was blue and white checked ….. as I write this I seem to recall he may have had sneakers on …. he must have. I questioned the sneakers …. they are perks from time spent with a certain rocker/former American Idol judge. He got a pass…..but a wedding date has not been set.

Even worse than sneakers ….. flip flops. Generally speaking, I hate feet. I happen to have cute feet, but I realize the bulk of the population does not. I’m pretty sure 99.9% of men have ugly feet and I don’t really wanna see them out in public. (Unless you’re Italian with a thick accent ….. for some reason I think then it’s okay to wear flip flops … not sure why…maybe because I’m imagining someone holding a journal in a white linen shirt and perfectly pressed khakis, saying all the right things while feeding me strawberries and biscotti…. in flip flops ….. with the Mediterranean off in the distance….I digress.)

Please guys, keep them covered on a first date ….. and most dates afterwards. You can whip those puppies out when we go to some exotic beach, but otherwise, do the world … or more importantly, me ….a favor and hide them.