A story about self-worth and, for some reason, "Sesame Street."
One Tuesday night, after a(n) (amazingly heart-piercing) show by the (amazingly heart-piercing) Amy Kuney at the Bootleg
Awkward and then some.
Just as I think I have been stood up, a lone chap arrives, clad in a lime-green anorak, looking anxious and slighter in stature than I was expecting. The barman points me out, and Home Boy steps up and greets me confidently with a kiss on the cheek. He's a bit on the skinny side, but not bad at all.
I've written before that I used to go on a lot of dates, and I've written more recently that I think I'm a pretty nice guy. Those two things -- one fact, one personal opinion -- converged over the years in my not saying some things on dates that I probably should have said. Here are a few of those:
My single friends recently shared what red flags they wish they had seen through their rose-colored relationship glasses. I set down my glass of wine long enough to take notes before the wisdom floated right out of our foggy memories.