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Its a well known fact that everyone at some point in there lives experiences a bad first date. A right of passage for most women to the notoriously non-exclusive gossip club, it allows us to vent to our fellow victims on the crimes of the mysterious male species. I was no exception.
I met a guy at a starbucks one day. Tall, dark, and handsome were a few of the words that popped into my head when I first saw him as he crossed the cafe and took a seat next to me. In a deep manly voice he asked me if he could join me. Old schoolgirl feelings of giddiness resurfaced but I remained calm and cool on the surface. I replied with a yes and he soon engaged me in the most interesting conversation on Italy, which he had just returned from.

I was sufficiently impressed and 2 hours, 3 latte's, and 2 tall drips later I was ready to marry him and for-go my fear of stretch marks to birth his perfect 2.5 kids.
He seemed pretty taken with me as well because he asked me out for that Friday night. I gave him my number and he promised to call soon to confirm I was available. We parted ways with a longer than necessary hand shake and a "see you later." I went home that night thinking that was some amazing cup of coffee.
That Friday when the much anticipated date was only hours away, I approached my "getting ready" ritual of the night in much the same way a 17 year old would groom herself for prom. I had neatly manicured fingers and toes, shaved legs and underarms, freshly brushed teeth. I had given myself a facial, spent an hour trying to make my hair look like I only spent 5 minutes doing it. Expertly applied my make-up, downplaying the smoky eye effect. Tried and rejected a total of 12 outfits and shoes. And applied two spritz of clinique happy perfume. In the end I settled on a sexy yet subtle little black corset type top with my favorite skinny jeans, black flats and a cute little black jacket. I bunched my hair on my head and added some sassy gold dangle earrings and I was ready. I looked irresistibly chic and sexy.
I even allowed myself enough time to arrive fashionably late to the restaurant we were meeting at. So I get there and I park my car not really wanting to invest $20 in valet and I walk into the restaurant and ask if "Bob" has arrived already. They lead me to a table and tell me he phoned the restaurant saying he should be there in about 10 minutes. This apparently was 20 minutes ago. So I sat and asked for a glass of wine and waited all the while contemplating

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