Speed Dating + Pics

Last night was my first real foray back into the world of dating after getting my suckered heart broken to smithereens.  It was a doozy of a night.

I purposefully chose a Sunday night and a joint in Rockville, as I assumed it wouldn't have quite as many people.  Then I got myself all into a dither about what I would wear, like it's really all that particularly difficult (as in it's not for those of you who don't get my sarcasm).

So let's start with picture one.

Because you can't see, those shoes are high heeled TEAL pumps.  And can we note the skinny?  I SWORE I'd be one of those exes who just gets hotter post break-up.  Let's take a vote.  How am I looking?

Oh, I see.  You're not convinced.  Here's another before the stories of the evening.

I managed to use my stellar powers of persuasion and convinced Mare to go with me.  And thank you Jesus I managed to do this, otherwise I wouldn't have proof or a witness to this particular evening.

We walked in and were surrounded by women.  Uh oh.  This can't be good.  We fought our way to the bar and started chatting with a couple of guys.  The only young one there and a dude who was at least 50 years old, white hair and balding.  I couldn't tell you their names, because, really?  Are these people I truly need to remember?  One - the young one split not even halfway through.  The old one managed to find a girl.  I mean, woman.  I think.  I really kind of just stopped looking.  Since Mare and I were clearly the youngest ones there.

Or should I mention the Bill Maher look alike?  Only a lil chunkier and with longer hair?  And drunk as a flaming skunk?

Or how about the uni-brow guy with greasy hair who responded to the question of, "how are you tonight?" with "I'm out of the house, so that's something."

Or the guy who didn't know how to speak his plurals?

Or that every man has been to California and LOVES it?  I mean, really, LOVES it?  Man, I'm from there and even I don't love it that much, so I really want some of what they're all smoking.

Or what about the guy who kept poking his forehead?  Like he needed help remembering things?  He too was balding.

Or the short dude from Chicago with the high-pitched voice that I totally thought was gay?

Or or or the ones that just flowed together because they were all way too old for me?  Gray, balding, probably divorced with children?  I'm sorry, I want a family, but not a ready made one.  Sorry folks - I am just SO not ready for that.

I'm thinking that the next one will be a little better.  Not quite in Suburbia, not on a Sunday night, and it has a specific age range.  I.e. one I'd date in.  I've learned my lesson - I won't speak to men in their 20's. 

Now let me show you just how out of touch I am and just how long it has been.  This was supposed to be my sexy pucker.

Is it just me or do I (a) look confused?  (b) have bumpy hair?  and (c) have my mouth looking just deformed?