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Bachelor #2 - Where's Some Flomax When You Need It?

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So there I am last night, in my non air conditioned house, trying to put my makeup on while simultaneously trying to sip my pre-date glass of wine and not have a complete hissy fit because I keep sweating off all of my concealer. Why does it feel like one hundred degrees at nine o’clock at night? After numerous attempts to position myself under my ceiling fan at the best angle to get the most wind on my sweaty, non date-ready face, I scrapped my plan and decided to move locations. I couldn’t concern myself with outfit choices at that moment, so I just went ahead and threw on the same one I wore on Sunday night with Bachelor #1. Of course I washed it…fine, febreezed it. I headed out to my car, turned on the radio and blasted the AC to the highest it could go and finished the getting ready process in my driveway. That was better. Sans runny make-up I headed to the bar Bachelor #2 and I had decided on the day before feeling all nice and chilly in my vehicle.

I parked about a block away and as I was walking up to the entrance I could feel the sweat coming. Was it really that hot last night, was I super nervous to meet this guy, or am I just a neurotic Jewish girl? I hoped I would get there first, to wipe down and clean up a little in the bathroom, but no such luck, Bachelor #2 was waiting with a big smile at a table outside. He looked just like his pictures and was very cute. Tall and strong, he was a blue eyed guy from New York. He was also bald. Not George Costanza bald, more like Bruce Willis shaved bald. That’s not usually my thing, I like shaggy haired band guys, but this was pretty sexy, I liked it. Beyond the physical, Bachelor #2 was nice to hang out with- the conversation came easily, we both were comfortable and we talked about, well everything. I liked him because he really seemed to know who he was, he wasn’t trying too hard to impress or be witty or be charming, he was just being himself and that is more attractive than any witty comment he could have made. Maybe it was an East Coast thing but my bullshit meter didn’t go off one bit. He asked me if I had any “deal breakers”. I told him yes- wearing socks to bed and saying the word “stoked” too much. He said his were liars and people who tried too hard to be witty. Oh.

Photo by Ivania*~