Balls

Staring down the barrel of a week with no dates, I strapped on a pair (sorry...so vulgar!) and called the friend of a friend I had met before the holidays and asked him out.  Readers, you know this kind of courageous act is not usually my style, but the 52 dates challenge emboldened me.

Mr. #4 and I spent much of Monday afternoon and evening together, traipsing around Detroit from bar to bar in honor of Dr. King.  He is a lovely person: very smart, steady, sure of himself and his goals, affectionate, warm, honest and funny. I was delighted to spend time getting to know him.  So delighted, in fact, that our date lasted over 9 hours. Which brings me to my lesson learned...

It's easy for a date to deteriorate into just a drunkfest. So, new rule for my 52 dates: If I have more than 2 drinks, I can't count it as a date.  I'll let yesterday squeak in, but there can be no more 4-bar, 6-drink, daylong extravaganzas that leave me still drunk at 10AM.  This does not jive with my ultimate goal (big love grounded in honesty and truth...not mutual slurring and stumbling).

Onward...