So get this: A millionaire banker wants to marry me! Well, I’m not sure he wants to marry me but he’s definitely after my ass (and that thing on the other side of my ass). I was finishing up a 310 woman’s bob when her 212 banker son stopped by and immediately asked me if I was free that night. And I had to think about it for a dot. I mean, does going to Bella’s with my pals = being busy? Cause if so, then I’m never free. But I told him I was and he said to be ready at 8.
So at 7:57 he picked me up in his Porsche and drove me to Nobu’s in Malibu where we had sushi that melts in your mouth and spotted Garry Shandling eating alone. It turns out that Richard is a hedge fund banker who’s the only person on Wall Street turning a profit -- besides guys with carts who buy pretzels for a quarter and resell ‘em for a dollar. Anyway, Richard is 30, filthy rich, single and looking for a commitment. I told him I’m not so sure I’m ready for that, which, of course, made him want me more. It's weird hearing the M word on the first date. It made me wonder if he has a fatal disease or body herpes. Meanwhile, Marjorie’s so jealous she’s going to church again.
All in all, the night was lovely – dinner, then a drink at a bar on the beach where Richard taught me how to taste cognac. I didn’t really need a lesson on how to taste stuff; I did not just emerge from a coma, but I acted all intrigued about how you have to let it swirl in your mouth and such. And after swirling for about 45 minutes, he drove me home w/the top down (the car’s, not mine). And then came the big fat downer of the eve: THE KISS. Richard kisses like a fish or a limp noodle or something else really bad that you don’t want near your teeth. It was SO disappointing, because the entire night I was picturing myself married in Prada and living in Manhattan. But NOW I’m picturing myself married in Prada and living in Manhattan and cheating on my husband. Can you teach a person to kiss better? The Learning Annex fall catalogue says no, but Marjorie says yes. Stay tuned for the further adventures of me and Captain Shitty Kisser. Tomorrow must get tongue scraper and apologize to mouth.
ew, a secret half brother? i'm grossed out. but i'm going to ny anyway.
xo,
j
Posted by: Jane | August 10, 2004 at 04:02 PM
Bad kissing connection is nature's way of making sure two otherwise mutually attracted people don't combine genetics (a night of gin 'n tonic swilling notwithstanding).
Back in the day I had a "relationship" with this guy that was great: he was smart, rich, sarcastic, a good flirt and in general, a sexy thang. Even cooler: he was in love with me. But when he kissed me... it's inexplicable. I mean, I logically know that his tongue probably wasn't pointed, but I could have sworn... well it just wasn't right. I even tried it a couple more times to be sure. Maybe I should have slept with him to really really be sure, but that's just the wisdom and regrets of my 30 years talking.
Bottom line: something, somewhere out there is giving a pretty good sign that this ain't the one. He's probably a secret half-brother or undiscovered uncle. Careful!
Posted by: Laurie | August 10, 2004 at 02:50 PM
no kissing sounds key! thanks, matt.
xo,
j
a gay gyno? i guess if anything would make you switch, that'd be it.
Posted by: jane | August 09, 2004 at 11:27 AM
i once dated a guy--okay, slept with...we didn't really date...who was a doctor (he was a gynecologist which is kind of icky), cute, sweet...but when he kissed it was like...he had a flip top head and wanted to bite my face off. i had to end it. okay, we hooked up a couple more times, but no kissing.
Posted by: matt | August 09, 2004 at 09:23 AM