Fifth First Date.

Yeah, so I’m back.
I haven’t written for quite a bit and I guess I can blame the fact that not a whole hell of a lot has been going on.  Well, nothing that anyone would really want to read about, I suppose.
I obviously never hung out with “Hank.” A day or two after my last blog came out I was chatting with my friend Brad at work. He asked me who Hank really was and I told him. Brad informed me that Hank was at the gym more than I thought, and there could be a strong potential for weirdness at the workplace.  That’s exactly what I do not want in my life. Even if it were just a hook up, it could definitely get awkward if I have to see him whenever I’m at work.
So that’s that.
I started going to therapy. You’re all probably thinking, “Finally.”
Well, I am.
I’ve been in therapy a few times in my life, and therapists are all pretty different. This one seems to be the kind that doesn’t give advice or opinions, she sort of turns my questions around to make me answer them myself. I prefer this style and I really dig her but I do wish I could go back to the therapist I went to with “Afkah” (Artist Formerly Known As Husband if it’s your first time reading) before we got married. She’s super expensive and all the way in Silverlake which is quite a hike from where I live now. Afkah and I lived much closer so it was convenient and she was with us through the thick of it. It would be nice to have a therapist who already knows me and my story. And someone who knows Afkah too. But whatever, that’s not happening so it’s good that I’m down with the new chick too.
Blah, blah, blah, therapy.
Everyone always wants the Afkah update so here goes:
Well, I still hate him.

I don’t know if I really hate him or am just so fucking angry and disgusted that it makes me not want to look him in the eye. I have moments of peace with him but most of the time I try to not look at him. Really, sometimes if I have to talk to him I look at the floor or the side of his head. Haha, I’m laughing a little. It’s awfully sad but true. And I see him a lot. I’m not sure what possessed me but yesterday I went with him and Willa to The Getty Center and dinner at Don Antonio’s. I haven’t hung out with them in public for a couple of months and I’m embarrassed to say it was fun. Dancing, art viewing, and Willa being her usual hilarious self. The weather was perfect and there was a DJ playing Afrobeat music which Afkah and I both love since we saw the musical “Fela” years ago about the Nigerian musician Fela Kuti. When we were waiting for the tram to leave The Getty the sunset was stunning.  Then at dinner we shared some sizzling shrimp/steak fajitas which were delish and laughs were shared by all three of us. A few times I looked at him and said that he was a Grade A Dipshit for making such horrible choices and for completely disrespecting me. A few times I told him that sometimes I forget what a selfish moron he is but then I always remember and feel really annoyed and want him far away from me. I must say, however, that the three of us have a good time. When he was leaving at the end of the night after he bathed Willa and put her to bed he looked at me very sincerely, thanked me for coming with them, and said he had a really wonderful time. I think I smirked and said something like, “yeah, whatever.”

I don’t really care to talk about that anymore. On to the fifth first date.

“Max” contacted me via JSwipe.

Stats: 43, lives in Santa Monica, dot-commer or whatever those people are called, divorced, no kids, one dog.

Max, “Hi Ali! Good connecting with you. How old is your little one? Super cute, by the way.”

(I like him spelling out “by the way,” instead of “BTW”)

Me, “Hi. She’s 13 years old now. The pics are quite old. I’ve put on some pounds and lost a few teeth but other than that I look really similar. Kidding. She’s 17 months today.”

Max, “Happy 17 months to you both. Teeth, or at least a full set of them can be over rated. Would love to speak on the phone and go from there.”

After taking Willa to a class today I dropped her with my mom and dad and met Max at a nice shopping/eating area called Waterside near my parents’ place in Marina Del Rey in the late morning. As you know I hate eating on dates so I suggested Starbucks. So original and romantic, I know. The feeling of dread loomed over me all morning and when I arrived I of course wanted to puke. He was sitting outside when I got there. He’s very quirky. Not in an unattractive way, just seriously quirky. At first I was like, “WTF, is this guy for realz?” But then I realized he’s really funny so I didn’t mind the oddness. We talked about a bunch of stuff. He asked me about my post-marriage dating and I told him a few stories. Like when I was out with “Doctor Marty” and the table next to us was so close they talked to us the entire time. Right after I told him that story, you’re not going to believe me but I swear this happened, this dude probably in his sixties came up to Max and I and asked if we were using the extra chair at our table. We told him to go ahead and take it and he mumbled that his mother with a walker who was rolling up slowly behind him wanted to sit in the shade and she was going to sit with us. So she did. Helen was in her nineties at least and didn’t speak much English but was very sweet. When her son came back with their food I suggested Max and I take a walk because we were both cracking up at the situation and it was too weird to continue this first date while they were eating at our table.

I don’t know. We’re very different. He doesn’t exercise. Ever. Says he hates it. Look, I don’t love it, but do it and think everyone should. He has a gym in his apartment that looks at the beach that he never uses but “walks past it every day.” May sound cray but that is a turnoff to me. He doesn’t have a car because he doesn’t want one. He walks a few blocks to work and he Ubers everywhere else. He goes to Palm Springs all the time and spends $200 on an Uber so he can do stuff on his computer in the back seat with his 65lb dog sitting next to him. When I think about it it’s pretty effing rad but I can’t see myself living so freely like that. He seemed appalled that I don’t have any tattoos. Blah, blah, blah, I don’t even know what else, I’m exhausted right now. Bottom line, will I go out with him again? No clue. He text me after and said:

Max, “Hi Ali! Great meeting and hanging with you today. P.S. Helen says hi.”

Me, “Ditto! Helen’s a whore.”

Max, “LOL. I can see that. All that jewelry. C’mon Helen.

You’ll obviously know if I go out with him again so just stay tuned, I guess. I have no idea at this point…

I’ll end here.

Thanks for reading.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s