One Frog Down (aka The Puker)

She walked into the restaurant hoping that she was the first to arrive. The restaurant was fairly empty and it was easy to tell that her date was not yet there. She was thankful they had agreed to meet for lunch. It provided an easier escape mechanism in case of false advertising or homicidal tendencies. The door to the restaurant opened and her date appeared. They said hello and hugged. She wondered what it was about first dates that made everyone want to hug. Maybe it was the relief of finally meeting in person, “Oh, thank God you don’t look like a mutant space alien…let’s hug.”

As her friends suspected, he was a little more talkative in person. He explained to her his aversion to mayonnaise. Not only could it not touch anything on his plate but it couldn’t be on her plate either. He didn’t like to smell it. They managed to make strained small talk until the food arrived. When lunch was served she noticed that her date’s tanned skin suddenly started to turn white. He tried not to run over the waitress as he excused himself to the bathroom. She couldn't remember ever making a man physically ill before. It was a first in her book and worthy of notation. “Waitress, can you bring me a beer?” This was definitely an occasion worth celebrating. Her date returned, still a little green, to explain that he had “a few beers” the night before for a friend’s birthday. An experienced drinker herself, she thought "I got tanked" probably would have been a better descriptor. She tried not to hold it against him but it wasn’t the best first impression he could have made.

They tried to find some common ground as they talked. He explained that, at 40, he lived in an apartment with a roommate...not because of a divorce or child support payments but because he still enjoyed the "bachelor pad" lifestyle. He raced off to the bathroom again. When he returned she politely offered to cut the date short but he said he’d be fine so they went on. She had chosen not to tell him about the piece of toilet paper stuck to his chin. He explained that he still "partied like he was 29" and that he didn't expect to give it up any time soon. She wondered if this was the truth or a blow off. Either way, it didn't matter. It saved her from the "I want to get married right away and have lots of babies" speech that she used in these situations. Suddenly, he pushed back from the table and she prepared herself to jump if necessary. She was thankful they had decided to sit outside…if necessary, he could at least lean over the railing. Once again, he raced to the bathroom.

When they parted ways, he said he’d call. She was relieved. One thing she had learned was that “I’ll call you” was international dating code for “don’t expect to hear from me”. It was obvious this one was not yet ready to settle down. Oh well, she thought, that’s one less frog I have to kiss.