As a middle-aged divorcee in the ’burbs, I can attest that the dating opportunities cup does not runneth over.
That said, recently, I was introduced to this guy via a friend while at a bar listening to music. We had a pleasant conversation and I agreed to meet him for dinner during the week. He’s my age and his all around package was attractive. We have a drink at the bar and so far so good. We sit down to dinner and he says to me that he is very upset over the fact that he has to sell his house because he can’t afford to pay the mortgage on such a big piece of property. He goes on to tell me that it’s more the property that he is upset about losing as he has spent the last 10 years cultivating his marijuana crop and will have to start over on unknown soil. He then proceeds to give me a lesson in how to tell the male from female plants and why it’s so important to keep weeding out the males as it makes the females (which are apparently the ones you smoke) chemicals unbalanced. To prove his point he whips out a bag and opens it up for me to take a smell as “it’s the best stuff you can get”. I politely decline and ask him to put it away. Next lesson he bestows on me is how he has discovered that he can get his best high from taking out a filament of a light bulb and smoking from the bulb. At this point I have choked down my salad and I’m thinking about how to get out of there as fast as I can. Waiter comes over and asks about dessert. He declines before I can say a word. After the waiter leaves he leans over and says, “lets go out to my car and smoke our dessert”. I went to the ladies room and left out the back door.