This guy fell short of the literary complexity of Dante himself, but did reference and compare me to one of Dante's labeled rings of hell. On a date at a Mexican restaurant, this older guy proudly pronounced himself a third-generation local. I already had a feeling we were doomed even for a second date, because I currently hate this great city he deeply loves. He ordered us two margaritas and we began sipping. They were probably the weakest things I've ever had, and if you've read my blog, you've stumbled upon several weak men. So this is saying something. He began talking about stereotypical first date items. It was almost like he was reading from an agenda. He even revealed that of the several girls he was talking to on the app, I had risen above. Smiling at the compliment, I did not indulge in the topic of his hierarchy in my dating pool. He was in there, but certainly not at the top. He did have a nice beard and held himself in a confident manner. I believe he had a good job, but it's hard to be sure when you're streamlining so many individuals at one time.... guess that's the result of bowling for dates: you'll find some unique flavors for cereal! We did have a pretty interesting conversation about narcissists... if you remember Mr. Disney/Magic Kingdom/Happiest Place on earth and Mr. Publisher and a few others... I have grave experience with narcissistic males in my life (even of blood relation). So, in a dark kind of way, we bonded on this experience over chips, salsa, and horrible karaoke that I should've taken shots to tolerate. Props to the "singers" for having the nerve to get up there but, to hear some Shakira renditions falling flat (literally) is more than I signed up for. The conversation and date continued and he denied having a vice. What? Buddy, everyone has a vice; even if it isn't a stereotypical substance, there's still one to be had. My personal vice? Chocolate. I'm low-key addicted but, we can talk smore about that another day.... Conversation continued. Once he delved into the career and future outlook topic, his language shifted to authoritative. Upon learning I was in no form-or-fashion in my dream job or dream location, he sat back with a stern look. It was as if he were a judge contemplating his next move, with no consideration of the jury. "What do you mean, you're not going to stick around?" I'm never deceptive with my intentions, especially once prompted and quite frankly, I refuse to die in Pensacola. There's SO much more of the world for me to see and I truly believe and live by the fact that you don't truly know a place until you live there. He turned to me and said, "don't you think that's gluttonous, Stephanie?" WHAT?!?!!?!? I took my stance on it and since he's a christian, I said, "God made this great, beautiful world and I fully intend on seeing as much of it as I can." "But, then you're never really satisfied with what you have....." I blocked out the rest of the conversation. I couldn't BELIEVE what he just accused me of. I will admit when I'm wrong or I have a problem (99 and he won't be one), but I assure God, Dante, and this dude I'll soon forget, that I have no gluttony problem with traveling and will continue to do so. I promise you that! PS. Later in the night, he invited me to smoke back at his house because he's "quite the smoker." VICE. Since he inferred that I should "fry" in the third ring of hell, I found these rhubarb fritters most suiting.This boy is something ELSE, down to the core.
https://www.theartofdoingstuff.com/making-fritters-monsters-fingers-rings/
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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