I had to call David tonight and humbly ask if I could swich dinner from Old Chicago's to anywhere else. The bad date with Trent was there, and I was filled with dread at the thought of having to return to the scene of the crime. My advice is never go on a first date to a place where men can watch sports events beyond you. This will be the last event in my match dating adventure.
I know that men and women aren't supposed to be friends. Josh and I had breakfast this morning, and though this friendship may have a shelf-life shorter than soup, it's working out for now. Who else would want to discuss the dollar store pregnancy test and how given what people would spend for the best one on the market, we should package one that comes with name suggestions, sympathy/celebration cards, and a fortune cookie? He is good company.
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