It was a first date. He said he hated immigrants. There wasn’t a second date.

The various reactions I’ve gotten to yesterday’s post solidify my thoughts that dating is the universal’ist of all universal topics.  We’ve all got steps to celebrate [When did he bring a toothbrush over to leave at my house?  When did I assign him a speed dial number?], wounds to lick [minimal if any in this current adventure but tons of past unreturned phone calls and attempts to love], stories to share [my contacts really were dry and bothering me, it wasn’t an excuse to end the evening as he defeatedly thought!].

I love hearing your highs and lows, how you met, pet peeves, what you’ve learned about others, what you’ve learned about yourself.  Hmmm, maybe I should make a film on the topic.