Eternal Mind of a Spotless Sunshine

In baseball, it is a feat to bat around the order in the same inning. That means that the person that led off the inning, is back up to the plate because the other team has not been able to cause three outs.

In my dating life, batting around the order means that I've run out of dating all the females I know and I have to start back with the first boink. Either that, or I have to recruit from another team. To help my recruitment, I enlisted the help of a "scout." A major league scout traverses the Earth trying to sneak promising ball players out of their home nations to groom them for baseball infamy. (N.b.- I hear that Madonna is now a scout)

Of course, I don't have the financial wherewithall to hire a professional scout. So I recruited the next best thing, my mother.

You would expect that my mother, who nurtured, fed, cared for me; who watched me mature from a toddler to awkward child, to more awkward adolescent, to an extremely awkward adult, would have some understanding of what I would find appealing in a mate. Apparently, she's gone with: "breathing." And, considering my last date, I can only assume that she was breathing because she didn't fall on the floor and have a convulsion. But I KNOW that oxygen was not getting to her brain.

I am going to keep out the more mundane questions (family, job, hobbies, etc.)

So after walking in a half hour late, she says that she has to use the restroom. I offer to get her a drink while she's indisposed and says that she will have a "cab". I'm sorry but a "cab" is the vehicular homicide device that I spend my existence avoiding. But, I decide to let that one go. She asks, "What are you going to have?" I decided on a Gin and Tonic (because that sounded mighty, mighty good to me) and she had this look of disgust.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

Ok, so maybe her ex was big G & T fan. Maybe she thinks only fascists drink gin. I don't know, but I had to let that one go as well.

In general the conversation flowed -- at least for five minutes until she started text messaging on her cell phone. She apologizes by explaining, "my roommate wants to go out with her boyfriend and she wants to know when I am coming home so I can watch the dogs." Umm...ok. Then she asks me:

"So when you go out on a date for drinks, how many drinks do you usually have?"

Now I know this date is DOA, and I am going to start having some fun. So I tell her, "usually around ten. If the date is going well, then we end up at one of the city's finer establishments imbibing and enjoying each other's company. If the date is for shit, I need to dull the pain."

She was not amused.

Anyway, the text messaging becomes more fervent as she is peppering serial-dating questions about my family. I tell her about my sister, soon to marry, and who is soon to be a DA (we're like our own "Johnny Dangerously" family-- just Jewish.)

So long story short, the date lasts one drink because she has to go home and watch the dogs. I then ask her if her roommate is gainfully employed. "Of course." "Then who watches the dogs while you two are at work?" I have now crossed the line from date, to the Grand Inquisitor. She says that her dogs were mistreated as pups and can't be left alone, so they have a dog walker. Now I am torn. Do I follow-up with, "So you're telling me you have a dog walker who walks the dogs 8-10 hours a day, every damn day?" But the story about the mistreated pups got to me, so I let it go.

Now I am not happy that I just spent an hour (with only one drink mind you) that has no been lost to the ether. Nonetheless, I am a gentleman and offer to walk her home as she lived in the neighborhood.

On the way home, she turns to me and asks, "Do you have any siblings?"

Thinking that she means any others, I reply, "Just the sister."

Then, I couldn't believe it. She said, "What does she do?"

"Oh. She's a chef."

"Really? That's cool"

"Yeah, she's always loved to cook but I am afraid that her busy schedule at the restaurant is going to make it hard to find a future husband."

You would think this would jog her mind about my sister and her betrothed, but she only said, "Yeah. It's hard for us working women out there to find the right one."

That was it. Luckily, we were just approaching her place, so I said, "Well, if you can find a dog walker to walk the dogs 8-10 hours a day, then I'm sure there's hope for my sister."

I wonder who is on deck.