Bad dates are a fact of life. Clichéd, mundane and, typically, predictable, bad dates sneak up on everyone with the stealth of a flu virus and the benevolence of a spring breeze. That combination, the sneakiness and seeming innocence of the whole affair makes bad dates even more frustrating. Take my recent date with “Carrie” for example.
I met Carrie on a bike ride. We both seemed able to put up with each other, so we exchanged digits and arranged to meet up for dinner the next week. Everything on paper, so to speak, was set up for a full success. However, the old saying, “The best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry,” soon proved all too true.
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