A Date With Disaster

I get to the Soho House in Hollywood. 

I am so pretty it hurts. I look at myself in the mirrors in the lobby, and, oh my god! What am I doing here. I should be on the cover of some magazine. I’m hot, but chic, but understated. I’m going on a date. I am on a mission. The mission: Paralyze the guy with my coolness. Hypnotize him with my smoky eye. Petrify him with my wits.

Yours truly sits at the bar, ready to annihilate her first date.

Yours truly’s very smart plan about finding love being winning at dates.

Yes. Yours truly has problem. But she doesn’t know it yet. She is so innocent at this point in her life.

One could argue that this is because yours truly has had her poor ego chewed for four years and spit out like it was nothing.

And that the only thing she was left with is a sorry, fearful, artificially inflated ego.

———

He is an actor, or so he said on his profile, and, like, I don’t know, a philanthropist. He is also retired - and by that I think he wants to make it clear that he is so…