Is this my audition?

Do I Get a Yellow Ticket? As much as it pains me to compare my dating life to an ‘American Idol’ type process… I can’t think of anything more accurate at the moment. When you think about it, dating is one big loop of judge or be judged. I’ve always been the type to put all my ovaries in one basket, but many people (particularly ones with a penis attached) date multiple people simultaneously to ‘feel it out’. I’m keenly aware of this, but until recently had never had a penis-haver make a point of telling me. I never make assumptions as to what (or who) someone may be doing outside of his time with me, mostly because I don’t want to know. Sure, that conversation eventually comes up… but in the beginning I like to just let things happen. No expectations… no stress.

In this scenario, I had a date that I thought went extremely well. If I had to be completely honest, I’d say it made me a little giggly. I couldn’t wait until round two. We seemed to share a similar sense of humor; he was ridiculously attractive, had a good job and was a seemingly awesome single dad. Jackpot! Before the buzz had time to wear off, he sent me a text asking me, “would you be offended if I had a date tonight.” WHAAAAT? How the hell do I answer that? “Why yes… I would hate that, actually”? Is that an appropriate response? I’m not in love with the guy, but I’m kind of in love with me. Why doesn’t he see how freaking awesome I am? Oh dear god… what if I’m awful and I have no idea! Wow. That would suck. I’m exactly like that girl on American Idol who thinks she nailed a stirring rendition of that dreadful Celine Dion song from Titanic, when she actually sounded like a stray cat being heinously murdered all nine times for good measure. She tries to blame it on a sore throat or nerves, when in reality a whole bunch of ears should be filing felony rape charges the minute she opens her mouth. She thinks she’s awesome. In fact, she’s damn sure of it.

At this point, what are my options? Sit back and hope the other broad bombs on her audition? Keep my fingers crossed that I’m the Wild Card pick? Sweet Jesus, what if there’s a group round and I’m forced to perform that Temptations song the California Raisins sang so awesomely… with her. I don’t even want to know what message will be heard through THAT grapevine. It’s the most horrible feeling ever. My imagination borders on illegal. In fact, I’ve almost been arrested twice for some of my vivid thoughts. It was virtually impossible to focus my attention on watching an entire season of ‘Breaking Bad’ on Netflix while sipping boxed wine, knowing that they were probably having the best date ever. He probably jetted her to Paris while I sat on my couch in sweats compiling a top ten list of reasons I suck. Is he planning to send me pictures of this dream date? Maybe some home-made porn? Ugh… Someone please kill me!

I’m a huge advocate of honesty and I think it’s a pretty amazing quality to possess, so I respect this guy a ton because of it. The thing is… there’s a difference between volunteering this information and being truthful. I don’t want a man to lie to me… IF I ASK. If I don’t ask, there’s a pretty good likelihood that I have zero desire to know. In my head, I’d prefer to be that girl who just had a fantastic date instead of a random chick wearing a contestant number safety pinned to her shirt. I realize that I’m being overly sensitive and I’m most likely still pretty awesome, but I guess that’s up to the judge. Besides, I’m fairly confident my karaoke version of ‘Fergalicious’ would send me straight through to Hollywood week.


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About the Broad

A humorous look at dating in your mid-thirties and the other hilarious things that happen around us on a daily basis.

March 2012
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