A Northern Girl in the Single South: Part 2

"Part 1" = the kiss of death. I've learned the hard way.

If you write this phrase in a title you are effectively making an unspoken contract. If there is a part 1, there must be a part 2. I've tried to deny this many times over the past week but it will not be argued away. Before I can move on to a fulfilling writing career I have to satisfy the demands of that silent tyrant.

Imagine if George Lucas had stopped with episodes 4, 5, 6!

Okay. Bad example.

Anyway, here goes...part 2 of "Yankee hits the dating scene"

AT A BAR:

"Do you like whiskey?"

"Yes, absolutely!" Found a winner.

"Two fireballs, please." Okay, maybe not.

"Alright, lady's choice."

"Scotch." 

"Holy...is it supposed to burn like that?" Yup. Definitely not a winner.

AT THE MOVIES:

"Why are you speeding? We have plenty of time."

"Just don't want to be late. I hate being late for movies."

"And that's why we are parking on the opposite side of the mall?"

"Yeah, there's never any parking on the side with the theater."

Just on the side with the Bass Outlet that you have to walk through to get to the theater.

I hate being late for movies. Except when I'm looking at fishing gear.

AT A BASKETBALL GAME:

"Sorry this was so last minute. I guess you didn't have time to change."

Well that was definitely the most delicate way to tell me I was wearing the wrong thing. Because who wears shorts and a tee shirt to a basketball game, right?

Still, while I may have missed the "country club casual" memo, I wasn't going to let it spoil my evening.

My date was going to do that, by proceeding to explain the game of basketball to me.

"He gets three points when he shoots from behind the arc."

I always wondered why they called it the three point line.

"When they call a travel, it's a turnover. The other team gets the ball."

So that's how turnovers work.

"So when he blew the whistle right there, that was an offensive foul."

I'll show you an offensive foul.

Poor guy. I was the worst girl to take to a professional basketball game: I knew too much about sports and not enough about JCrew and wedges.

DOGS:

(in my neighborhood there are no yuppies...we have dildos. Double income, large dog owners)

"I have a pretty strained relationship with my ex, but I don't see her very often. Only when I drop off and pick up the dog."

I had no words. Even my thoughts looked like this: klhfmn,s;awoprithalkjs;lhr???

"It's pretty tough on him. I think we may have to figure out a different arrangement. Do you like animals?"

So this is an animal we're talking about? I wasn't sure when he mentioned sharing custody.

"Uh, yeah...I like animals." This probably wasn't the time for the story about my pet fish that I may or may not have starved to death.

"Brinkly is almost three months and he's just started talking."

Did I miss something? Are we still talking about a dog? This has got to be a child, right?

"I love animals." 

Nope. Not a child.

"My dream is to make enough money so that I don't have to work and can volunteer for the SPCA."

I don't think our dreams are compatible...

"My only tattoo is of my childhood dog's name over my heart." He dropped his voice and winked at me across the table, "Maybe you'll get to see it later."

Definitely not compatible.   

"And this is why," my coworker patiently explained, "Southern girls were made for southern guys."

*This post brought to you in part by Garlic Parmesan Popcorn and Perrier (in the slim can - because I am the sucker that all marketing companies dream of). Note well: when adding salt do not use the pour option.