Mr. Experienced

Sometimes when a couple is on a date, for some odd reason the guy feels a tremendous need to show what an experienced dater he is. Maybe, he is intimidated or feels insecure or something. Maybe he does not know how to discuss anything other than how experienced he is in dating.




Basically, this is how it works. You are sitting with this guy in the shade sipping coffee, and the guy feels lonely. Understandably, sitting with only one girl can be extremely lonely, especially if that one girl is you. So he decides to bring in all the extra girls he ever dated that he rejected or that (hush hush) rejected him.



He clears his throat in a manner that makes him feel highly important. He puts his coffee glass on the table with his pinky jotting out ten feet to show you that he knows manners.

He pushes his glasses up his nose to prove that he really is an intellectual.



--You know, if I wanted to be married by now, I could have been married.

You are just silent, because you really did not ask him why he is not married, and you aren’t quite sure why he is supplying you with this fascinating information.

--And I just want you to know,--he continues,--that I have dated over twenty girls, but none of them were for me.



Okay, this is where you get confused. You give him a smile and a nod, because you really don’t feel like engaging in a conversation about every single relationship in your or his life that ended up being a disaster, because after all, that is what you go to therapy and to support groups for. It is definitely not what you go on a date for. This young man might have you confused. You quickly think through the routine. Ah, it is the way I did my hair.



He for sure confused me with his therapist.



He goes on to tell you about the girl that had drinking problems, the girl that was pretty but not smart enough, the girl whose skin was too dark, the girl who was too loud… And you are just sitting there picking the dead ends of your hair, waiting for the appropriate time to pass so that you can tell your guy that it was great meeting him, but you were just hit with this unexplainable headache, it must be a tumor, and therefore, you have to go home immediately.



However, you are still sitting there, sitting and listening to this garbage. Finally, you smile and in the sweetest and sleaziest voice that you have you say: “You know, I just do not think there is room here for all the girls you have dated. Why don’t we focus on each other?” (Forced smile, gritted teeth)

The young man is taken by your brilliance, adding you to his mental list as the brilliant girl who was too impatient so that he could discuss you with the next girl he dates.



He turns to you and says: “So, how many guys have you dated?”