My Cynicism Takes A Night Off

I had a lovely, normal date on Friday with someone who shares my disdain for certain folksingers as well as my squeamishness about mayonnaise. We have other dislikes in common, but these are two standouts. Dinner was consumed in a mature setting and included a chocolate souffle and nice conversation. I successfully accessorized with cleavage and didn't spill on myself, accidentally break any glassware or say something idiotic.

Since she, who will be known here as Tall and Adorable, had picked the restaurant, I suggested we head to the local dyke bar afterwards. I figured we could continue our conversation in the backyard and possibly get some smooching started. When we got there we ran into a group of people we knew and joined a lively, raunchy conversation already in progress. As odd as it should have been to take part in a roundtable sex discussion during a first date, it seemed pretty natural and easy-going. Smooching, in a semi-private setting ensued, followed by more conversation with the sexy group, then more smooching. We parted at the cab stand.

There are tentative plans for next week. You will be notified.