“Black Out Betty”

I have been on hundreds if not thousands of dates in my life.  Few and far between have been pleasant.  The majority have been about as fun as getting your balls waxed I’d imagine.

Shortly before college graduation my boyfriend of almost 4 yrs and I broke up.  I was on the verge of killing myself, but decided to take a different route on the path to getting over the ass hole who destroyed me.  That other path was dating like it was my job!  I would go on at least 8 dates a week.  On some days I’d have to double, even triple book.  I’d grab frozen yogurt in the early afternoon, happy hour in late afternoon, then a bite with another lucky lad, and potentially grab a drink late night with yet another fellow.  I had a smorgasbord of gentle men callers.  My Rolodex consisted of a guy or two in every frat on campus, a few doctors, some professional athletes like a pro golfer and an Oriels and a Mets pitcher, a night club owner, the DA, a businessmen or four, an investment banker and a millionaire from Boston.

This method of moving on worked for three reasons.

  • 1) I got to eat multiple times a day,
  • 2) I was constantly drunk and
  • 3) 1 and 2 were both free.

This was perfect because one of my favorite ways of handling a breakup is binge eating whilst being heavily intoxicated and since I was poor, having my two ultimate pass times paid for was a major plus.

The following tale is just some of my encounters post college break up.

Just days after Max and I broke up I noticed an ad on facebook.  The ad read “Single Ladies in search of hot rich men?” It was as if my computer had read my mind.  I was single and I was on the prowl for a sexy Daddy Warbucks.
I clicked on the link, which took me to meetingmillionaires.com.  I made myself a profile lying that I was an art teacher (I was still in college and jobless, but wanted to be taken seriously) and waited for “winks” from the male members of the site.

I was an instant sensation on the site and received winks and messages almost immediately.  Though these men were millionaires, I still had standards and apparently all the millionaires in my area had been beaten in their youth with an ugly stick.  They all caused damage to my corneas.  Then one day RMJ1977 sent me a wink.  He was by far the best looking man I had seen on the site.  He was a blonder version of Kevin Connoley- Irish, Catholic, and 5ft.  I agreed to go on a date with him.

Fearful that he might be a rapist and/or a murderer I met him at the bar at the nearest five star hotel for a drink for our 1st date.

He was better looking in person, but he was much shorter than I expected.  I’m 5ft and I towered over him.  We each had one cocktail and chatted for about 2 hours.  Though he only said about 5 words the entire evening, I agreed to go out with him two nights later.  I assumed he was just shy and nervous causing him to be mute.

Concluding from our first date he wasn’t a criminal, I allowed him to pick me up at my place, but since I wasn’t sure if I liked him I made him pick me up at my apartments’ valet because I didn’t want him coming upstairs to my loft.  He picked me up in a brand new M6 BMW.  Me likey.  And we went to one of the best steak places in the city.  He was still mute.

Now I am a chatter box, but there are only so many stories appropriate for a 2nd date and by the time we ordered appetizers I had nothing left to talk about.  So I decided the only way out of this night alive was to start making up stories, but this meant I had to get heavily lubed up.  Already on my 3rd dirty martini before we even ordered dinner (I had a bottle of champagne before he picked me up as well), I decided the olive juice was just slowing down the process and switched to vodka on the rocks, light on the rocks.  Apparently this did the trick because I blacked out before we got our food and somehow managed to get him to ask me out on a third date.  Seeing as I was so poor and in need of being fed, I agreed.

When date number three arrived, knowing how I felt about this guy and knowing it wasn’t a positive feeling, I again made him pick me up at my valet. But this time I was much more prepared.  I had polished off a bottle of chardonnay and two vodka sodas before he picked me up.  We went to an over priced and trendy sushi restaurant for dinner, where I was 100% black out before me were even sat at our table.  Apparently sometime over the course of our dinner I had been cut off by either my date or the waiter and I started to come to during dessert. The next thing I know my date says to me “You know, you don’t have to get so drunk to be fun.” I then informed him I was getting this drunk so that he was fun.
Kisses and Dating Wishes,