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Pardon Me For Sticking My Tongue Down Your Throat

One of my biggest pet peeves is an inappropriate act of intimacy on a first date. In my books – or blogs – groping, kissing and talking graphically about sex (or one’s virility) are top on the list of first date no-no’s and are only acceptable if the woman overtly leads things in that direction – in which case she is likely either drunk, a slut, or both.

I recently met a 53-year old divorced man from Del Mar who was willing to make the 2-hour drive up to Beverly Hills. Sadly, driving more than 20 minutes for a date is considered impressive by L.A. standards. Most men aren’t willing to drive across town. I have one friend who will only date women who reside within a half-hour driving zone from his home. Consider this: there are roughly 310 million people in the United States. If the odds of meeting your soul mate are one in a million, and you are looking only at members of the opposite sex, then you have roughly 155 chances of finding this person. The chances are slim to none that even one of those potential soul mates lives within a half-hour of you.  Any man who is not willing to drive across town, or drive up from Orange County or San Diego, is an inconsiderate ass and will wind up a pathetic, single aging Playboy dating women half his age, like Charlie Sheen and his Two and a Half Men character Charlie Harper.         

Mr. Del Mar was attractive: tall, intelligent, fit, and a stylish dresser, which earned him an A+ for accuracy of his online profile. But – there’s always a ‘but’ – he had a bit of a smooth-talking, snake-oil peddler quality to him, which reminded me of a used car salesman (albeit luxury pre-owned). Despite saying he was a foodie, he confessed to not liking wine and obviously didn’t know jack-shit about food given the generic chain restaurant he suggested as a meeting place.  You know the type with plastic menus, factory-processed breadsticks, generic wines by the glass listed only as Cabernet, Merlot and Chardonnay, and a TV visible from all angles so one can follow the Clippers losing streak while chowing down on fried calamari. Once upon a time, men sat with their backs to the wall as a protective stance incase any unsavory types entered the restaurant, now they do it for optimum vantage point of the TV. Any restaurant with televised entertainment is not appropriate for a first date, or any date for that matter. I vetoed his choice in favor of E. Baldi on Canon Drive where I also ordered, since he didn’t know how to read “menu Italian”. 

Before our wine arrived, my date put his hand on my thigh. Smooth. Too smooth.  I’m not a rent-a-date. Keep your mitts to yourself! thought I, repositioning my chair to be further away.  This SoCal Casanova was all for fast-tracking right past the unwritten third-date rule that runs rampant in this town. A rule that states that it’s uncool to make sexual advances before the third date, but is widely misinterpreted as expect to get laid by the third date. Before we finished our crudo appetizer, he leaned over and French kissed me. I’m sorry. Did I miss something here? I don’t recall saying that he could touch me, let alone cram his tongue down my throat. Talk about inappropriate first-date conduct. Honestly, gentlemen, that behavior would be the equivalent of me taking a credit card out of my date’s wallet and buying a pair of Jimmy Choos between dinner and dessert. While there are plenty of women in this town who would think nothing of doing that on a first date, I’m sure Mr. Del Mar would not take kindly to that kind of behavior given he had already questioned why all women covet expensive designer shoes.  So we look great with our legs in the air, dumb ass! And since that’s for your benefit, you should buy the damn shoes - and the lingerie.  

I don’t care how attractive, successful, or fit a man is, he has no right to touch me, let alone swap spit with me, on a first date. How about reading my signals – which were nothing like Ooh, baby…grope me at the table and then bang me silly in the restaurant bathroom before dessert. I know all men are looking for a little tongue-down-throat, hand-down-pant action, but can they at least try to wait till after the entrée is cleared before helping themselves to dessert?

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Reader Comments (7)

It is quite impressive for him to tool his way up from Del Mar. You would imagine that someone with that much enthusiasm to meet you would have been able to sit back and enjoy the company and conversation.

As for 20 minutes in this town, sometimes it takes that long just to get to Wilshire. Did you at least enjoy the meal after the mouthwash or just high heel it out the door?

December 13, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterVin

It takes more than a bad taste in my mouth to ruin a good meal.

December 18, 2010 | Registered CommenterLennie Ross

Love the third paragraph. As for the rest, you're making the case for looking beyond LA for a promising date. Whoever has said, "I think I'll move to LA to find the perfect a decent date or mate?"

Moral of the story: Sit much further away from a first date at a restaurant; Is that seat two restaurants over too far?

December 18, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKing Krak, I Drink the Wine

I'm looking nationally... internationally, even. Needle in the proverbial haystack. Yes, agreed on sitting farther away... like the next state.

December 18, 2010 | Registered CommenterLennie Ross

"Sadly, driving more than 20 minutes for a date is considered impressive by L.A. standards. Most men aren’t willing to drive across town"

What is your take on why this is?
Do women have lower standards, hence being impressed by driving across LA? Have men become lazy in LA? Maybe a little of both? It could even be the result of living in a big city. I grew up in NYC and know people/family who after 20-30 years have not left the friendly confines of the city (even to date)?

Interesting stuff your writing...

January 9, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterRonWied

My take on why men won't drive 20 minutes? Because Angelinos are very me-centric and with the way traffic can be in the city, and the long hours people work, the last thing they feel like doing at the end of the day is driving across town. I personally think it's the wrong attitude to have. I'm not saying women are impressed by men driving 20 minutes across town... NOT AT ALL.... I merely meant that it's rare a guy is even willing to do that. That's how pathetic LA men are. They would like the woman to come to them, crawl into their bed, and leave promptly after they are done. I certainly don't think any of this is acceptable behavior. I think a man should go to the moon and back for the right woman. And the only way he's going to find out if it's the right woman is if he makes a little effort. No efffort = no woman.

January 11, 2011 | Registered CommenterLennie Ross

"Any restaurant with televised entertainment is not appropriate for a first date, or any date for that matter."

Since I see so many couples in these places they must either be married (and need the diversion); into watching sports together in public; can't afford cable anymore; unaware of the aforementioned rule or both guilty of breaking it.

Regardless, thanks for setting the record straight about public flat-screen viewing.

January 12, 2011 | Unregistered Commentererkcyclisme

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