dailysexscoop.com

The exciting news is that I went out on two dates this weekend. The unexciting news is that my Match.com guy, JelloSalad, lived up to his name. It was like when you are really hungry for a rich decadent chocolate dessert and someone serves you up, well, jello salad.

“Oh my God!” Grace shrieked into the phone. “You’re a fag hag.”

“I am not!” I said. “He is bisexual—not gay.”

I feel like I just stepped into Sex and the City. Ok, so maybe I don’t live in a city. And maybe I don’t have the great clothes and the hair and the apartment. Or the shoes. But, get this, I did have sex on a first date.

I never knew it could feel so good to be so bad.

Grace was right. Jerry called the very next day. Luckily, I picked up the phone instead of one of my kids. (Okay, it wasn't that lucky, I spent the day hovering over the phone like a desperate teenager waiting for an invitation to the prom).

We decided to meet up at Chiquita's again. I was excited ... and nervous. Very, very nervous. My first date since ... hell, my first date ever. I don't know if you could call the groping Billy and I did in the back of his car in high school exactly "dating."