Confessions of a Compulsive Internet Dater

My first thought, and I swear to you I am not making this up, was she looked like a hooker. A hundred-year-old- hooker. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I was where I agreed to meet her. I walked towards her thinking, what do I do next. My next shock was almost too much to comprehend. The dress was cut low in the front. Way too low. She was not wearing a bra. Her breasts were, how can I best describe them, well they were long. Yes I said long. Somewhat flat but definitely long. I do not generally carry a ruler when I go on a date – why would I – but when I got home I actually held a one up to my chest and tried to estimate what I had seen. They had to be six inches long. Do they make bras in a 36L? They hung there for all the world to see. Or at least me and a now shocked twenty-something year old hostess who opened the front door for us. I was brought up to be a gentleman. Not to embarrass or humiliate. So I smiled and led her inside. Maybe I walked a tad too quickly. “A table by the far wall please.” Maybe on the other side of the wall. THIS BOOK WILL FALL ON MANY THIRTY GROUNDS, Elke, Berlin I INTEND TO RECOMMEND IT TO ALL MY GIRFRINDS, Judi, L.A. THIS STORY NEEDS TO BE TOLD – TO GUYS AND GIRLS, Sly, Miami DON’T PICK UP THE PHONE WITHOUT READING IT FIRST, ROBERT, NYC