In honor of Valentine’s Day, here is my favorite dating story.
He worked in the medical profession, in mental health to be specific. We had been having a perfectly nice dinner when the subject of smoking in public places came up. He mentioned how in the state of Michigan psychiatric facilities allow smoking.
“It’s one of the things that keeps the residents calm, so they let them smoke inside,” he explained.
“They let them smoke in the common areas?” I was surprised.
“Yes.”
“Really! Well, that’s not how it is in California. In California even in the psychiatric facilities, if you want to smoke, you have to go OUTside.”
“You’ve been?” he asked.
“Yup.”
Then it hit me: had I really just displayed knowledge of the inner workings of psychiatric hospitals?? There was no backing out of it now, but I just couldn’t bring myself to explain my breezy comment. So-o-o I just kept talking about something else and he was nice enough not to ask anything. Later I remembered this moment and la-a-aughed. I’ve been on a million dates, but never had I ever — that’s just sloppy dating!