30 First Dates by Stacey Wiedower Read Free Book Online Page B

been one to back down from a challenge. And for her, dating was nothing if not a challenge.
    Sherri snapped her computer shut, stood, and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. Then she yawned and started toward the door. Just before she reached it she turned to look at Erin.
    "We're going to Paris," she said, and squealed.
    Erin wasn't a squealer, but in this instance she shrieked like a bachelorette who'd just learned she'd made the final rose ceremony.
    They were going to Paris.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    The Countdown Begins
    April 12: fourteen months to thirty
     
    April 12: Date 1
    Name: Ben*
    Age:     28
    Job:    Geneticist
    List:    Improve my pop culture education (aka No. 7: Watch every Academy Award Best Picture winner)**
     
    This kind of feels like cheating, since I know Ben better than I know anybody else in the world. Even though this was technically a date, it felt more like a random Saturday night. There was no pressure and none of that getting-to-know-each-other small talk that usually happens on a first date. There was also no first-kiss anxiety, no "should I invite him in?" drama and no stress over what to wear. This man has seen me at my worst—in sweats, without makeup, first thing in the morning and totally hung over. He saw me in my first pair of glasses and my entire two years in braces, and he was a firsthand witness to the Giant Zit Incident of junior year. He's smelled my morning breath and held my hair back while I puked. Multiple times.
     
    My God, why does he even still talk to me???
     
    I digress. So, normally in these posts I'll describe my dates in detail, but this time there are no juicy details to report. Ben and I had dinner at a sushi place I'd been wanting to try on the Belt Line and then went back to my apartment and watched two movies (An American in Paris and All Quiet on the Western Front). So in this, my first official "date post," instead of telling you about my date I'm going to lay out a few ground rules for the blog:
     
    1.  No sex. That is, if it happens, I won't write about it—this isn't that kind of blog. But also …
    2.  The blog is about first dates only—and I'm not that kind of girl. However, if, in the process of completing this mission, I find a guy who warrants a second or third or fourth date (based on past experience and what I know about my luck, this isn't incredibly likely), I won't refuse to go down that path. But I won't blog about it (see No. 1).
    3.  Every guy I write about here will know he's being blogged about. I might not always tell him beforehand. I'm not sure whether that would help or hurt my date-getting ability. But before I write a post I'll give the guy fair warning.
    4.  On my dates I'll go Dutch treat. I'm not looking for a sugar daddy, so don't judge.
     
    * In future, names will be changed to protect the innocent—or guilty—but in this instance, Ben is his real name. He's also my friend, and he'll be guest-posting occasionally on this blog.
     
    ** Since the blog came about because of my Thirty by Thirty List, I'm going to complete an item from my list on every date.
     
    One down, twenty-nine to go! My next date is already set for next weekend, so I'll be back soon. Wish me luck ….
     
    Erin read over her words for the fifth or sixth time, clicked "submit post," and scooted her chair back from the kitchen table. Then she slumped down in it, her legs splayed out in front of her.
    "What's wrong?" asked Sherri, stepping around her to get to the refrigerator. She opened it and pulled out a blue and white carton of organic skim milk. She carried it to the counter beside the pantry and opened the door, coming out with a box of Cocoa Puffs that totally negated the milk's health benefits.
    Erin pushed herself up in her chair and stood up to get her own bowl.
    "I don't know. Nothing," she said. Sherri glanced past her to the computer, where Erin's new post gleamed from the illuminated screen. "It's just, I don't know. Is this