OK, so here’s me. I went on a date this past
week and had a really great meal. I picked him
up, brought some chocolates and took him to
Sola at 3868 N. Lincoln Ave.
Our waitress was a hoot: she sensed that I
was a little nervous about a first date and she
put me at ease. We had a light white wine she
suggested and started our meal with a seasonal
soup special that was out of this world.
He ordered a vegetarian entrée that perhaps
sounded better on paper than it actually was
and I had the pork tenderloin wrapped in bacon.
I know. It was delicious. I wanted to lick my
plate, but I held back. I was on a date after all.
No dessert, but we shared a cigarette on the
way to the car and he gave me a peck on the
lips for a good night.
Here comes another rule. If someone goes to
the trouble of planning a date and taking you
out, you should call them within a day or two to
thank them. Unless you’re lips get ripped off in a
horrible accident, that is.
Tell me your date disasters at mhampton1970@
gmail.com