Men: They're what's for dinner

I was the guest of honor at a rather bizarre dinner last night...the menu was filet mignon, corn on the cob, potato salad, sliced tomatoes and fresh mozzarella, lemonade to drink, fruit tart with almond for dessert, and boys on the side. A friend of mine, we'll call her V, who is familiar with my tale of woe in the romance department offered to invite not just one but two single men over to dinner for me to inspect. It is important to note that the men were unawares of the true purpose of the dinner; for them, it was merely Sunday night bbq with friends. (God, I love V.) I walked in to find that V's niece, who is staying with them for the summer and interning in the area and is just 19, had a ta-ta revealing shirt on. Did she not get the memo that the only ta-tas to be revealed that evening were mine? Hers still stay up without help. That's not playing fair.

But I digress. Boobies aside, it was, well, a little weird. I didn't necessarily feel a lot of pressure to get all dolled up; I felt more pressure to really try and like one of the men because V had gone to all this trouble. I mean, filet mignon. And 2 men. Certainly I would like at least one of them.

Alas, I did not. Well, sort of not. One man, P, wasn't the friendliest. He was mean to the other man, X, and was snarky with me when I mentioned that Gabriel Byrne was in that crap-ass stateside version of La Femme Nikita. "Just because Gabriel Byrne was in it doesn't make it a bad movie." Um, that's not what I said, asshole.

Okay, that was perhaps a tad harsh response. But he was snarky and mean and, oh, well, V said she thought I would like X more. And X was very sweet and he sails and does judo. But he wears big scary thick serial-killer eyeglasses and he felt a few hairs too geeky for me. (I should mention that V and her hubby are geeks of a stellar nature. Part of the dinner conversation went like this "I hung a door this weekend. It was a door to the server room I installed in my basement." "Well, I don't have a server room in my house, but I do have a router.") Still I told V I liked one more than the other. I don't know. Maybe I should see him again. He did seem (if you can forget the glasses) like a really decent guy. Am I the sort of person who needs to feel an insta-spark? I don't know. I'm still working on that.