September 30, 2008


We were walking to dinner tonight and my friend is rounding up her week to me--she who has the history of the most mind-blowingly awful dates ever (my fave is where a coked up dude attempted to bid her adieu with a kiss, she turned away and he wound up LICKING the side of her face instead)--and she says "I went on the worst first date ever. All I need to tell you is this--because this really covers it. He picks me up, there's a baby seat in the back of the car, he's doused in CK and I think I'm going to puke it's so harsh. He told me I smelled great and I wondered how the fuck he could smell anything but himself, and then he says "I love cologne"--which was obvious. Next thing he does is put in a CD, and Steve Perry "Foolish Heart" starts playing, he throws his arm around me, starts driving, but is staring at me, and singing along "I need a love that grows.." It only got worse from there." One wonders if that is even possible.

God bless foolish hearts everywhere. Sing it, Steve.

Posted by jessica hopper at September 30, 2008 09:11 PM | TrackBack