A DEAL WITH A CROSSROADS DEMON

Okay, so the actual post is really, MY IDEAL DATE. But let’s face it folks, it seems as if that’s what I’d have to do to have an ideal date. Hell, any date. Because dating when you’re over thirty (okay, okay, possibly forty. Screw off, this is my post) is hard. Why, you ask? And no, I don’t care if you didn’t. Here’s the thing…meeting people is hard. All those old standbys? Gone. And why is it your friends never seem to know any ‘single’ people. Like, not one?  As in none? Not a single, freaking guy who might may your lady parts go all aquiver. Naturally, one turns to Internet dating… only, you get this.

Expectations…

Reality…

And in the end, this is me…

What was this post about again?

Right, my ideal date. Wow, kind of got a bit off track. Okay… IDEAL MOTHER-FUCKING DATE. I GOT THIS.

Now, this may be shocking to some, but my ideal date doesn’t involve dinner in a fancy restaurant or dressing up. Hell, it doesn’t even involve civilization. In fact, quite the opposite.

Note… let’s assume this is the perfect date with a guy I’m crazy about. You know, as if I HAD a guy:)

The day would start with a drive to somewhere remote. This would probably require the aid of four-wheel drive and good navigation skills. When the poor excuse for a dirt road becomes impassable, we’d ditch the Jeep and head out on foot. Armed with backpacks and cameras, we’d spend the better part of the day hiking up ( as in lots of elevation gain )  to a remote cabin up in the mountains.

And yes, cabin. This is my IDEAL date. In this scenario, I get a reprieve from a tent.

We’d of course, stop along the way—take pictures of the view. Eat dried fruit and granola. Selfies to prove we were still alive which we’d text to a member of the family, though the kids would probably be having some kind of keg party, so they wouldn’t really care, nor would they even hear their phones chime.

The entire hike would be filled with easy conversation, non-awkward silences (again, IDEAL), and we’d get brief chances to hold hands, kiss. I’d admire his map-reading skills and he’d admire my ass. Oops, sorry, Freudian slip there. He’d admire my enthusiasm. Right. Enthusiasm. We’d reach the cabin before sunset, but take the time to watch the sky bleed into yellows and reds from a comfortable swing on the porch. (Yes, this cabin could exist. Don’t crush my dreams, folks.)

We’d start a fire in the wood stove and he’d cook me dinner. Okay, he’d probably just heat something up from a freezer bag. Or we’d eat chocolate and sandwiches. I’m actually not picky. Hell, if things went well, we could skip dinner…wink wink.

There’d be candles and crickets and wolves howling in the background. Slow dancing and this…

lots of this…

And, well, sleeping. Some. Sleeping. Okay, not much, but… sigh.

Of course, the next day would be awesome because we’d hike back, get to share a shower… yeah, this.

Wondering what the other ladies consider their ideal date? Go check them out…

Bronwyn Green  |  Gwendolyn Cease  |  Jessica De La Rosa  |  Paige Prince

 

3 thoughts on “A DEAL WITH A CROSSROADS DEMON

  1. Pingback: Wednesday Blogging » Paige Prince

  2. Bronwyn Green

    I *knew* your ideal date would involve hiking to a remote locale. I just knew it! 😀

    Death-defying mountain climbing aside, that really does sound like a great date. 😀

    Reply
  3. Gwen Cease

    Your imaginary . . . ummmm ideal date sounds just like mine . . . except for the remote locale, hiking, mountain climbing and stuff. LOL! Okay, the only thing in common is the hot, understanding man and the amazing . . dancing. Yep, dancing.

    Reply

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