“You have the most amazing skin,” he said, stroking the nape of my neck from behind the passenger’s seat. 

My best friend had taken “The Experiment” a bit too far.  She invited a third out with us – in hopes of a love connection – some guy she had a fling with over a decade ago.  She sprung it on me at the last moment.  Her reasons that I would like him – he’s funny and he has a big nose.  I did not.

Her first draft of internet choices were pretty bad as well. 

#1:  Cute in one photo wearing a hat, not so cute in the other.  VERY environmentally aware.  Used the word “organic” three times in his profile. Looking for someone 15 miles from his home, which is 60 miles from mine.

#2:  Some divorced dude with two kids who loves water sports, is a bit swarthy and not attractive.

#3: A physician who rides motorcycles/dirt bikes during his free time and isn’t into food or wine, with a very republican hairstyle.

#4: A squeaky-clean graphic artist who loves animals, volunteers in a shelter and doesn’t have much else to say.

Ugh!  She has agreed, after my protests this morning, to wipe the slate clean and start again next week.

It’s difficult to stay positive about this experience.  Perhaps a better option would be to slip a new set of batteries in the vibrator, forget about men altogether and channel my dating frustrations into cooking something delish in the kitchen.