Please enjoy an (unedited) excerpt from my forthcoming novel, The Romance Report. Our main character has returned from her first date with a man from the dating site, True Hearts. Let’s peek in and see how it went.
CHAPTER SEVEN
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A blog dedicated to the pursuit of love and happiness.
The Romance Report
Saturday, September 14, 1:05 a.m.
Here goes nothing. Since I recounted my European travel in my previous blog, Tales of a French-fried Foodie, I decided to create this new blog, The Romance Report, to share my dating trials and tribulations.
Dating is not for the weak of heart. If I’d been a two-pack a day smoker in my fifties on her first blind date since her divorce I’d be on the next boat to Alaska where the temperatures hover below thirty degrees the majority of the year. Clothes are your friend, dear reader! Please don’t take them off in public and gyrate with others! I imagine the confused looks on your faces and promise to explain my love of parkas, long johns and lots and lots of layers.
Due to my dear, dear friend’s (or frenemy after tonight!) machinations, I went on my first date courtesy of the dating site, True Hearts. My date, who I will call Saul to protect his identity, passed the vetting process with flying colors. He’s a successful realtor, loves animals and has no criminal background. A date with Saul, sight unseen, seemed perfectly harmless. Who knew that by the end of the night I would end up chained to a dungeon wall.
Thanks to a certain writer who shall remain unnamed, bondage has become quite the craze among the bored housewives and thirty-something singles here in the city of Richmond. Unbeknownst to me, my date’s choice of club, Dark Dreams, caters to those who want a taste of the lifestyle without taking the full plunge. Imagine my surprise when my friend and I walked into Dark Dreams and our eyes were assaulted by various and a sundry clubbers in leather chaps, bustiers which failed to boost and creepy men in leather masks which will give me nightmares for the next fifty years. To my further dismay, Saul, recognized me from my profile picture and snagged me before I could turn tail and run. I assume he was as handsome in real life as he was in his photograph, but who could tell under the leather eye mask he’d chosen as the accessory to his black leather vest and skin-tight jeans with a pair of handcuffs dangling from his belt. Gulp!
Saul tried to be charming. He really did. He bought me a Bloody Mary (a portent of things to come? Maybe.) He chatted with my friend and me about the real estate market, his dog, Peeadore, and his most recent vacation to Florida. Try as he might, I failed to succumb to his charms and laugh at his witty banter. Why? Behind him was a lovely couple who were slightly chunky and liked to display their bodies like a pork chop in a butcher shop. To top it off, Mr. Pork Chop kept snapping his small whip on his beloved Mrs. Pork Loin’s derriere to which she would giggle and bray, “Oh, Marty, you bad, bad boy. I live to serve you.”
Feeling slightly nauseous from the sweaty, half-naked bodies packed like sausages into the club, I excused myself to the ladies’ room. As I fought my way past whips and chains, I made the mistake of catching some Marquis de Sade wannabe’s eye. He grabbed my arm, slapped it in a wrist iron hanging from the wall and commanded me to beg. He wanted submission, but he got a swift kick in the groin and me screaming bloody murder instead. Fearing a lawsuit, management rescued me and offered me a free drink. I graciously declined their offer, grabbed my friend and slid my buttery butt all the way home (which is a story for another post.) Needless to say, dear readers, my quest for a life partner will no longer take place online. I’m off to wash the butter and the memories of Dark Dreams off of me. For now, sweet dreams and goodnight.
COMMENTS:
Britney11: I LOVE Dark Dreams. You should give it another chance. It allows you to be you without fear.
QuinnieBee: I can be me without being naked and afraid in a club with whips and chains.
Dreambuilder: I want to know why you had butter all over you. Do tell.
QuinnieBee: One should always keep their house fully stocked with lotion when trying to wear tight leather pants. Enough said.
Dreambuilder: LOL. 🙂
