Mr. Black American Express

I bet you thought this was about an African-American. Nope, that's a different story all together. It's about a guy who waved his "black" American Express card at me, while we were sitting at the bar having appetizers and wine, and bragged about how he could buy a new Mercedes with it if he wanted. Oh brother...I almost choked on my crab cake. BFD... Should I sleep with you now? Damn...I've hit pay-dirt! Or should I say dirt bag!

I have to admit, I was impressed initially, he had a wonderful bottle of Chardonnay waiting for me with two glasses when I arrived, ahhh...great wine is my weakness. I couldn't tell you what his name was if you paid me, I've conveniently erased it from my memory. He was a well-dressed business man. I think he was Italian, you know the type, tall dark and Guido...I mean handsome. His shirt had full starch and cuffs, accessorized with monogrammed cuff links. His slacks and shoes, definitely Italian, you could see his matching manyhose (knee highs) when he sat on the bar stool, and he was wearing a Sub Mariner Rolex. Okay, so I noticed, you can't blame a girl for being perceptive. Hey...now that I think of it...why wasn't his Rolex solid gold?..he's got the black A.E. card?

The conversation was mostly about him...shocker...huh?...and his Ex-wife Diane (that's funny why do I remember her name...oh yah...he said it about 10 times) who was manic depressive and didn't like sex. Oh...if I had a dollar for every time I've heard that story. Hey buddy...she probably liked sex, just not with you. I forgot to mention that he was still living with her, which he might have forgotten to mention before our date. But,they don't sleep together, OF COURSE...that goes without saying. Uh huh, I totally understand...go on...you were saying dirt bag. If he's so rich, why aren't they divorced, and why don't they live in separate houses? Okay...I've finished my crab cakes, seared Ahi, and whatever the hell else we ordered, and I'm ready to leave. Just in case you were wondering, I don't go out with men just to get meals. I can buy them myself, thank you very much. Believe me, when you have to listen to a windbag like this guy, it isn't exactly free. So...where was I? Oh yah, I'm done and ready to leave...I've got an episode of Law and Order I have to catch. So...I say, "Thank you very much for the wine and appetizers, it was nice to meet you" as I get up and grab my purse, and he says, "Not so fast...I'll walk you to your car". SHIT, I almost made a clean getaway. We walk out to my car, and just as I turn around to say good-bye he plants one on me. I have two choices here, I can pull away and make a scene, or I can just comply and go home quietly. My bad...I kiss him back. Not a bad kisser, I actually liked it...maybe I've misjudged him...blown things out of proportion. Then he whispers into my ear, "Want to get in your car and make-out"? Whoa...hold it right there. What are we, in junior high? I say, "no thanks, I'll pass, I really have to get home". Besides, it's now 7:00pm and I've wasted enough time...L and O is going to start any minute, and it's going to take me at least 5 minutes to get home.