Thursday, September 17, 2009


by Jani Ogglin (NWM Staff Writer)

Recently I went on bad date number 34. This one was actually a fix up, not Match. My coworker swore up and down that this guy and me were like star-crossed lovers. Soulmates. I hadn’t TIVOd anything of importance so I thought, "what the hell." We met at a restaurant somewhere in the middle (rhymes with Smapplebees). I got there late, and he was already at the bar enjoying some micro-fall-brew on tap. He turned all the way around to greet me and WHOA, the man looked like he was hiding an Ewok in his shirt. He had 3 buttons undone! THREE! And right on his thick nest of chest hair sat a gold chain. Really? Committed to the chain are we? Look, when it comes to looks, I am totally NOT the shallow type. As long as the guy is funny and sweet-ish, I can overlook some of his more quirky features. I even understand the abnormal hair growth. My Russian ancestors blessed me with hairy arms. I feel his pain. I just don’t understand why he’d want to call attention to it. Maybe if it was ‘72, and we were in the porn industry it’d be different. My personal preference for chest hair is similar to how I feel women should properly display cleavage. Give a little peek – a hint of mystery if you will. Don’t go for broke, especially on the first date. Overexposure sends the wrong message. Period. As far as the unbuttoned look goes, he’d be totally fine if he added an undershirt – Not see through!

As to how the date went – my Sizzling Orange Chicken Bowl was cold, he droned on about his investment job, I lost a contact, and he asked if we could go Dutch. It’s safe to say I won’t see him on date 35. I also disowned my friend.

WARNING: Extremely painful to watch.

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