General Patton

Shortly before Thanksgiving, I met a Patent Attorney. I have dated this kind of attorney before.  They are extremely bright (book smart), but so cerebral that it almost gets in the way of normal conversations.  Anyway, in trying to get over the first "General Patton" (get it?) I decided to give this one a try. We met at The New Yorker, which I had not been to for years.  I felt very special and sexy.   He was so quiet though, that I felt obligated to keep the conversation going.  He would stare at me inquisitively and I could see his wheels spinning, desperately trying to figure me out.  Half-way during the conversation I decided I was most likely not his "type."  When I get to this point, I usually change the whole scenario and my attitude and behavior and just start saying whatever pops into my mind or out of my mouth.  He walks me out of the restaurant and across the street to my work. I pause at the side door and look at his beautiful, dark curls that he had slicked back and still looked wet.  I then asked him if anyone has ever told him he looks like Mickey Rourke.  His eyes widen which then caused me to blurt out:  "Not the ugly, post-face lift Mickey Rourke, the hot 9 1/2 weeks Mickey Rourke."  He cracked a smile and told me no in a very serious tone.  He then gave me the softest, most sensual kiss I had had in a long time.  I'm not sure if I will be hearing from Patton II.  I know I overwhelmed him.  I know I can be a handful and I know its going to take a very, very special person to both appreciate and keep up with me.  Regardless, it was nice to finally have an old fashion "date," and gave me a reason to smile the rest of the day.