Season 1, Episode 1: The Last First Date

It was April of 2022, and I'd been on what I thought was the last first date I could tolerate.

She seemed like a nice girl. She was the membership director of a country club that I'd been thinking about joining.

Not that I could afford to join that club, mind you. My little business, which was a consulting shop that found ways to improve things like accounts receivable, IT, staffing and the like, had taken an absolute beating thanks to COVID and I couldn't afford to take on any heavy costs.

This club's dues were heavy costs.

I did figure that if I managed it right, the club membership could pay for itself with the networking I'd be able to do.

Anyway, Maddie - we'll call her Maddie - was very cute and extremely bubbly, and she was pushing pretty hard that my joining the club would be the best investment I could make.

And I didn't really catch on that Maddie was interested in more than just selling me a membership. I said I'd think about it and get back to her.

That was on a Tuesday. By Thursday, I got a call from the wife of an old business associate out of the blue who asked me if I was still single.

"That I am," I said. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I have someone I really would like to put you together with. She's very sweet, well-educated and lots of fun. I think you'd like her."

"Oh, no," I said. "The dreaded blind date."

"I know, but I really think you'd like her. She already knows who you are and she's interested."

"Sounds kinda promising," I said. "Who is this girl?"

And she told me. I realized it wasn't that blind a date after all.

My old associate's wife offered to make it a little less painful. She suggested I pick Maddie up, and then we'd double date, with them picking up the tab at a great restaurant in town, and after dinner if Maddie and I wanted to continue, that would be up to us.

Not a bad plan, I thought. So I agreed, and we were set for Saturday.

And I went to pick her up at a house which looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Maddie had to kick a pile of trash and dirty clothes out of the way in order to open her front door, and she told me to have a seat on the couch and she'd be ready in a few minutes.

"What's that smell?" I asked.

"Oh, I know. Sorry! I've been so busy that I haven't had a chance to clean."

I nodded sympathetically, trying not to gag at the stench inside the house.

And within 60 seconds, something unusual happened.

Specifically, this...

"Ummmm," I said, loudly, "I'm not sure what's happening right now but there's a chicken in my lap."

Maddie appeared, shuffling into a pair of expensive-looking high-heeled mules.

"Oh, right," she said. "I forgot to tell you! That's George."

"You have a... pet chicken?"

"I sure do! He's great! George, get down!"

And she reached over to shoo George away. He wasn't particularly happy to vacate the area of my crotch, but he did.

And I managed to get Maddie into the car with no further animal assaults on my person or property, and we made it to the restaurant.

I noticed during the drive that Maddie was great. Until she started talking. Then she was weird. She was very enthusiastic about something called goat yoga and invited me to join her. Then she asked me what I did for a living, which I'd already told her five days before. I asked her how she'd become the membership director at the club, and she said she'd dated the previous membership director, and the club manager hired her when her boyfriend had been fired.

"That's an interesting story," I said with a chuckle. "How'd that go?"

"It's not important."

Dinner was sort of painful, but not unbearably so.

Then our double-date partners paid the bill and left, and we walked to the bar next door.

And Maddie got weirder. She asked me about politics.

Hey, I'm a small business guy. That means I'm a Republican. But I do everything I can not to be political, and especially on a first date.

"Look," I said, "I'm a big believer in the old prohibition against talking about politics or religion, particularly with people I'm just getting to know."

"Oh, come on. You can't do that. Besides, you can tell a lot about somebody by knowing their politics."

"You're a Democrat, aren't you?" I said.

"I mean, I might not be one but Republicans hate women too much for me."

"Yikes," I said.

"You're pro-life, aren't you?"

"OK, I'm definitely not gonna talk about abortion on a first date. Like, not even if you torture me."

That earned me a five-minute lecture which was absolutely bizarre regardless of your views on the issue.

She was still trying to get me to talk about how it's just a clump of cells when I was walking her to her door and telling her to give my best to George.

And the next morning at 8:30 my phone rang. It was Maddie. Calling on a Sunday morning to apologize for how our date had gone wrong. But to ask me to seriously consider what she'd said.

"You know, there's a whole universe of souls out there," she said, "and they'll return when it's time. They aren't harmed by..."

"Hey, Maddie?"

"Yes, Oscar?"

"I don't want to be rude, but, ummm, don't call here again."

She dropped an F-bomb on me and hung up.

So much for sweet Maddie. I was happily rid of her. And I sent a text to my old associate's wife telling her that "we didn't quite hit it off."

"Sorry to hear that!" came the response.

And I spent the bulk of that day just surfing the internet. Somehow I ended up at an article about how sex dolls had advanced far beyond the old plastic blowup things somebody would bring to a wild party as a joke. These were made of silicone and they had...capabilities.

Before I knew it, I'd bought one from some company in China with the money I was going to spend on that country club membership. Craziest thing I'd ever done.

It turns out it was also a life-changing move for the better.

So I guess Maddie, and George, should get credit. Had it not been for that utterly ridiculous experience that April night in 2022, the saga that follows on these pages wouldn't have happened.