The vagina dialogues

both agreed that talking about ex’s was a bad idea...yet the topic kept resurfacing. In talking about dates he had been on, he mentioned going out with someone who disclosed that she had “pelvic cancer or something girly like that.” I explained that both women and men have pelvises, and perhaps, more specifically, it was cervical cancer. “That’s what it was,” he exclaimed...followed by, “wait, what’s the cervix?” I was about to start explaining (this is my profession, after all), when I realized where I was: on a first date at a bar! Not quite the circumstances for a lesson on female anatomy. Regardless, he was adamant about learning more. And so, I found myself shouting about the vagina and cervix, so as to be heard over rowdy dart competitions and conversations on the qualities of

Hefeweizen

. Oh goodness!I arrived early to the dinner spot he picked and found that, not only was there a “closed” sign on the door, but there weren’t any tables or chairs in the restaurant. It was abandoned! I called my date and we decided that I’d follow him to another location. When he arrived, he came at me with open arms, while I simultaneously jutted out my arm for a simple handshake. Catching on to each others’ cues, we quickly changed roles. It was like a competitive game of rock-papers-scissors. Awkward!

While waiting, I had noticed a sign saying that the restaurant, Shun, had moved to 45th. We began our mini-caravan to find the relocated place, and since this was his neighborhood and he had a GPS, I figured we’d be set. After he went through several very yellow lights (leaving me waiting at the intersection), I noticed we were at 57th—getting close. The next sign I saw, however was 60th. We were going the wrong way! We turned around, and the restaurant ended up being 1 block away from where we had started!

After a nice dinner, we decided on drinks at another location. Again, I followed. We passed lots of little bars and restaurants…but then we turned onto some residential streets. I began thinking, “Uh…when I agreed to drinks, I wasn’t agreeing to go to your house!” When we got to a "Dead End" sign, he called me. Lost again! And we were heading to a bar that he frequents often!

When finally settled at the bar, Die Bierstube, we both agreed that talking about ex’s was a bad idea...yet the topic kept resurfacing. In talking about dates he had been on, he mentioned going out with someone who disclosed that she had “pelvic cancer or something girly like that.” I explained that both women and men have pelvises, and perhaps, more specifically, it was cervical cancer. “That’s what it was,” he exclaimed...followed by, “wait, what’s the cervix?” I was about to start explaining (this is my profession, after all), when I realized where I was: on a first date at a bar! Not quite the circumstances for a lesson on female anatomy. Regardless, he was adamant about learning more. And so, I found myself shouting about the vagina and cervix, so as to be heard over rowdy dart competitions and conversations on the qualities of Hefeweizen. Oh goodness!

Despite all this (or perhaps because of it), the date was fun. I think we’ll go out again.