Birth of a Blog Part 1

 I decided to bring you a 2 Part blog.  Sometimes I just can’t get a story out in one post.  Enjoy…


I decided to take a trip by myself to Maui. I was having an Eat, Pray, Love moment. I needed to get out of LA and just breathe.

Since I launched this blog in January I have been asked quite a few times, “What made you start this blog?!”  I ignore the times when people ask me this question with a look of horror and judgment.  I secretly give them the finger and stick my tongue out at them like a child.  But for the folks who genuinely are curious I tell them the story of my worse date ever…

In July of 2012 I decided to take a trip by myself to Maui.  I was having an Eat, Pray, Love moment.  I needed to get out of LA and just breathe.  My divorce had just become final in January of that year.  I felt like I never took the time to be by myself and just reflect on the last few years of my life.  As you know, I spend a majority of my time travelling for my job.  And one of the perks of all that travel is collecting hotel points and airline points.  I booked my flight from LAX to Hawaii which cost me a total of $2.50.  And then I booked my hotel, which cost me a total of $50.  I only told one person where I was going just in case something happened.  I left on a Thursday and tuned myself off to the outside world.  My phone was off, I didn’t watch TV, and I didn’t speak to any family or friends for a total of 5 days. My mornings were spent in heavy mediation and journaling, my days were spent lounging by the pool having cocktails, and my nights were spent taking myself out to dinners.  Needless to say, by the time I returned to the stratosphere, I felt renewed, rejuvenated, and healed.  It was closure to the difficult chapter of my life.  And I finally felt at peace and okay.

So I celebrated my renewal by meeting my girlfriends at Chaya Venice to tell them about the trip.  Chaya Venice has one of the best happy hours in LA. It is always packed.  While socializing with my girlfriends a gentleman walked in and asked if the seat next to me was taken.  I was in a good mood so I decided to be “witty.”  “It’s taken… but I will give you the privilege of sitting there.”   He laughed at my humor and asked me what I was drinking.  He knew the bartender well.  And then he did what all single men should always do when they offer to buy a woman a drink and her girlfriends are standing there, he offered to buy them a drink as well (please note, this only applies to groups of 3 or less…. I’m not expecting you to buy drinks for a party of 10).  “Jason” was a TV writer.  He was originally from New York.   “Jason” was NOT attractive at all.  As a matter of fact the angle of his seat made it difficult to really get a sense of his looks.  (Or maybe it was the fact I had a few too many cocktails since I had a designated driver that night).  So I leaned over to my girl friend and asked her, ”Is he cute?  I can’t tell.”  Her response was to discreetly take her knife and point it in the direction of her half eaten steak skewer that was smothered in A1 sauce and say, “He looks similar to this.”  My friends are just as ignorant as I am.  And this is why I love them!  We are all WIPs (works in progress).  But as I had a few more cocktails his not so stellar looks were over shadowed by his sense of style.  He had an east coast NYC vibe to him which exuded confidence.  We talked about the show he was working on, jazz, art.  It was a great convo.  At the end of the evening when he was about to leave, I didn’t notice we had spent the last 2 hours just talking.  I forgot my friends were even sitting there.  He asked me for my number before he left.  I was definitely not attracted to this guy physically.  Most women who are of child bearing years will look at a man’s features and picture what their future children will look like.  Usually when it comes to your future daughter you are even more selective about who you consider dating because if it turns into something and you marry the guy and have children, often times children get the features of the opposite sex parent.  When he asked for my number, I looked at his features, his oversized nose, his too close together eyes, his soup cooler lips and imagined what he would look like as a little girl.  My first thought was, “Hell no!  Don’t give him the time of day.  Run… Run… Think about your future children!”  But then, with my newly rejuvenated fresh from Maui self, thought, I would go out with him.  Not every relationship is meant for marriage.  And I certainly would not risk mixing my good gene pool with anybody!   I would never be serious with him.  He would just be a guy I would hang out with for fun.  If nothing else we could have a great friendship.   Like men, women have two categories of men they date as well… The good time guy and the guy you take seriously.  This man would certainly be the good time guy.  With that, I gave him my number and quite frankly I could have cared less if he called me or not.


While socializing with my girlfriends a gentleman walked in and asked if the seat next to me was taken. I was in a good mood so I decided to be “witty.” “It’s taken… but I will give you the privilege of sitting there.” He laughed at my humor and asked me what I was drinking.

As fate would have it, he not only called me, but he sent me a text that evening, “It was great meeting you.  I would love to finish our conversation over dinner.  Are you free on Saturday?  If so let’s meet at Luna Park at 8pm.” Even if I had planned on saying no, Luna Park was one of my favorite restaurants in LA.  It was a spot that only true foodies knew about.  They had great food, great drinks, and a hip east coast type atmosphere.  I was actually impressed that he even knew about this spot.

So Saturday evening came and I was heading over to Luna Park.  Of course I was running late (I really need to get better with that).  I sent him a text message letting him know I was running 10 minutes behind.  I had finally arrived at the valet at 8:10 on the dot.  As I was getting out of my car I got a text message from “Jason.”  I’m giving you another 5 minutes and then I’m bouncing.  I have a 15 minute rule.  Ummmm…. Huh?  I walked into the restaurant and saw him at a corner booth.  He was looking at his cell phone.  I could see his not so great features from the light his cell phone gave off.  My first reaction was to check him.  But again, I was still in my Renewal Maui mode.  When I got to the table he looked up from his phone.

Me:  Ummmm…. Didn’t you get my text that I was running 10 minutes behind?

Jason:  No I didn’t get it.  I thought I was being stood up.

Me:  One thing you need to know about me is I am a woman of my word.  If I say I’m going to be somewhere I’m going to be there.

Jason:  My bad.  You look beautiful.

Flattery will get you everywhere in my book.  The waiter came up to the table to get our orders and ironically he knew this waiter well too.

Me:  Are you a food critic?  You seem to know all the wait staff and bartenders wherever we go!

Jason:  I just make it a point to know the people at the places I love to go.

I could appreciate that.  They way a man treats the wait staff says a lot about who he is as a person.  If he’s an asshole to a waiter, please know and believe he will be an asshole to you one day.  From there the conversation ensued.  Come to find out “Jason” had a 22 year old son who he hadn’t spoken to in over 2 years.  When dating someone who has kids it is a very fine line in terms of the questions you should ask when you first start dating.  But I was curious how a man goes without speaking to his son for 2 years.  Seriously, you believe in treating wait staff with respect but you haven’t talked to your own damn son?  But I didn’t want to be quick to judge.

Me:  It must be hard to not speak to your son.

Jason:  That little n**## pissed me off.  He was staying with me and he didn’t know how to pick up after himself.  Once I came home and caught his ass smoking weed in my house!  When I told him that was unacceptable he went into this bullshit about how I wasn’t a father to him most of his life and I shouldn’t be telling him what to do.  He said a bunch of other bullshit and I shipped his ass back to his mother’s house.

I know there had to be a bigger story to this.  But I also knew I couldn’t cross the line.

Me:  Do you think perhaps that was a cry for help?

Jason:  Until he learns how to respect me I don’t have shit else to say to him.

I could tell he was getting very tense and his breathing was accelerated.  So I changed the subject and kept it on neutral topics.  And we got on the topic of art.

Jason:  I’m into art.  As a matter of fact I have an original Dali at my house. 

Me:  Bullshit!  There’s no way in hell you have an original Salvador Dali piece of art work at your house.

Jason:  No bullshit.  I’m a collector.  I invest my money in art.

I could appreciate he loved art and invested in it.  However, Dali has the most forgeries of any living artist. If it is an original with a low number you could have a piece worth a couple thousand dollars, if not than not much.  It’s not like he had the fucking Mona Lisa hanging up in his house.  I was intrigued.  The rest of the date was pretty chill.  I made it a point to keep off the topic of his son, although it was certainly a red flag.  But I could have cared less given the fact that I wasn’t trying to marry this guy.  We went out a few days later and he took me to TH Little Door.  And it was the same vibe.  He knew the bartender very well.  We had a bottle of Rose and dessert and it was cool.  I appreciated how this man knew how to court.  Then we got on the topic of upcoming birthday in a month.

Me:  What are doing for your birthday?

Jason:  I’m not sure yet.  I’ll probably take a trip somewhere.  Since this is a big one?

Me:  A big one?  Wait a minute… how old are you turning?

Jason:  I don’t like to disclose my age.

Me:  I thought you were 47. 

Jason:  No that’s what you guessed, I just didn’t correct you.

Me:  So if your next birthday is a big one, then you must be turning 45.

Jason:  No close… I’m turning 50.

Record screech to a halt!  50?!  If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you know I like and appreciate older men.  But 50?  That’s was too damn old.  50 is also known as 10 years away from needing to take a pill to keep it up.  And in 10 years, I will be in the middle of my sexual peek and have no intention of trying to entertain a wet noodle unless it’s in my pasta!  I’m just saying.  46 is my max.  That is 10 years older than me.  50?  Oh no!  That’s just not my speed.


And in 10 years, I will be in the middle of my sexual peek and have no intention of trying to entertain a wet noodle unless it’s in my pasta!

Me:  I had no idea you were 50.

Jason:  What can I say?  I work out.

Me:  Why didn’t you correct me then?

Jason:  Age is just a number.

Me:  So now we’re quoting Aaliyah? 

Jason:  We just had a cool vibe. 

We finished up our bottle of Rose.  But again, I wasn’t trying to have a relationship with this man.  I was enjoying hanging out with him and having great dinners.  He walked me out to valet.

Jason:  You’re awfully quiet.

Me:  I’m just in deep thought.

Jason:  Come on.  Don’t let a few years between us get in the way.  I’m enjoying my time with you.

Me:  I just don’t like that you weren’t honest when we first met.

Jason:  Mea culpa.  That’s on me.  Let me take you out on Saturday.  I’ll make it up to you.

I had two choices.  I could a) run for the hills.  I wasn’t physically attracted to this man and  the relationship wasn’t going anywhere or b) let him take me out to another great spot in LA.  At the rate I was going I could be a food critic.  I chose the latter.  And that’s when the craziness ensued….


Monique K.Bradley



I can be found on: Facebook | Twitter | Google+        

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