If I had more time I would write you a shorter post.

Sorry, long one. I don't have the time today to edit this properly.

Last week I called ME while she was away on business and asked if she would like to get together over the weekend. She said she had a friend in town and it might be hard to meet up. I understood and told her to call me if she had time. I put the ball in her court to see what she would do. I suspected she would send me a lame text about how she couldn't get together and that would be the end of her.

Friday night I had plans to meet my sister and her friends out for happy hour. As I was walking to the bar ME called and invited me to a party that night. I was surprised to see her calling me, but pissed that for the second time in a row she asked me to an event hours before it started.

The party was a holiday party at the Newseum. Technically I could have gone to happy hour and made it to the party with plenty of time to spare, but I was pissed that she waited until 5pm to invite me. I suppose you could make a case that I was "playing games" by not going, and maybe on some level I was. The timing aggravated me so I said I couldn't make it. I told her I understood she had to entertain her visiting friends, but maybe next week we could do something.

Saturday night I had plans to go out with Bartender. While I was getting ready to leave I got a text from ME asking if I was free Sunday night and if I was interested in seeing a movie. I said sure and we left off that we would talk in the morning and make plans.

Normally I would have a beer or two before leaving the house, you know, pre-game a little so I don't have to spend a hundred dollars on drinks. However, I knew that going out with Bartender would turn into a drunken debacle, so I left the house at about 9:30pm sober as a judge.

Bartender didn't disappoint. I met her at a restaurant downtown and we took a seat at the bar. Within five minutes a waitress friend of hers came by to say hello, then said "Can I buy us a shot?", Bartender of course agreed so the waitress flagged down the bartender and held up three fingers. Apparently all people in the service industry drink Jameson. Without hesitation the bartender dropped three glasses in front of us and plunked the bottle of Jameson down on the bar, then walked off. We were left to serve ourselves, which I am told is highly illegal.

Fast forward a couple of hours. Bartender and I have moved on to H Street and were making a steady assault on the area's Jameson supply. The evening seemed almost sniper-like. We would sit down at a bar, have a comped shot or drink, drop a five or ten dollar bill on the bar then move on to another establishment. One shot one kill each. Twice we didn't even take our coats off, we just bellied up, banged back a smoky shot of Jameson and slipped away. Usually the bartender was give us a nod or a wave or some other gesture as if to say "You're money is no good here, that one's on the house".

Last call was at Little Miss Whiskey, but by then Bartender was pretty tipsy. We had one drink, danced for a bit, then bolted. We walked to Bartender's house and went up to her room. She spent a little extra time in the bathroom and suspect she may have gotten sick, but she smelled like toothpaste when she came out so I can't say for sure. It was about 2am and we both passed out. I woke up at 4am having sex and I don't know for sure who initiated it, but I'm pretty sure it was me. At 9:30 am I opened my eyes saw Bartender face down on the bed, a big tattoo on her left ass cheek staring back at me. It was about 98 degrees in the room and we were both buck naked, uncovered and sweating. My mouth was completely dry and tasted like a peaty Irish field right after a brush fire. Damn you Mr. Jameson. Bartender woke up as I was getting dressed and chuckled. I said I had to walk the dog, and she gave me a kiss as I left. When I got home and took a shower I saw a huge hickey on my chest, which was probably what Bartender was laughing at while I was getting dressed.

Last night I went and saw Black Swan with ME. After the movie we got a drink at a bite to eat and talked for a while. Going into the evening I had my doubts about ME and thought up a few questions that I hoped would bring them to the surface. After she had a glass of wine I asked her "So, if you came into some money tomorrow and could live comfortably without working the rest of your life, what would you do?" In short, ME said she would continue to work a few days a week because she likes her job and would use the rest of her time to travel. She also said she would socialize a lot and then used the term "lunch" as a verb, as in "I would lunch often with the girls". She was good until the lunch part. Question number two was a follow-up to a question she asked me earlier about the outdoors, I said "So, do you like the outdoors? Do you camp or hike?". ME said she likes the wilderness but doesn't camp because she is deathly afraid of spiders. That didn't sound promising. I decided to just come right out and ask it, I said "Do you consider yourself high maintenance?", which she denied. She said she's willing to try new things, outdoors or in, but that she's feminine and a little afraid of "creepy crawlers". I was leading up to my next question, which was "Do you consider yourself adventurous" when I mentioned that I like to sail, and asked if she enjoyed the ocean. That was a total softball, a lob, who doesn't like the fucking ocean! She put her face down in her soup and said "I can't swim". What? She can't fucking swim! I asked "Would you like to learn?" but she said she was afraid of the water.

How is it possible in this day and age that someone can't swim? It's literally unfathomable to me. Is she telling me that if I dropped her in a pool she would be unable to make it to the side without drowning? That can't be true. We're fucking buoyant. If you can't swim roll onto your back and float goddamnit. You don't have to be Michael Phelps in the water, but you are a failure as a human being if you can't swim. Your parents should hang their heads in shame for they have not provided you with a fundamental skill for your survival. It's like learning to cross the street, not running with scissors in your hand, and never stick a fork in an outlet (OK, so my parents failed on that last one).

Despite her beauty, despite her intelligence, I don't know if I can overlook this. She sounds unwilling to even try to learn.

I saw a show on TV last week called Millionaire Matchmaker. You can look up the show and see what it's about, but one of the things I took away from the episode was that everyone should have a list of 5 things that are non-negotiable in a mate. Five items that their ideal mate must or must not have/do. My list is as follows in no particular order:

-Financially independent (supports herself and lives within her means)
-Great sense of humor, is funny, laughs
-Energetic/active/physically fit (no couch potatoes)
-Smart
-Adventurous

Number six may be - Able to save herself in the event of water

This may be a little heavy for a third date, but I am going to ask ME if she would like to go to a pool some night and learn to swim.