For The Love Of All That Is Holy


The other day I was talking to a friend and we were discussing dating and guys and basically how they all suck, except for mine of course! We were laughing and I said something along the lines of “I bet there are two guys out there right now drinking a couple of beers, playing xbox, and saying the exact same thing about girls.”

We started naming off some of the worst pet peeves we had about guys that we had dated and the laughing ensued for the next 2 hours. I figured this was a perfect discussion topic for the blog because HELLO men, get it together some of us would rather not spend the next 10 years looking for Mr. Right.

  1. “I have commitment issues”

– You’ve graduated college, have a career, and are in your 30’s. Thanks for the heads up, but I’ve already come to this conclusion.

  1. “My ex this, my ex that, my ex, my ex, my ex…”

– Oh, I’m sorry, did I ask about your ex? No? Then why are still talking about her? If we don’t ask about her, don’t bring her up, unless you don’t ever want to see us again, and then please continue talking about your hosebeast of an ex.

  1. Shifty eyes

– I know this is the first time we’ve met and you may or may not have any interest in me, but have a little class and stop checking out every girl that walks into the bar. Don’t go on dates if you are incapable of giving someone ONE HOUR of your undivided attention.

Dating smart

  1. “I don’t do crazy”

– I think what you mean is “You haven’t found the crazy that you’re willing to deal with yet.” We’re all flipping out of our mind. Some of us are just closet psychos and quite frankly those are the ones you want to look out for. If at first she doesn’t seem crazy, run far far away.

  1. I normally don’t date girls like you…

– You know you didn’t have to ask me out, Right? In one statement you made everything awkward and ruined a whole night. Way to go you GIGANTIC ass jacket.

  1. Preparing for the exit

– “Do you prefer the disappearing act or would you rather have someone just tell you they aren’t interested?” This was seriously asked on one of my first dates. We continued to date for a little while longer and then guess what happened? He disappeared. If you’re going to ask that question at least follow through. I told you to tell me you’re not interested you gigantic DOUCHE nozzle.

  1. Don’t be pathetic.

– When I say “I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship” and I stop responding to your texts and phone calls, that means I’m not interested. Don’t keep texting me “Good Morning Beautiful” and “I can’t wait to see you again!”

  1. “I’ve got money in the bank.”

– Direct quote. From a guy. On a date. He then proceeded to flash money in my face. My first thought “I’d really like to Red Rover the crap out of you right now.”

For the sake of all that is holy, just date smart.

A really great woman (who shall go unnamed) once said: “I don’t know if it’s because you’re a man or because you’re stupid, but why would you do that?”

Seriously guys, why?!


My Friend: The Match Maker


I have this friend who so far has been notorious for setting me up on the worst “dates” known to mankind. I love her to death and I’d place my life in her hands, but she’s been so far off base with the set-up thing that it’s unfathomable. So far we’re quite a few set ups in and each story is better than the last. I’d love to share them all with you but for now let’s just focus on these two.

The Jean Jacketed Curly Headed Ginger

Somewhere around my third semester of college I started to realize that I had no idea what I was doing there besides drinking. It was at this moment that I decided to take a step back and move back home to be a ‘Stay at Home Daughter’ for a while. So, when things started to get tense between my roommates and me (a.k.a my mom and dad) I would take a weekend away and visit my ever so lovely “match making” friend.
One weekend while I was visiting she had introduced me to the guy she was seeing and he was a rather attractive fellow who was a Marine or a part of the SWAT team, I can’t remember his actual title but it was something that’s associated with pure raw sexiness. I remember thinking I bet he has some attractive friends she could set me up with, so I told her to get me the hook-up.

It was a Saturday night and her beau had wrangled himself a friend so we could all go out to dinner. From the moment the two showed up at my friend’s apartment I was already disappointed. He was the last thing I would have ever expected him to bring, but yet here he was and there I was. I’m almost a 100% positive he didn’t have curly hair nor was he a Ginger, but for some reason that’s exactly how I remember him. He also wasn’t wearing a jean jacket, but he told some story about a time when he was wearing a jean jacket and that always stuck in my mind. The description I have given on him is completely false, but for the life of me I can’t remember what he actually looked like.

I wasn’t too awfully upset though, because if truth be told he did have a pretty good personality. He was hilarious, but I find that most of the time when a guy is overly funny he’s making up for what he lacks in looks, or size — if ya know what I mean. Anyway, he pretty much stole the show that night in telling stories and cracking jokes. Like I said he turned out to be hilarious, but there was still something about him that I just couldn’t quite put my finger on, but whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

Dinner proceeded according to plan and we went back to my friend’s apartment to just hang out, relax, and watch some football. It was at this time that the Jean Jacketed Curly Headed Ginger apparently got some bad case of ADHD. I have no idea where it came from or why it started but it did and it was obnoxious. His gum chomping rivaled that of Bo Pelini. There was finger tapping and foot tapping, and it was all just too much. I could hardly sit there for a second longer.

We were sitting on a futon and the damn thing was shaking worse than Michael J. Fox during an earthquake (stop acting like I’m the first one to crack a Michael J. Fox joke. Get over yourself.) I could hear my brain wiggling around inside of my head and for a split second I almost lost my cool. I felt like I was riding The Beast and the whiplash was just as bad.

My friend was quietly laughing on the couch when she finally turned towards her date and said “I think your friend might be ready leave.” It was on this queue that they both got up and left.

This tragic set up had finally ended and she and I laughed about it for hours.

Chicago Bound with a Mute

One weekend a few years ago my friend asked me if wanted to go to Chicago for the weekend and see a Cubs game with her and her boyfriend. I’d never been to Chicago and never seen a Cubs game so it only made sense that I would take this opportunity and go, so I did.

I vividly remember her promising that she had told her boyfriend to bring a really fun and attractive friend, so you can imagine my confusion when we showed up and he was neither of those two things. He wasn’t much of a talker and he was skinnier than an angel hair pasta noodle.

Our journey towards Chicago had begun.

My friend, her boyfriend, and I were all talking and laughing. We were having a really good time when I noticed he was just sitting there, interjecting a laugh or two every once in a while, but for the most part he was dead silent. I could hear the crickets.

I honestly don’t have a whole lot to report back on this situation because there wasn’t a whole lot said. I spent a weekend with my best friend and her boyfriend and some guy who couldn’t mutter a single syllable.

The only picture I have to paint for you is this:

We’re at the Cubs game and it’s early spring so it’s still a little chilly outside. Thunder Clouds started to roll in and the storm that took place was less of thunderstorm and more of a monsoon. When the rain had finally let up, and it was more of a light downpour as opposed to a torrential downpour, the game finally started.

The four of us were in the bleachers, in our rain coats, sitting elementary style, girl/boy/girl/boy. I could hear my friend and her boyfriend just laughing and chatting up a storm having what seemed to be a grand old time and here I was stuck in the pouring down rain, cold, and sitting next to a mute. I was envious. Not to mention I was at a baseball game: America’s most boring pastime to spectate if liquor isn’t involved. I most definitely needed a shot or 6.

There were a couple of times I tried to talk to him but after asking the first question and receiving nothing more than a nod I thought “to hell with it, why even bother?” I was miserable. Not only was it raining and I was sitting next to Harpo Marx, but the game went into 5 extra innings. There was actually a point where I pulled my arms and head into my rain coat like a turtle and just sat there. Yes, it seems like a socially awkward thing to do, but there was really no way I could make this anymore socially awkward than he already had.

I sat in my little tent and started praying that the gracious God above would either take me away from the agony or give this man a voice box.

Needless to say I didn’t talk to either of these two guys ever again and I think the feeling of agony and misery was pretty mutual.

What’s This All About?


Many, many, many, years ago I started down the dating path. It always seemed so exciting; so beautiful and mysterious all at the same time. Opening the front door on a Saturday night and seeing the ever so handsome man of your dreams standing there holding a bouquet of a dozen of your favorite flowers. You smile uncontrollably thinking about all the possibilities this night could have in store for you. You’ve been swept off your feet and suddenly you’re planning your future with this man.

The night comes to an end and your heart starts racing as he walks his way around to your side of the car to open your door for you. He walks you up to your front door and he’s carrying on a light and playful conversation, but you can’t focus on the conversation because you’re too worried about whether you kiss him, hug him, handshake…your nerves are shot. You both exchange a “thank you for the lovely evening” and then he leans in and…

Wait? What? This isn’t the reality of dating?

Well of course it isn’t. Let me shed a little light on the reality of dating…

Your mom, grandma, sister, best friend, cousin, whomever it might be has set you up on this date with this “guy they know who is so great and SO perfect for you.” After weeks of them talking about it constantly you finally agree to go on what you know will inevitably be a terrible date, but the fact that you could end up alone with 13 cats is even more frightening so you see it through to the end. You don’t expect the guy to open your car door or even walk you to the door at the end of the night, but you hope for a little chivalry, like paying for the date would be nice or hell just trying to NOT GET IN MY PANTS in the parking lot of the restaurant. Yeah okay, it’d be cool if we were 16, but unfortunately we’re grown adults.

The night doesn’t begin with you being swept off your feet, it more or less begins with an “oh hell I need a drink, or five” and the night sure as hell doesn’t end with butterflies in your stomach, it ends with an angry phone call to the person who set you up on this tragedy.

So to answer your question of what’s this ‘Good Food Bad Company’ (GFBC) blog all about, well it’s about a single girls struggle to find love. A single girl who has started her professional career and moved to the city, a single girl who is trying to do the impossible: make a name for herself in this world and find love all at the same time.

Usually I wind up with a bottle, or two, of wine wondering how I got to where I did and laughing, so I’ve decided to share the horror of dating with the world.