First off, my name is Jere, pronounced “Jerry.” Maybe I’m just a four-letter word, but can I at least be the correct four letters?
As a newly divorced, middle-aged woman, I’m back on the dating scene, and it’s not easy.
I went on a blind date. He was very heavy, and I have no problems with that (as long as his boobs aren’t bigger than mine), but he actually had a face that looked like a pig. I thought to myself, I wonder if he speaks Pig Latin? I decided he doesn’t belong with me — he belongs on a platter with an apple in his mouth.
A strange-looking guy asked me out, and I had to say, “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t think we would be compatible.” He said, “You’ll be sorry. Men like me don’t grow on trees!” I said, “No, but you do swing from them. Get away from me, CHEETAH.”
I went out with a cop. He said, “I’d like to hold you — without bail.”
Then I met Roy and agreed to go out with him. He said he’d take me anywhere I wanted to eat, as long as they accepted food stamps. On our date, we had dinner at Vons. He asked what I wanted to eat. I said a peanut butter sandwich. He said the peanut butter would use up too many of his food stamps, so I settled for prepackaged cheese and crackers. We used the drinking fountain because he said the water was too expensive. Goodbye, Roy.
My sisters set me up with a guy named Todd. They said, “He’s a lot of fun to be with.” RED FLAG! I asked them, “If he’s so much fun to be with, why aren’t you with him? Why are you trying to pawn him off on me?” They both laughed.
After the date, they asked how it went. I said we didn’t do anything. They questioned me, barely able to hold back the laughter. “Did you even kiss him?” I said, “Hell no — he stinks.”
If he can’t take a bath, I know he can’t brush his teeth, and I’m not kissing him. He also kept his wallet on a chain around his neck.
I went out with a used car salesman. He was okay. After two dates, I felt comfortable around him and said I’m thinking of getting a boob job.
He laughed and said, “A boob job? On a woman your age? That would be like fixing the headlights on a car that’s been totaled.”
They will never find his body.
Jere Evans is a local comedian and comedy writer. She lives in Encinitas and is a proud member of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Follow her on YouTube at @jereevanscomedy.
