A Trip to the Jersey Frog Pond (Part II)

So, Jersey Frog got a second chance. Despite the minor annoyances of the first date, he seemed like a nice guy, if a bit shy and withdrawn. I was convinced that if I could just pull him out of his shell, he might be my dream guy- the love of my life, the ice cream to my apple pie...

I suppose I should take a moment to mention that I don't really have a "dating" mindset. I tend to think of men as either total losers, great friends or future husbands; there's no real middle ground in my twisted brain.

There's nothing wrong with that, right? Men aren't totally freaked out by that, right?

Crap.

Anyway, my brilliant plan was to bring along two friends of mine to make it a double date. The male half of this particular couple worked in the same field as Jersey Frog, a field about which I know nothing and care even less, as it deals with numbers, which may be the scariest objects on the planet, and I hoped that the presence of other people would take some pressure off so that his sparkling personality could shine through.

Which is exactly what happened...in an alternate reality in which this is a blog about my awesome dating life.

What actually happened is that Jersey Frog became even more closed off than before. He chewed on yet another cheeseburger and gave one word answers and assorted grunts to any question posed to him while awkwardly trying to cozy up to me. When I didn't return his displays of affection, he pouted and, according to my friends, made pathetic puppy dog faces.

As a matter of fact, the only time his answers became more elaborate was when he was discussing his family, which he did almost exclusively. Now, don't get me wrong- I love my family. They're big and loud and they drive me crazy, and I couldn't imagine life without them. But as much as I adore them, I don't talk about them

All the time and to the exclusion of nearly everything else.

Especially not in elaborate detail requiring the use of family trees in order to avoid the stifling of yawns and such fascinating statements as "Wait, whose brother is Uncle Larry? And he's the diabetic? Oh, that's right...he's a dietitian..."

It was at this point that he also revealed that he still lives with his parents.

Now, before I get shouts of outrage from all of you in the North East, I am fully willing to admit that living in the Tri-State area is stupidly expensive, and that it is completely rational to stay at home for a little while in order to save money. But I draw the line at living with your parents not only throughout college, but during the first five years after graduation, when you have a job that pays perfectly adequately, with no solid plan to move out.

But hindsight is 20/20, and I was willing to overlook yet another annoying and suspicious trait in the hopes that it would turn out to be a cute (yet still suspicious) trait. Keep in mind the amount of desperation at play here.

So, you guessed it...Jersey Frog gets another chance...

But just as in baseball (another topic about which I know nearly nothing...), there's only three strikes before you're out...