Lady Chatterley’s Top Ten Worst First Dates

1. The “gentleman” who twitched the entire time and probably was pinching snuff.

2. The one who arrived to tea at noon reeking of alcohol.

3. The country gentleman who arrived fifteen minutes late smelling of onion breath. (Because Lady Chatterley felt bad for him, she went on a second date in which he arrived an hour late because he had no carriage and was unable to instant telegram because he had no portable personal contraption).

4. The amateur writer who brought his writing even though she requested him not to, subjected her to reading it, and therein exposed himself to her infamous red pen.

5. The poet who brought his love poetry to their first courtship. Ahem, he also was the gentleman who twitched.

6. The man who admitted he cheated on his first wife because EVERYONE cheats, he claimed. (Alright, so Lady Chatterley of the novel isn’t exactly a stranger in that arena. Still, this was real life.)

7. The gentleman who admitted within the first ten minutes of conversation that his mother lost her job as a state nurse for seducing an inmate.

8. The man she couldn’t tell whether she had anything in common with because she did not speak Japanese. . . .He didn’t speak English.

9. The man who didn’t show up. And never returned her instant telegrams or post, or offered any explanation why he didn’t show up.

10. The knave who brought his friend along uninvited.

11. The geezer who lied about his age. He’d said he was in his forties when he was in reality fifty. Being a lawyer, he insisted he was within the realm of fact, as he’d made the claim when he was forty-nine—several weeks before.  (Yes, she should have spotted the silver roots against the black dyed hair but the dim candlelight of the ball where she’d met him had camouflaged wrinkles and gray hair until she met him again for tea.)

12. The man who lied and said he was divorced, but was only separated—and had been for a month.

13. The one who insisted on escorting Lady Chatterley to her carriage and tried to kiss her even though she’d warned him earlier she would not kiss a man on the first date.

Obviously, she had more than ten dreadful dates to speak of. Please feel free to leave your stories here.

Racy Thought of the Day

Technology is ever so versatile. Take the alarm function on the portable instant telegram a.k.a. what some modernists call a "cellular phone." The best way to use this alarm function is to set it on vibrate and place it within one's undergarments for safe keeping. When the alarm goes off, one will wake in the most pleasant way. Think if the other times during the day one needs a wake up call. One can ask her lover to call her at a specific time, say at 3 pm during that staff meeting . . . about three dozen times.

Shall I Compare Thee to a Golden Retriever?

Shall I Compare Thee to a Golden Retriever?

Lady Chatterley thinks not. I once suffered the indignation of being compared to a professor's pet in likeness, in attempt to remember my name.

"Oh, how lustrous and golden your hair is, just like my pet who shares your namesake," said he. "Whenever I see your face, I will think of my dog and will remember your name forever."

Joy. I wonder if he associated the smell of hot, dog breathe and drool with my aspect as well, not to mention piddles on Persian carpets.

One would think such a name as Lady Chatterley would be burned into his brain. One also would think, this gentleman should have learned early on in life the rudeness of comparing a lady to a dog. But truly, that is not the worst of socially inept remarks made by unassuming men.

A man who sat next to me at the theatre once commented when I rose from my chair, "My, I had no idea how short you are! How tall are you?" Possibly upon seeing the shocked indignation on my visage, he amended his statement in an attempt at a half-hearted apology. "You probably tire of hearing such a question. You must be asked that all the time."

"Not at all," I said, my wit coming in a speed that surprised even I. "I am rarely asked such personal questions . . . except by children. And very rude adults."

Dearest reader, never have I so enjoyed humiliating another. Rude, yes, I was. But it was ever so satisfying to speak one's mind as freely as one might in, well, a romance novel. Surely I am not alone. There must be others on this interweb who have relished in a miracle of wit that came from the muse of indignation. If so, I invite you to share your experiences here.

Racy Thought of the Day

A noble lady can converse in the virtual chat parlor at her Personal Contraption (PC) in her undergarments--or less if she desires--without anyone else on the interweb having knowledge of her attire, or lack of. Unless, of course, she has forgotten to turn off her chatcamera. Ahem. Oh my!