John Wayne and a Moose walked into a bar . . . ,

Date #3

The saloon was filled with the music of the overlooking Bighorn Mountains: banjo, mandolin, fiddle, guitar, and the twangy bass of the old singing cowboy.

I had met my date several months earlier, and we chit chatted here and there. A young country guy, he wore work boots, worn jeans, and a mud-splattered hoodie.

October arrived, and I hadn’t seen him in a couple of months, so we decided to meet up for a drink.

Waiting for my date, I sat there enjoying the music–an obvious outsider from the Midwest in my leggings, RayBans, fluffy wool sweater, and glass of red wine.

Sipping my wine, I looked toward the door, and there stood John Wayne: black leather coat, woolen vest, silk scarf, white Stetson, and cowboy boots with spurs that jingled slightly with the solid thud of his heels on the hardwood floor. “Well that guy looks cool” I thought. I looked back at the musicians and didn’t notice him standing beside me until he said, “Howdy, Laura” as he tipped his hat.

So far so good. Dates 1, 2, & 3 were successes and am happy to say are now friends as well as dates 4,5,6,7,8, and 9.

Then came the final date. Date #10

We met up in Ann Arbor for dinner and a show. We walked around downtown beneath the Christmas lights and the softly falling snow. It was romantic.

I was actually really starting to like the guy. He was a very bright engineer, well traveled, well dressed, tall, fun and very handsome. He was very honest, straightforward, and bolder then most guys, and I liked it. For instance, he told me that he liked me, was interested in me, and would like to spend more time with me. Things a girl is certainly not opposed to hearing especially from a tall handsome guy, right?

His boldness was at first attractive, but then . . . , it never seemed to reach a peak. He got bolder and bolder, and I drew back further and further.

It reminded me of an evening last fall in the mountains.

I went for a walk up on the Mesa. The mountain grass was solid gold, and the peaks were dusted in a fresh white snow. I was overwhelmed by the beauty, and that golden hour of sunlight blinded me from my surroundings. I walked into the tree line, and 15 feet in front of me stood a bull moose.

We stared at each other.

My mind was whirl . . . , what to do? I backed up slowly but stayed near the trees. He walked toward me and grunted loudly. This continued for almost 3 minutes. It felt like 30.

Finally, he stopped following me, and I took the chance and dashed through the trees.

I got away.

Ok, so this dude wasn’t that extreme. He wasn’t dangerous, but there were definitely some parallels.

Both of us talked and decided that we have different sort of lives, values, and intentions and we parted on friendly terms.

Just like me and the moose. 🤓


Well y’all, I’ve emerged from the challenge unscathed. It was actually kinda fun! I met a bunch of great guys and am blessed with new friends.

Yes, I am still single and happy.

Here’s to 2018!


Tall, dark, and handsome.

Dating in 2017 is weird.

Men are confused by women . . . , women are confused by men.

What is right? What is wrong?

Let’s just say this feminist movement shook things up a bit.

With these glorious changes this tidal wave brought in, we now have to wade through waters of confusion: the changing of expectation and tradition.

For instance:

Men: you have always been expected to “BE A MAN,” initiate, ask the girl out, beg permission from her father, plan the date, pick us up, open every door, pay for everything, and lead us into our future!

Why was this the case?


Women: not that long ago, your paycheck was not legally your own but your husband’s. You had no right to a credit card/line unless your husband or father cosigned with you on the account. When did this change? With the Equal Opportunity Act of 1974. 1974 people! Just a couple years ago.

Now! A woman’s paycheck is legally her own, she can get a credit card/line with ease, she can travel or live on her own and be respectable. Women can be independent! And now that we can pay, should we pay?

Many of my strong, independent, highly intelligent female friends remain traditional in their views of dating, but expect equality in everything else.

Is this right? Is this wrong?

The worst part of not really knowing is the most awkward part of the date: when the bill comes . . . , Some men are insulted when I offer to pay, others expect me to pay, some just leave it and wait for me to bring it up,

And there’s date #2: A tall, dark, and handsome Mario Lopez type:

He’s from Chicago but I met him in Detroit: slightly taller than me, dark hair, dark eyes, and charming smile. Easy to talk to and kind, he was a gentleman with complete ease and grace from opening the doors to leaving his tab open for me! Not one hint of awkwardness. AMAZING.

He was in town for business and I was just passing through; we met at a coffee shop/brewery, chatted for almost 3 hours over a pint (Bells Two Hearted in case you were curious), swapped phone numbers, and parted ways. He came back to Detroit a couple weeks later and took me to my first NHL Red Wings game. It was fabulous! Such a fun guy and great date.

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Guys, I don’t know the answer to this one . . . , who should pay and who shouldn’t? Should we stick to tradition? What’s right and what’s wrong?