No, I have still not gone on a date. Nor have I put up my real dating profile, as I've been directed to do repeatedly over the past week by my handlers.
But I did learn a valuable lesson this past weekend that will be sure to enable my success (or at least prevent an utterly humiliating failure) at my dating venture.
I MUST NOT DRINK ALCOHOL.
My BILs party was on Saturday. For some reason, despite my repeated insistence on being recognized as an extreme introvert and aspiring hermit, I always find myself responsible for the role of "social butterfly," my duties including flitting about merrily while instilling jovial bliss and comfortable sense of belonging in guests of all ages and backgrounds.
It was in the course of this role that I found myself conversing with a Very Important Political Entity and his wife. He being of the very proper Republican persuasion, it was natural and expected to find our small talk turn to the subject of water polo.
Having nothing pertinent to say about the subject, I glanced down into my 24-ounce beer mug full of sangria for guidance.
It gave me none.
So I instead turned to summonsing all my creative energies and focusing them on the one task at hand...
SAY SOMETHING INTELLIGENT.
In hindsight, what I have concluded is that anybody who thinks they can look to a cup of fruited wine as a source of intelligent inspiration is beyond the point of having anything remotely appropriate, let alone intelligent, to say.
But in the moment, unable to assess the situation clearly as a result of my impaired ability to reason (and my sangria's failure to guide me), I could think up nothing to say that did not involve the most classless image stuck in my head of men in Speedos riding horses in swimming pools.
Fortunately, I was rescued from my moment of indignity by some wine bottles that just had to be opened for the guests...
Which led me to a truly spectacular display of sophistication by discussing with another Very Important Person the screw-top bottle wine I had served at my wedding .
(In my defense, it was very good wine. But it was also sold by a tree huggy sort of winery were they found cork usage to be as outdated as high flow shower heads.)
In a further lesson about my inability to consume alcohol and speak coherently...
It is best to NOT engage in conversations about the ecological advantages of screw-top bottles of wine while standing next to a nearly empty gallon-size jug of sangria and drinking said sangria out of a super-sized cup, while showing facial expressions consistent with resisting a driving urge to declare, loudly and randomly, that "I have not had that much to drink, you know."
Recognizing this phrase as the battle cry of all drunk blondes as they step up onto the bar table for a dance, I did at least keep my mouth shut about that.
Despite my one act of sensibility, such interchanges can lead only to Very Important People shooting meaningful glances at that wine jug and asking, in a delicate voice, if they could get you something to eat.
In conclusion, I have decided it is definitely in the best interest of myself and water polo fans everywhere for me to institute a personal prohibition policy while on dates. Unless, of course, I decided to participate in a wet t-shirt competition ;)