This is the longest stage. She will replay the date like a Zapruder film. Did he talk over her? Did he let the door slam? Did he mention his “live-in mother” as a positive attribute? She will parse every text message leading up to the date. You will learn more about Greg’s 401(k) and his gluten intolerance than you know about your own father.
Remind her that nostalgia is a liar. The past is a foreign country where people had bad hair and worse opinions. 3. The Over-Sharer Within 17 minutes, you know his therapist’s name, his son’s estrangement, and the exact date of his last colonoscopy. He treats your mother not as a potential romance, but as a free therapist with good bone structure. He will cry. He will apologize for crying. He will then cry about apologizing. mother%27s bad date
“I think I’m just going to give up. Get a cat.” You: “No. You’re going to take three days off, delete the app, and then next week, we will go through his profile line by line. I will be your bouncer.” This is the longest stage
“Mom, you are not a crisis hotline with a dinner menu.” 4. The Catfish Carl The photos were from 2012. The hairline has retreated like the French army. The listed height of 5’10” is actually 5’6” in decent lighting. He mentions that he is “actually separated, not divorced, but it’s complicated.” (It is never complicated. It is always a lie.) Did he let the door slam
Until then, you are her witness. Her historian. Her late-night comedy reviewer.