I'm a hot date. literally.

the other night, I had a date. I know, I know. these things don't happen often (so three cheers for me!). Just to guarantee my success, I wore my newest LBD. We sat down and ordered our meal of food. A shrimp dish had jumped out at me, but was described as spicy, so I was hesitant. I mean, I know the kinds of things spice can do to you. And I know the kinds of things spice can do to me. Because I like to leave the messing it up from the get go to the boy, I asked the server just how spicy it was. She assured me it had just a little kick to it. Sign me up, I said. If there's one thing I like, it's a tiny kick (because bigger ain't always better. we all know it's all about how you work it). Little did I know my sweat glands were about to come A-L-I-V-E. it was like the restaurant scene in Along Came Polly. I wish I weren't exaggerating. At one point, my date asked me if he could get me a towel. I said no. He asked me was I sure. I was definitely sure I was glad I hadn't invested in any of the sweat detecting deo that is out now. My perfume may not have been helping anything, but sweat detecting deo would have only hurt things. I am confident of that much. I may or may not have been dripping sweat. I may or may not have sucked down approximately 78 glasses of water and not even touched my wine until I had recovered (just what someone in recovery needs! a glass of wine!). I may or may not have been using my napkin to pat my face over and over again to the point where my napkin should have probably entered a wet t-shirt contest. But we all know I'm not going to wuss out when it comes to being a man, so I finished my dish and raced to the bathroom to "freshen up." I quickly realized I had forgotten my chappy. So, I reapplied my bright pink lippy, dried my body off, wiped the mascara that had sweated off from under my eyes, and returned to the table. I may or may not have smelled (and looked) like I had just gotten out of a hot yoga class (side note: when you google sweaty makeup face pictures, hot yoga poses come up. I knew it), but at least my face was in place with the brightest lippy you have ever seen. when I got home (without my date...I wouldn't have gone home with me either) and took off my dress, I discovered I had black fabric literally glued to my body. I had sweated my dress onto myself. Now, I'm not sure I even knew this was possible. But my friends, take it from me. I am living proof that even the most absurd things like sweating your dress onto yourself are possible.