The House Always Wins

A bitter reenactment of my dating life through gambling terms.

A blind bet. All-in. The break-even point. The family pot. An unfortunate underlay. The burn card. The fold. The royal flush down the toilet. Game.

The house always wins.

Dating, like gambling, is all about timing and luck. And, unfortunately for me, I suck at pretty much everything in that last sentence. I have been on many a horrific date in my time (sometimes even including running through an art museum in extreme terror) just as I have also been desperately in love (complete with cliched romantic dancing in the rain dangerously combined with grandiose visions of the future). I have found myself playing the parts of both the wide-eyed ingenue and love-worn paramour sometimes confusingly in one relationship. I have felt agonizing regret over missed opportunities as well come to terms that I can be an utter bitch even without provocation (gasp).

Mostly, though, I have come to terms that this city seems to be a black hole of horrible, horrible dates.

So, as I embark on what will no doubt be another torturous adventure in love, what better way to save all the humiliation, clumsy overtures of adoration, and awkward conversations for prosperity than to snarkily blog about it all. This experiment will either force me to rediscover some of my lapsed optimism or hasten my progression into becoming a deranged cat lady. (Just add cat.)

So, cut the cards and deal. I'm ready to up the ante.

-Queen of Spades