This is not where the date occurred, but it IS a picture of a golf course.
Part 1 (bleeding to Part 2).
Pertinent stats: Midwestern man-child who moved to California to establish his golf career. I am prepared to be impressed out on the course (yeah, I play golf). Also works at Petco part-time. Golf + genuine concern for the wellbeing of animals= Mmm yeah boy let’s do this thang. Nine holes might not be enough YAKNOWWHATTAMEAN.
Beardliness: 
It’s scruffy and inconsistent, but it makes him look like Seth Rogen…which apparently I am very into. Especially in Zack and Miri Make a Porno where they have awesome friend sex; I’m into that too.
Date itinerary: 9 holes of golf at Mission Trails Golf Course after a long work day. Maybe more, maybe less depending on how Shooter McGavin-y he gets out there.
First impression: Wearing a hat and glasses, good firm non-chelada handshake. I mean he’s cute for sure. Not lyin’ about any of his equipment and seems generally comfortable with himself. Fuckable…seems shy, but clearly there are things going on in the noggin. Oh also, we are wearing matching red and black golf outfits. TIGER RED SHIRT SUNDAY LEGGO.
Recap and highlights
From the jump he asks if I want to play scramble format. I could golf nerd out right now, but basically, that’s some fucking weak shit. Honestly probably a smart move overall. Kept my mouth a lot cleaner than it would have been on a first date (which I’ve noticed some bros are not into)…pushhhhh, you want everything dirty except the mouth… lady in the street freak in the bed shit well FUCK NO I’m competitive and I’ma get mad and yell at my golf ball and be an asshole if I want.
Things are good, I am pushing conversation along, he is driving the cart (of course), but I realize we are using quite a few of my shots. Wait a sec. I thought the whole Petco animals thing was a hobby and golf was the job; now I’m starting to see it’s the other way around. GOD DAMMIT TINDER…what, what next… he lives on his friend’s couch and doesn’t eat vegetables? (he describes his diet as “breakfast foods”; cereals, donuts, french toast)…NOOOOOOO! Golf is over and “we win” or whatever. I do believe you can learn quite a bit from playing a round of golf with someone, but not really when you scrammin’ with them. You gotta watch someone implode, gotta see how well their self worth and decency holds up in the face of lip outs and shanks. If you have the pillow of scramble format, the whole experiment is shot. Great, we can “work together” wooooh high-five bud! I need beer and food.
Price tag: I’m starting to consolidate, this shit is hard to write about. We go to Hooleys because my phone is letting me down and I have to use my normal human sense of direction and experience to find food and drink. Blah blah blah we talk and he’s actually still mad cute, seems way decent as a person loves his grandma (that fam shit cuts to my core), and has solid friends of his own (this is very VERY important to me). I eat because I am a woman, and he does not because he is a man child. I drink beer because I am a woman, and he drinks a lot of whiskey because he’s on a first date and telling me about how he’s “gifted”…LIKE FIRST GRADE GIFTED… a lot of heavy shit has happened since first grade and he gets me thinking about basing all my successes in life off who I was in first grade. At the pub he tries to pay and his plastic gets declined. Ouchie. I pick up the tab (about $25) because apparently that’s just how I do on dates now. To be fair, he did pay for golf.
Grade: B
Bottom line: Tells me he wants to kiss me at the end of the night, but he’s “trying to be a gentleman”. While this is adorable and actually gets me pretty blushy, he has earned the name TAMPON GUY. This guy ain’t nuttin’ but dirty dirty.
Please read on for the origins of the name. Sorry to be such a bloody (menstruation puns!) tease in this first post.
Kissing Bearded Men 