Shirtless Hunk Refuses to Put 'Em on the Glass

Brace yourselves, readers. Shirtless man actually wore a shirt to our date. I don't know how it happened, but he somehow managed to put a shirt on before leaving his home, and judging by his all-shirtless calendar of Match.com photos, it may have been for the first time ever. SHIRT VIRGIN! This has to be because it was 20 degrees outside. It's the only explanation. He's a practical man, after all. If this had been a mid-August, or even, dare I say, mid-April date, he surely would have shown up bare, recently-waxed chest exposed without an ounce of shame. And really, I was wearing 4 dollar bangles from H&M and red hooker heels, so who am I to judge?

Anyway, we went to Auction House, he was pissed they didn't have Heineken, we talked about South American dictators, U2 (he's a superfan, and I refrained from making fun of THE MOTHAFUCKING EDGE. I'm a saint!), and his Polish ex-girlfriend he wanted to marry but who ran out on him and moved back to Poland to be an architect. He didn't know why she couldn't be an architect here. We're going out to dinner this week. The end.