Arriving mere minutes before the show, I peeked around at the audience. Expecting to see mostly women, I was surprised at the male representation for Bad Dates. Were they dragged in by their wives or girlfriends? Do they not know the play is about the dating catastrophes of a single mom?
No one, aside from a few close friends, is remotely interested the dating life of a single mom. I know this, because I am one. So I was surprised to learn the play sold out and has been extended due to public demand. However, by the end of the play, it was easy to see why.
Single moms —the good ones —rarely and selectively date. We are just too busy, and, contrary to popular belief, we are not looking for a man to take care of us. Haley Walker, the only character (played by Julie Jirousek) in Bad Dates, is one of the good ones. After twelve years of datelessness and a Mildred Pierce panic attack, she is ready to jump in the pool.
Through endless chatting you learn the details of her life, including her ex-husband’s drug habits, her impulsive shoe purchases, her developing need to get laid, and how she became a restaurant idiot savant. Listening to Haley’s stream-of-consciousness monologues, you feel like you’re eavesdropping on an intimate best-friend conversation, or listening to a talking diary on auto-play.
By the time she tells the story of the Tibetan Buddhist thunderstorm party, Jirousek connects with you, the audience disappears, and you become the best friend in whom she confides. While sampling outfit and shoe combinations, Jirousek vigorously delivers Haley’s tales with unreserved amusement. Between accidental crotch shots and a dressing-room peep show —which might explain the male audience —Jirousek holds nothing back. She is infectiously charming.
At times, Haley seems a bit too valley girl. “Like totally” is not a phrase that should be used by a woman approaching 40, but I suppose when you are raising a pre-teen, you tend to pick up the mannerisms. Once you get over the valley demeanor, you fall in love with her.
With such insight into people and situations, you realize Haley’s not as stupid as you thought. She’s got the “end of the movie” guy figured out and the law professor, otherwise known as “wretched companion,” pegged for a homo. Plus, she knows how to dress sexy without looking like a slut. As she recounts how “end of the movie” guy expects sex after dinner and “wretched companion” is on a pretend date with a girl with sarcastic optimism, it’s as if there is nothing that can bring her down.
That is, until we are brought into Haley’s present situation, preparing for a night of scheduled sex. Yes, single moms occasionally need to schedule sex. We have to get a babysitter, if we’re going to have naughties at home. The last thing you want is for your child to overhear —or even worse, walk in on —a sexplosion. With her daughter out of the house, Haley dons her best lingerie (with matching $400 shoes, of course), lights a few candles, and gushes over Lewis, the man who broke the stream of dreadful dates.
