The 40-year-old Virgin

For those who are not familiar with the Inland Empire in CA I can sum it up as a place to stop for gas and buy stale candy bars on your way to Vegas. It often smells like cattle and rubber tires, and has nothing substantial to offer but farmland and chain restaurants. And so begins the story of how I met my very own 40-year-old virgin.
My friend Jen worked in pharmaceutical sales, and wanted to set me up with a doctor. That is how I came to meet Jimmy. Or maybe his name was Pete. He had a very apple pie American name but was second generation Indian with a thick accent.
Our first date was at The Cheesecake Factory. He told stories, but was one of those who looked all over the place instead of at you while he was talking. I figured that this was probably going to be a first and last date. In retrospect, that would have been bliss.
He asked me to walk around the courtyard after dinner, and he ended up holding my hand. The gesture itself was very sweet, but it was awkward considering I had just met him 45 minutes earlier.
He called for a second date, a Sunday Funday date. I met him at PF Changs where he was waiting with a bouquet of roses. After a few wine flights, I was in a great mood. He, however, was in the mood to ask weird probing questions like 'if there was a crystal ball on the table, what would your future say?'
"Um...that I would like another wine flight? Let's try South Africa this time!"
After another relatively awkward date, we decided to play pool. As we pulled up to Dave & Buster's, he suggested that we drive to his apartment which, in his words, was "not to far."
Not too far my ass. It was like a road trip, but without the fun banter or Slim Jims. I had to call him once to stop at a gas station so that I could pee.
When we got to his apartment building (Really? And you're a doctor?), we parked and walked up to his second floor digs. I walked in and I sh*t you not, from the wiiiiiiinnnnnndddddddddooooowwwwwwsssssss to the waaaaallllllllssssssssss this guy had action figures everywhere.
"Ohmigod! You're the 40 year-old-virgin," I blurted.
"No! No, I'm not!" He exclaimed. "I'm not a virgin. But these are worth a lot more in their original packaging."
That was basically the end of the date, and I'm not trying to be rude, but you know that you would have left then too.