OkCupid has a ‘Quickmatch’ feature, where you rate people on a scale of one to five stars. If you both rate each other high, OkCupid e-mails you both to let you know. Such was the case with Cat Guy and I.
Through a number of lengthy e-mails, I discovered that Cat Guy was 33, originally from Oakville, Ontario, athletic (training for a triathlon), worked as a consulting engineer in the construction industry, had two half-brothers…and two cats.
After a couple weeks of e-mails, one very long phone conversation, and a bunch of text messages (even one night while he was at UFC), Cat Guy and I decided to meet up on a Tuesday night after work for drinks. I let him know ahead of time that I’d eat dinner before our meeting, as I prefer to keep a first date simple (get in, get out; neither party needs to suffer if there isn’t any chemistry.)
As I headed down the street to catch a westbound streetcar, I noticed that they were extremely packed with people, and decided to start walking.
Redhead: You there yet? Streetcars are packed. Walking.
Cat Guy: I sure am. I’m nothing if not punctual (was that a dig?) How far away are you?
Redhead: 5-10. I walk fast.
Cat Guy: No doubt. Let me know when you’re close. I’ll be walking around getting some fresh air. It’s nice out!
I put my phone in my pocket and picked up my pace. Buzz! Text message.
Cat Guy: Ooo, the place across the street has pizza and a pint for $12 lol.
Redhead: Someone’s hungry.
Cat Guy: Haha, I went for a run instead of dinner. I’m not going to ruin your drinks plan though, don’t worry!
Redhead: You can eat.
Did I mention that I HATE walking and texting?
Buzz!
Cat Guy: No I’m good!
Cat Guy: You could be some super weirdo and I’d have to run away :P
Cat Guy: Lots of places for lease here. Is this a bad area?
Redhead: No, not that I’m aware of.
Buzz!
Cat Guy: Mmm, outdoor flowers! Smells nice :).
WTF? Why was he telling me this?
Redhead: I’ll be there in a minute. Dufferin is the next major.
Cat Guy: I’ll take your word for it lol.
Cat Guy: Hey, my google maps agrees with you!
Cat Guy: Aesthetics places, laundromats…
I reached the bar just then, and thankfully put an end to his texting nonsense. He gave me a big hug and asked where we should go.
“I thought we were going to The Fox?” I asked, confused.
“Sure! Yeah, we can do that!” he replied.
“Is there somewhere else you wanted to go?”
“Nonono, this is fine,” he said, and grinned at me. Weird.
We chose a seat beside the window, and the waitress brought us menus.
“Just drinks for me, thanks,” I said, and handed mine back. I noticed Cat Guy looked at the menu longingly as he did the same. “Jesus. Cat Guy, order some food.”
“No, it’s okay!” he replied.
“Seriously. If you’re hungry, just eat. I really don’t mind.”
“I shouldn’t spend the money anyways. Drinks are fine!”
Uh oh. After what I went through with my ex (story soon to come), mention of money (especially lack thereof) tends to freak me out a little. Okay, a lot.
Cat Guy and I each ordered a beer and chatted while we waited for the waitress to return. He talked about not knowing the city very well, which confused me, as he was originally from Oakville (which is just west of the city and part of the Greater Toronto Area, for those who aren’t from around here.)
I asked him about his experience at UFC, and realized why he had had the time to text me most of that night: he had gone to the event ALONE.
Our beers arrived and I made the mistake of mentioning his cats. His face softened and he said, “I don’t go out much because money is tight, and my babies are used to me being at home. After my run I was sooooo tired, but I had to get ready to meet up with you.” His voice went up a few octaves so he was speaking in a baby voice, and he quite literally pawed at me across the table while saying, “My baby was like, no daddy, don’t go!”
All I could think was, that. just. happened.
He told me what his cats looked like. About their habits, personalities, and what their favourite toys were. How he became their "daddy", and their entire medical history. On and on and ON about his cats. I'm a cat person, but this guy put me to shame!
As if things weren’t awkward enough, Cat Guy informed me that his mother was a huge slut (his words, not mine). She left him when he was just a baby, and his father and grandparents had raised him. He found out about one half-brother at the age of 15, and the other at 29. “So may times I’ve asked my dad, WHY did you sleep with her? You knew she was a giant whore!” Cat Guy said.
This was a lot of information to process on a first date.
“Sometimes I just get in the car and drive,” he said, changing the subject.
“Where to?” I asked.
“Last summer I drove up to Thunder Bay twice, for no reason. Every once in awhile I would get out and have a look around. Stretch my legs. Enjoy the quiet.”
Did this guy have any friends? UFC alone, long road trips alone…
This was the point in the night when a homeless man parked himself right outside the window beside us, singing and swaying. To be honest, I found this way more entertaining than my date.
“See this scar on my head?” Cat Guy said, pointing at a jagged white line across the back of his scalp, and I raised my eyebrows. “I got it in a fight!”
I couldn’t help myself and said, “Like UFC?”
He laughed. “No. I was on a camping trip and really early in the morning, some guys started playing their music REALLY loud. Well, I didn’t like that, so I went over there and told them so.”
“Uh oh,” I said, feigning interest.
“Yeah! Only THEY didn’t like that, so one of them smashed a beer bottle and came at me! That’s how I ended up with this scar. I was bleeding everywhere and had to go to the hospital and get stitches. When my girlfriend came home, I was asleep and there was blood all over the pillow and she freaked out,” he laughed.
This guy was the king of too much information, especially on a first date. “You lived together?” I asked.
“Yes, I was engaged once and I’ve lived with three girlfriends.”
Miracles do happen, I suppose?
The bill arrived and Cat Guy grabbed it and said, “Well, we can do this one of two ways.”
Ugh. I spared him the bullshit I knew was coming, said, “Forget it, this is for my share,” and handed him a twenty (later, Stef was frustrated that I didn’t allow him to continue, as she wanted to know what the two ways were.)
We gathered up our things and stepped outside the bar. “I know you don’t like to take rides on the first date, but it’s late and I would really like to drive you home,” he said.
Bottom line: I knew this dude wasn’t a psycho. A little weird? Yes, but completely harmless. He would make the perfect boyfriend for some geeky, cat-loving, UFC fan chick, but not for me. I accepted his offer of a ride home.
As we were walking to the car, he again mentioned that he didn’t go out much, in order to save money. My curiosity got the best of me, and I couldn’t help but say, “If you don’t mind me asking, why is money so tight, Cat Guy?”
“Well, I’m making payments on my car, so I’ll have more money when that’s done in about a year.”
I directed him to my building, thanked him for a nice night and just smiled when he said he’d like to do it again as I hopped out of the car.
As I was getting ready for bed, he texted me to let me know he found the street he was looking for, was going home to make some dinner, and that he’d had a fun night with me.
The next evening, my phone buzzed.
Cat Guy: Hey Redhead! How was your Thursday :) ?
I never replied and I never heard from him again. I love it when they get the hint immediately and just walk away. Makes my job a lot easier!
And that, my friends, was the last date I’ve been on (it was early May.) It’s been a sad state of affairs online lately; over the last few months, nobody has caught my interest in the least (except a guy I’ve nicknamed “California”, but he lives too damn far away and thinks us Canadians are weird with our bags of milk, two-fours of beer, and loonies and toonies, eh?)
I digress. Guess what? It’s time to tell you about my ex…
Sex, Drugs & Movies
Completely random text message on a Tuesday night in November:
Mr. Ego: What's new and exciting miss stranger?
Wait. What? Mr. Ego? I hadn't heard from him since I was forced to make him breakfast in my undies (June), followed by poke-a-palooza (Facebook pokes, not THAT kind of poke! God, you guys are so perverted.)
When I didn't respond right away, I received another text:
Mr. Ego: So what, you don't respond to my txts anymore? Pffffft.
Redhead: Calm down. I was busy last night. Not a whole lot new and exciting. Work. Exercise. Prep for Mexico. Oooh, I fell off a rock climbing wall! Does that count?
Mr. Ego: Yes! Still clumsy, I see. When do you go to Mexico? Wanna bring me? I can be your private cabana boy!!!!
Redhead: Mid Jan. And you wish.
Mr. Ego: Maybe I do! What are you up to this wknd?
I know a booty call (text?) when I see one; I am many things, but stupid is not one of them. Lonely, on the other hand…
Here's the thing: I've always been 100% sure that Mr. Ego is NOT my person. We can hang out, we can flirt like mad, and we can have sex, but he's not my #onetruelove (shout out to California. Ha.)
I invited Mr. Ego over to hang out and watch movies, and unfortunately, had to make it clear that it was a no-sex deal, due to shark week and the hangover from hell (I had been very drunk in Alliston the night before.) I fully expected him to bail due to those stipulations, but surprisingly, he arrived on my doorstep a few hours later, begging me to order food because he was starving.
"So," I asked him, "Where the hell have you been the last few months?"
"I met someone and we dated for awhile. It didn't work out."
Ouch. Even though I knew he wasn't "my person", I had to admit, it still hurt a little that he never wanted anything serious from me.
Mr. Ego and I spent the night curled up together on my couch, watching movies, eating panzerottos (deep fried, of course!) and drinking wine. It was fun and comfortable, as if I were hanging out with an old friend. I'll be completely honest here and say that he made a great replacement for someone that took my heart, stomped all over it, and is no longer in my life. This will make much more sense in the near future, but some of you know exactly who I'm talking about.
Mr. Ego has poked you.
Poke back.
Mr. Ego has poked you.
Poke back.
Buzz! Text message:
Mr. Ego: Whatcha doing this weekend?
Redhead: Yoga and errands. Are you inviting yourself over?
Mr. Ego: Hahaha. Yes.
Redhead: Bring alcohol.
And so he did. Once again, we spent a cozy Saturday night on my couch, watching movies and drinking wine. Suddenly, he looked at me with an evil grin.
"Soooooo, I brought something, and I think you should partake."
"Oh God. What?" I asked him, and he reached over and pulled a very small bag of pot out of his jacket, dangling it like a carrot in front of my nose.
I groaned. "Mr. Ego, you KNOW I don't smoke. It makes me sleepy, stupid, and anti-social."
"I'll just make a pinner. You'll be fine, and it's just us. Live a little!" he teased.
I narrowed my eyes at him and said, "Fine," even though he was already rolling a very small joint.
When it was ready, he grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bathroom. We shoved towels under the door and opened the window.
"This is SO high school," I muttered, and he laughed at me. We passed the joint back and forth, and I emptied a can of air freshener into the bathroom when we were done.
Back on the couch, he put on Inception, and it wasn't five minutes before I started to giggle.
Mr. Ego smirked at me, "You okay over there?"
This caused me to laugh even harder, and he grabbed me and pulled me over to him.
"What?" I giggled.
"You," he said.
"Me what?" I asked, but we were making out before he could answer. There were hands pulling off clothes and then he was dragging me into my bedroom for some hot sex, which happened a couple times that night…and once in the morning.
Let me just say, there's nothing like having an itch scratched…with a really cute, muscular guy.
In the morning, we made french toast together, and watched the most fucked-up movie I have ever seen in my entire life: The Human Centipede. If you choose to watch it, you will need a strong stomach. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Early in the afternoon, Mr. Ego gave me a hug and kiss and left.
We texted back and forth over the next few days, and then I was off to London to spend Christmas with my family. We texted each other on Christmas Day. We wished each other a Happy New Year. He wanted to know when I was coming back to Toronto.
When I returned, I did not hear from him. In typical Mr. Ego fashion, he poked me ad nauseam on Facebook, but he made no effort to meet up with me.
I grew frustrated with the Facebook pokes from time to time, and ignored them. Not that he would ever take the hint or anything:
Mr. Ego has poked you.
Poke back.
Mr. Ego has poked you.
FML.
I can't explain why, but I decided to creep his profile last week, and that's when I noticed this: ♥ In a relationship.
Ugh. This really bothered me. Not because I changed my mind about Mr. Ego being "my person", but because it's become apparent that he can't even be my friend when he's dating someone else. Save for his obnoxious Facebook pokes, I only hear from him if he's single and horny, and he is obviously just making sure that I'm still around as a back-up plan.
I'm so over it...and in need of a new fuck buddy.
Mr. Ego: What's new and exciting miss stranger?
Wait. What? Mr. Ego? I hadn't heard from him since I was forced to make him breakfast in my undies (June), followed by poke-a-palooza (Facebook pokes, not THAT kind of poke! God, you guys are so perverted.)
When I didn't respond right away, I received another text:
Mr. Ego: So what, you don't respond to my txts anymore? Pffffft.
Redhead: Calm down. I was busy last night. Not a whole lot new and exciting. Work. Exercise. Prep for Mexico. Oooh, I fell off a rock climbing wall! Does that count?
Mr. Ego: Yes! Still clumsy, I see. When do you go to Mexico? Wanna bring me? I can be your private cabana boy!!!!
Redhead: Mid Jan. And you wish.
Mr. Ego: Maybe I do! What are you up to this wknd?
I know a booty call (text?) when I see one; I am many things, but stupid is not one of them. Lonely, on the other hand…
Here's the thing: I've always been 100% sure that Mr. Ego is NOT my person. We can hang out, we can flirt like mad, and we can have sex, but he's not my #onetruelove (shout out to California. Ha.)
I invited Mr. Ego over to hang out and watch movies, and unfortunately, had to make it clear that it was a no-sex deal, due to shark week and the hangover from hell (I had been very drunk in Alliston the night before.) I fully expected him to bail due to those stipulations, but surprisingly, he arrived on my doorstep a few hours later, begging me to order food because he was starving.
"So," I asked him, "Where the hell have you been the last few months?"
"I met someone and we dated for awhile. It didn't work out."
Ouch. Even though I knew he wasn't "my person", I had to admit, it still hurt a little that he never wanted anything serious from me.
Mr. Ego and I spent the night curled up together on my couch, watching movies, eating panzerottos (deep fried, of course!) and drinking wine. It was fun and comfortable, as if I were hanging out with an old friend. I'll be completely honest here and say that he made a great replacement for someone that took my heart, stomped all over it, and is no longer in my life. This will make much more sense in the near future, but some of you know exactly who I'm talking about.
Mr. Ego has poked you.
Poke back.
Mr. Ego has poked you.
Poke back.
Buzz! Text message:
Mr. Ego: Whatcha doing this weekend?
Redhead: Yoga and errands. Are you inviting yourself over?
Mr. Ego: Hahaha. Yes.
Redhead: Bring alcohol.
And so he did. Once again, we spent a cozy Saturday night on my couch, watching movies and drinking wine. Suddenly, he looked at me with an evil grin.
"Soooooo, I brought something, and I think you should partake."
"Oh God. What?" I asked him, and he reached over and pulled a very small bag of pot out of his jacket, dangling it like a carrot in front of my nose.
I groaned. "Mr. Ego, you KNOW I don't smoke. It makes me sleepy, stupid, and anti-social."
"I'll just make a pinner. You'll be fine, and it's just us. Live a little!" he teased.
I narrowed my eyes at him and said, "Fine," even though he was already rolling a very small joint.
When it was ready, he grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bathroom. We shoved towels under the door and opened the window.
"This is SO high school," I muttered, and he laughed at me. We passed the joint back and forth, and I emptied a can of air freshener into the bathroom when we were done.
Back on the couch, he put on Inception, and it wasn't five minutes before I started to giggle.
Mr. Ego smirked at me, "You okay over there?"
This caused me to laugh even harder, and he grabbed me and pulled me over to him.
"What?" I giggled.
"You," he said.
"Me what?" I asked, but we were making out before he could answer. There were hands pulling off clothes and then he was dragging me into my bedroom for some hot sex, which happened a couple times that night…and once in the morning.
Let me just say, there's nothing like having an itch scratched…with a really cute, muscular guy.
In the morning, we made french toast together, and watched the most fucked-up movie I have ever seen in my entire life: The Human Centipede. If you choose to watch it, you will need a strong stomach. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Early in the afternoon, Mr. Ego gave me a hug and kiss and left.
We texted back and forth over the next few days, and then I was off to London to spend Christmas with my family. We texted each other on Christmas Day. We wished each other a Happy New Year. He wanted to know when I was coming back to Toronto.
When I returned, I did not hear from him. In typical Mr. Ego fashion, he poked me ad nauseam on Facebook, but he made no effort to meet up with me.
I grew frustrated with the Facebook pokes from time to time, and ignored them. Not that he would ever take the hint or anything:
Mr. Ego has poked you.
Poke back.
Mr. Ego has poked you.
FML.
I can't explain why, but I decided to creep his profile last week, and that's when I noticed this: ♥ In a relationship.
Ugh. This really bothered me. Not because I changed my mind about Mr. Ego being "my person", but because it's become apparent that he can't even be my friend when he's dating someone else. Save for his obnoxious Facebook pokes, I only hear from him if he's single and horny, and he is obviously just making sure that I'm still around as a back-up plan.
I'm so over it...and in need of a new fuck buddy.
Le Dumbass
Following Polish Dude, it took a good month before I came across a guy who really caught my attention, and although he wasn't the most attractive guy in the world, I was immediately impressed with his intelligence and great sense of humour.
We e-mailed back and forth a bunch of times on Lavalife, and I discovered that he was an elementary school French teacher who was originally from Montréal (I shall call him "Le Habitant"). He had two brothers, both of whom lived in Boston, and his parents lived in Florida.
Le Habitant and I made plans to meet up at a local bar on a Tuesday night, and unfortunately, it was absolutely pouring rain. My stomach churning nervously (as always), I ran from the subway station to the pub entrance. I shook out my umbrella and turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs.
"Hey!" I said.
"Hey!" he replied, "Who's stupid idea was it to meet on such a miserable night?"
"Ha! That was all you. Let's go inside."
We sat at a small table by the window, and each ordered a beer, then talked about our respective days. The waiter returned with our drinks, and laughed as he placed a huge mug with a handle in front of me (Spaten), and a very small glass in front of him (Red Stripe).
"Wow," Le Habitant said, "That is a BIG beer."
"I had it the last time I was here. I need two hands to lift it!"
"Is that a SHOVEL on the label? That's pretty serious."
"Your little beer, on the other hand…" I said, and made my best unimpressed face.
"Hey! I'm comfortable with my manhood!" he said, and we both cracked up.
Unfortunately, it was trivia night at the pub, and soon the tables around us were filled with loud people arguing over correct answers. Le Habitant knew the answer to a question about a British actor, and helped out the guys at the table next to us.
As the night went on, I remember thinking that Le Habitant was seriously growing on me. He was not hot, but cute, smart and really funny. I liked him, and I wanted to see him again.
We finally decided to call it a night, and when the bill came, I reached for my purse.
"No, absolutely not," he said.
"But—"
"Your money is no good here."
Score one for the Hab.
Leaving the pub, we paused just inside the entrance, and I pulled out my umbrella.
"Wait right here," he said.
"What? Why?"
"I'm going to get you a cab, and pay for your ride home."
"What? Don't be ridiculous!" I replied, shocked.
"Redhead, it's pouring rain and late."
"No! Seriously, I'm absolutely fine. I have a Metropass, and I live ten minutes from here. No cab. PLEASE."
He saw the look of resolve on my face, and sighed. I smiled and gave him a quick hug, thanking him for a great night.
"Can you at LEAST send me an e-mail when you get home?" he asked.
"I'll do one better. Here's my business card. Text me your number and I'll let you know when I get home."
He smiled, and put my card in his pocket.
"Thanks again!" I said, as I stepped out of the doorway and dashed across the street to catch the coming streetcar. We exchanged a bunch of text messages during my ride home, and I let him know when I arrived at my apartment.
The next morning, I received a text message:
LeHab: Just a friendly reminder: I had a great time last night :)
Le Habitant and I texted back and forth for a couple of weeks, and I was honestly not sure if he was ever going to ask me out again, until finally:
LeHab: So when are you free this week/weekend? I was hoping we could meet up.
Redhead: I'm free the rest of this week. Busy this weekend.
LeHab: How's Thursday then?
Redhead: Works for me. What do you want to do? Drink more baby beers?
LeHab: Was thinking we could do a nice dinner, actually :) Is Yonge and Davisville too far?
Redhead: Not at all.
LeHab: The Firkin there is really cozy and there shouldn't be any trivia nights :P. Let's meet outside the subway station at 7?
Wait, the FIRKIN? I'm sorry, but when someone suggests a "nice dinner", the last place I would think of is the Firkin, which is just an English-style pub. Weird.
Redhead: I know it well. Sounds like a plan.
LeHab: Looking forward to it.
Thursday night, I met him outside Davisville subway station, and we crossed the street to the Bull & Firkin. Taking a seat in an upstairs booth, I immediately noticed some strange sounds coming from the front of the bar.
Le Habitant noticed the confused look on my face and said, "Oh great, Tourret's dude is here."
"WHO?"
"There's this guy who comes in here all the time, and he has Tourette's syndrome. He just yells out random shit."
Do you have ANY idea how difficult it is to have a conversation while some guy yells (often obscenities) every two to three minutes? Don't get me wrong, I feel horrible for anyone dealing with such a disorder, but it does make for an awkward date.
Le Habitant and I each ordered a beer while we perused the dinner menu. I opted for a simple grilled cheese sandwich with tomato and sweet potato fries. He, on the other hand, ordered "The Big Poutine" AND Irish Nachos.
When the food arrived, I was slightly horrified at his massive portions. Each bowl was as big as my head, and he held his fork like a shovel and began to scoop heaps of the greasy food into his mouth quickly, as if he were a competitive eater. He barely said a word while we ate, as he would have had to do so with his mouth full. At one point, he offered to let me try his food, I politely declined, and the next time I looked up, it was all gone.
I let him talk while I finished the other half of my sandwich and picked at my fries, and then I noticed him looking at his watch.
"Do you have to be somewhere?" I asked.
"Well…I just realized if I leave now, I have time to pick up my car at the shop before it closes! That would save me a trip tomorrow."
"Right. Well, don't let me keep you," I said (with an admittedly sarcastic edge to my voice, which he completely missed), and he signaled for the bill.
A few minutes later, the waitress placed it on the table, and he grabbed it.
"How much do I owe?" I asked.
"Just give me $20 and I'll cover the rest," he replied, and took the twenty dollar bill from my extended hand (Stef pointed out later that there's no way my sandwich and beer even came to $20, so he wasn't doing me any favours).
"Thanks," I said, and realized he was already standing outside the booth with his coat and scarf on.
Jesus. Was this guy serious?
We walked out into the cold and across the street to the subway station. He gave me a quick hug and ran to catch the bus.
I was home before nine and sat down, stunned. It was as if the first and second dates were with two completely different people.
Buzz. Text message.
LeHab: Did you get home ok?
Redhead: Yes. Did you get your car?
LeHab: Yes I did. Double win! We're awesome.
Yeah, not so much. I never replied to that text message, and I never heard from him again.
Next up: I get lonely and do dumb things. At this point, are you really surprised?
We e-mailed back and forth a bunch of times on Lavalife, and I discovered that he was an elementary school French teacher who was originally from Montréal (I shall call him "Le Habitant"). He had two brothers, both of whom lived in Boston, and his parents lived in Florida.
Le Habitant and I made plans to meet up at a local bar on a Tuesday night, and unfortunately, it was absolutely pouring rain. My stomach churning nervously (as always), I ran from the subway station to the pub entrance. I shook out my umbrella and turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs.
"Hey!" I said.
"Hey!" he replied, "Who's stupid idea was it to meet on such a miserable night?"
"Ha! That was all you. Let's go inside."
We sat at a small table by the window, and each ordered a beer, then talked about our respective days. The waiter returned with our drinks, and laughed as he placed a huge mug with a handle in front of me (Spaten), and a very small glass in front of him (Red Stripe).
"Wow," Le Habitant said, "That is a BIG beer."
"I had it the last time I was here. I need two hands to lift it!"
"Is that a SHOVEL on the label? That's pretty serious."
"Your little beer, on the other hand…" I said, and made my best unimpressed face.
"Hey! I'm comfortable with my manhood!" he said, and we both cracked up.
Unfortunately, it was trivia night at the pub, and soon the tables around us were filled with loud people arguing over correct answers. Le Habitant knew the answer to a question about a British actor, and helped out the guys at the table next to us.
As the night went on, I remember thinking that Le Habitant was seriously growing on me. He was not hot, but cute, smart and really funny. I liked him, and I wanted to see him again.
We finally decided to call it a night, and when the bill came, I reached for my purse.
"No, absolutely not," he said.
"But—"
"Your money is no good here."
Score one for the Hab.
Leaving the pub, we paused just inside the entrance, and I pulled out my umbrella.
"Wait right here," he said.
"What? Why?"
"I'm going to get you a cab, and pay for your ride home."
"What? Don't be ridiculous!" I replied, shocked.
"Redhead, it's pouring rain and late."
"No! Seriously, I'm absolutely fine. I have a Metropass, and I live ten minutes from here. No cab. PLEASE."
He saw the look of resolve on my face, and sighed. I smiled and gave him a quick hug, thanking him for a great night.
"Can you at LEAST send me an e-mail when you get home?" he asked.
"I'll do one better. Here's my business card. Text me your number and I'll let you know when I get home."
He smiled, and put my card in his pocket.
"Thanks again!" I said, as I stepped out of the doorway and dashed across the street to catch the coming streetcar. We exchanged a bunch of text messages during my ride home, and I let him know when I arrived at my apartment.
The next morning, I received a text message:
LeHab: Just a friendly reminder: I had a great time last night :)
Le Habitant and I texted back and forth for a couple of weeks, and I was honestly not sure if he was ever going to ask me out again, until finally:
LeHab: So when are you free this week/weekend? I was hoping we could meet up.
Redhead: I'm free the rest of this week. Busy this weekend.
LeHab: How's Thursday then?
Redhead: Works for me. What do you want to do? Drink more baby beers?
LeHab: Was thinking we could do a nice dinner, actually :) Is Yonge and Davisville too far?
Redhead: Not at all.
LeHab: The Firkin there is really cozy and there shouldn't be any trivia nights :P. Let's meet outside the subway station at 7?
Wait, the FIRKIN? I'm sorry, but when someone suggests a "nice dinner", the last place I would think of is the Firkin, which is just an English-style pub. Weird.
Redhead: I know it well. Sounds like a plan.
LeHab: Looking forward to it.
Thursday night, I met him outside Davisville subway station, and we crossed the street to the Bull & Firkin. Taking a seat in an upstairs booth, I immediately noticed some strange sounds coming from the front of the bar.
Le Habitant noticed the confused look on my face and said, "Oh great, Tourret's dude is here."
"WHO?"
"There's this guy who comes in here all the time, and he has Tourette's syndrome. He just yells out random shit."
Do you have ANY idea how difficult it is to have a conversation while some guy yells (often obscenities) every two to three minutes? Don't get me wrong, I feel horrible for anyone dealing with such a disorder, but it does make for an awkward date.
Le Habitant and I each ordered a beer while we perused the dinner menu. I opted for a simple grilled cheese sandwich with tomato and sweet potato fries. He, on the other hand, ordered "The Big Poutine" AND Irish Nachos.
When the food arrived, I was slightly horrified at his massive portions. Each bowl was as big as my head, and he held his fork like a shovel and began to scoop heaps of the greasy food into his mouth quickly, as if he were a competitive eater. He barely said a word while we ate, as he would have had to do so with his mouth full. At one point, he offered to let me try his food, I politely declined, and the next time I looked up, it was all gone.
I let him talk while I finished the other half of my sandwich and picked at my fries, and then I noticed him looking at his watch.
"Do you have to be somewhere?" I asked.
"Well…I just realized if I leave now, I have time to pick up my car at the shop before it closes! That would save me a trip tomorrow."
"Right. Well, don't let me keep you," I said (with an admittedly sarcastic edge to my voice, which he completely missed), and he signaled for the bill.
A few minutes later, the waitress placed it on the table, and he grabbed it.
"How much do I owe?" I asked.
"Just give me $20 and I'll cover the rest," he replied, and took the twenty dollar bill from my extended hand (Stef pointed out later that there's no way my sandwich and beer even came to $20, so he wasn't doing me any favours).
"Thanks," I said, and realized he was already standing outside the booth with his coat and scarf on.
Jesus. Was this guy serious?
We walked out into the cold and across the street to the subway station. He gave me a quick hug and ran to catch the bus.
I was home before nine and sat down, stunned. It was as if the first and second dates were with two completely different people.
Buzz. Text message.
LeHab: Did you get home ok?
Redhead: Yes. Did you get your car?
LeHab: Yes I did. Double win! We're awesome.
Yeah, not so much. I never replied to that text message, and I never heard from him again.
Next up: I get lonely and do dumb things. At this point, are you really surprised?
Man Up
Mar 11, 2011 – 9:54am
wow.. your up early ...
are you watching the sunami news?
hopefully you don't have any family/friends affected...
on a more cheerful note... what about getting together this weekend?
i would love to get to know you better...
give me a shout... jacob
Mar 16, 2011 – 4:59pm
Tick tock, tick tock…
Time comes and goes… but never returns…
Every moment we have not connected is lost…
I would rather spend it getting to know you better…
Hopefully you feel the same…
We all eat and drink…
Let’s break some bread and wine together…
Reaching out through time and space to you…
Blinded by the light…
I’ll turn you on to something strong…
Jacob
Mar 21, 2011 – 5:24am
your not making this easy... but, i suppose you don't have to make it easy for me...
all I am saying... i would love for us to get to know each other better.
all I am saying... make a step... i've been running head first towards you.
all I am saying....this shouldn't be so complicated.
all I am saying... you also want to meet someone to share with.
all I am saying... let's make it real.
all I am saying... man up... let's do this.
Jacob
Mar 29, 2011 – 12:31pm
Here… let me try and make this easier for you… I was shocked to see someone as good as you on an online web thingy… normally you would only meet someone like yourself through a friend or something… but here we are….
You know by now that I like you and I think we would be good together… you know little about me, so I put a list together below… things I think are some of my “better” qualities…
Bottom line… let’s get together… tell me what you are looking for… I’m confident I found what I am looking for…
• accepts you as you are
• adventurous in bed and out
• allows you your own space
• am a positive person and has a positive outlook most of the time
• amazes you
• builds you up and helps you to be a better woman
• can more than satisfy sexually
• compassionate
• does not play video games obsessively
• doesn’t complain about everything
• doesn’t do drugs
• doesn’t hold grudges
• doesn’t make you worry or fearful
• emotionally stable
• encourages you
• faithful
• family oriented
• financially secure
• fun
• funny
• handles conflict with maturity
• has a positive outlook on life
• has a sense of humour
• has ambition
• has morals
• has patience
• has self-respect
• helpful
• hold your hand, just because
• honest
• intelligent
• is not a follower
• is patient with you
• is there for you
• is your best friend
• is your hero
• isn’t a slob
• is kind
• knows how to cook
• likes animals (but allergic to cats)
• likes to cook on the grill
• likes to hold you just because
• likes to just hold you
• likes to just sit on the deck and chill
• loves to go out and have a drink and chill
• loves you unconditionally
• makes you a priority in my life
• makes you feel secure and loved
• makes you smile
• makes you smile / laugh
• mild jealously
• means what I say
• not an alcoholic / only moderate social drinking
• not Lazy.. still to be determined
• not clingy
• respects you
• romantic
• secure in a relationship
• someone you can confide in
• someone you can talk to
• stands up for you
• surprises you every once in a while
• thinks you are all that (in my eyes)
• understanding
• willing to help
• willing to hire someone to do yard work
• your best friend
He finally gave up after I messaged him and told him I have a cat, so it would never work. I really expected him to put up more of a fight, but I'm sure the next crazy person will be along shortly.
Stay tuned...
wow.. your up early ...
are you watching the sunami news?
hopefully you don't have any family/friends affected...
on a more cheerful note... what about getting together this weekend?
i would love to get to know you better...
give me a shout... jacob
Mar 16, 2011 – 4:59pm
Tick tock, tick tock…
Time comes and goes… but never returns…
Every moment we have not connected is lost…
I would rather spend it getting to know you better…
Hopefully you feel the same…
We all eat and drink…
Let’s break some bread and wine together…
Reaching out through time and space to you…
Blinded by the light…
I’ll turn you on to something strong…
Jacob
Mar 21, 2011 – 5:24am
your not making this easy... but, i suppose you don't have to make it easy for me...
all I am saying... i would love for us to get to know each other better.
all I am saying... make a step... i've been running head first towards you.
all I am saying....this shouldn't be so complicated.
all I am saying... you also want to meet someone to share with.
all I am saying... let's make it real.
all I am saying... man up... let's do this.
Jacob
Mar 29, 2011 – 12:31pm
Here… let me try and make this easier for you… I was shocked to see someone as good as you on an online web thingy… normally you would only meet someone like yourself through a friend or something… but here we are….
You know by now that I like you and I think we would be good together… you know little about me, so I put a list together below… things I think are some of my “better” qualities…
Bottom line… let’s get together… tell me what you are looking for… I’m confident I found what I am looking for…
• accepts you as you are
• adventurous in bed and out
• allows you your own space
• am a positive person and has a positive outlook most of the time
• amazes you
• builds you up and helps you to be a better woman
• can more than satisfy sexually
• compassionate
• does not play video games obsessively
• doesn’t complain about everything
• doesn’t do drugs
• doesn’t hold grudges
• doesn’t make you worry or fearful
• emotionally stable
• encourages you
• faithful
• family oriented
• financially secure
• fun
• funny
• handles conflict with maturity
• has a positive outlook on life
• has a sense of humour
• has ambition
• has morals
• has patience
• has self-respect
• helpful
• hold your hand, just because
• honest
• intelligent
• is not a follower
• is patient with you
• is there for you
• is your best friend
• is your hero
• isn’t a slob
• is kind
• knows how to cook
• likes animals (but allergic to cats)
• likes to cook on the grill
• likes to hold you just because
• likes to just hold you
• likes to just sit on the deck and chill
• loves to go out and have a drink and chill
• loves you unconditionally
• makes you a priority in my life
• makes you feel secure and loved
• makes you smile
• makes you smile / laugh
• mild jealously
• means what I say
• not an alcoholic / only moderate social drinking
• not Lazy.. still to be determined
• not clingy
• respects you
• romantic
• secure in a relationship
• someone you can confide in
• someone you can talk to
• stands up for you
• surprises you every once in a while
• thinks you are all that (in my eyes)
• understanding
• willing to help
• willing to hire someone to do yard work
• your best friend
He finally gave up after I messaged him and told him I have a cat, so it would never work. I really expected him to put up more of a fight, but I'm sure the next crazy person will be along shortly.
Stay tuned...
The Kiss of Death
"So," my office buddy asked me on Monday, "how did your date go?"
"Good. He was nice," I replied, in reference to Polish Dude, and she raised an eyebrow. I've come to realize that coming from me, "nice" is the kiss of death. It's only a matter of time.
The second I signed on to Gmail, Polish Dude was right on top of me, wanting to know why I had not returned his text message right away, because he'd had a really great time, I was the "highlight of his night", and when could he see me again?
Whoa. He was zooming (as in, ahead of me); I could tell. I hate it when they zoom, and I'm left behind, trying to find my footing and sort out my feelings.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about my dating history lately, and I've come to realize that all of the guys I have dated seriously (save for my most recent ex), I was friends with for a long time first. Jumping into a relationship with someone I just met is very unnatural to me, so I like to take things slow and let the progression happen organically. I don't like to jump in with both feet, as I might have done in the past. I want to be SURE.
Polish Dude and I would often talk on Google Chat, but our conversations tended to be rather mundane and boring. He often took me too seriously, and didn't quite get my sarcastic sense of humour. He was already making plans for us in the future and needed constant reassurance, which often became awkward:
polishDude: So, are you coming with me to the Food and Wine Expo? :D
redhead: Well, it's still early. It will depend on how the second date goes.
polishDude: Please don't hate me!!!!!!! :'(:'(
redhead: Whoa. What? Why would I hate you?
polishDude: I was kidding! It was my own response to my previous statement.
redhead: Okay, crazy person.
polishDude: Oh no :-/ Explain. Crazy in a good or bad way????
redhead: I'm just kidding!
Online dating newbies are the WORST. Oh, and then there was this:
polishDude: Will someone take care of your cat while you're away? (I was headed to London for the weekend)
redhead: No, she's fine for a weekend. I just dump a bunch of dry cat food in a couple bowls and she has one of those water dispensers with the jug thing on top.
polishDude: If I left my cat alone for a weekend, she would finish all the food in an hour and starve for the rest of the weekend.
redhead: Haha, she might very well do that, but she's fat. She won't die. Huh. I just realized I'm probably going to make a terrible mother.
polishDude: That's not something you should be openly telling to a boyfriend applicant.
redhead: Probably not.
polishDude: Don't worry, my maternal instincts have already kicked in. I'm ready to be a mommy
redhead: Uh…what?
polishDude: Other than the breast feeding situation, I can handle the rest.
redhead: ...
polishDude: Have I managed to disturb you?
redhead: Very much so.
polishDude: Nice, I can tick that off my list.
redhead: I'm afraid to ask what else is on the list.
polishDude: Wouldn't you like to know
polishDude: Ok I'll tell you one thing but only because you'll be gone for the weekend so it will give you something to think about.
redhead: Still kind of afraid.
polishDude: there's also "to kiss you" on the list :-o
polishDude: How's that for making you feel akward :P
redhead: Completely awkward. You win.
He talked about spending entire weekends together. Preparing meals together. Watching tv together. Everything together. A flag was waving…the one that signals a smotherer.
And did I mention he still lived at home? Ugh.
We made plans for dinner and a movie the following Friday night. Unfortunately, I got home from work late, so we had to skip dinner in order to make it to the movie in time. He picked me up in front of my building around nine, and as I was getting in the car, he thrust a bouquet of flowers at me.
"I, uh, wow!" I said, "What are these for?"
"Just because."
"Oh. Well, thank you. That's very sweet of you."
We headed downtown to the big Scotiabank Theatre, and grabbed a couple slices of pizza on our way into the movie.
"What is this movie about?" I asked, as I had forgotten to look it up online beforehand.
"I'm not going to tell you. It's better if it's a surprise," he replied.
"I hate surprises," I muttered, and went back to eating my pizza.
The movie was called Let Me In. Have any of you seen it? Talk about disturbing. A creepy and socially inept kid makes friends with a VAMPIRE CHILD, for God's sakes. Blood and guts and biting and no shoes in the snow. It was so completely bizarre that I burst out laughing a number of times (I wasn't the only one.)
After the movie, Polish Dude asked me what I thought, and I told him that the vampire thing caught me completely off-guard, and I had found it odd, gory and quite ridiculous.*
"Fair enough," was his reply.
Driving back to my neck of the woods, he asked if I would be up for a coffee, and although I was tired and just wanted to go home, I agreed. We reached St. Clair Avenue, and I told him to take a left, which he did, RIGHT ONTO THE DEDICATED STREETCAR TRACKS!
Thankfully, it was late and there weren't any streetcars, because he continued to drive along until he found an opening, and then launched the car off the ledge, which was a good six inches high, and we landed on the road with a thud.
"Ooops," he said, and chuckled (he doesn't laugh, remember?)
I. was. MORTIFIED.
We parked just down the street from my building and I told him I was going to run inside and put the flowers in water. I thought he would wait for me outside, as I didn't invite him in, but when I went to unlock the front door, he was right behind me, and followed me into the building. Not cool.
Not only did he follow me into the building, but right into my apartment. This made me very uncomfortable, as my apartment was a bit of a mess, and I'm really weird about people coming into my space uninvited.
I went into the kitchen and hurriedly filled a glass with water so we could get the hell out of there, while he stood in the entryway. Willow came to investigate and he bent down to pet her.
Still uncomfortable, I shoved the flowers in the glass of water and said, "Okay, let's go," and ushered him out the door.
"She's cute," he said, referring to Willow.
"Yeah, she's fucking adorable. Also, hungry, expensive, bipolar, and a lemon."
We walked to the Tim Hortons around the corner, as it was the only thing open at such a late hour, grabbed a couple of hot chocolates, and sat down.
I don't remember what we talked about, but I do remember that conversation had no flow, and there were lots of uncomfortable silences.
Suddenly, we felt a presence looming over us, and we looked up to see this obviously high and possibly homeless chick standing beside our table.
"Do you have the time?" she asked Polish Dude.
He checked his watch and told her, then turned back to me.
"Sorry, what was the time again?" she asked, and he repeated it to her.
She continued to stand there, wobbling slightly. I gave Polish Dude my best WTF? look.
"I like your hair," she said to me.
"Thank you," I replied.
"It's red."
"Yes, it is."
"Do you guys have any change?"
Polish Dude told her no, sorry, we didn't have any change.
"Okay," she replied, and FINALLY headed out the door.
"Wow. What the hell was THAT?" I said, shaking my head, and he mustered a small chuckle.
Suddenly I felt a looming presence again, and realized that she was now standing right outside the window, still staring at us.
We ignored her and she finally went away, but it was time for me to go home. We threw our empty cups in the garbage and began to walk toward my building.
"Cold?" he asked, as he noticed me rubbing my hands together, and before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand and held it.
"I can't wait for Mexico. Only two months away!" I said, as a distraction from the awkward hand-holding.
He sighed. "What will I do?"
"Huh?"
"What will I do while you're gone for a whole week in Mexico? I'll be so sad and lost without you."
Uh, what the fuck? This was date number two, and he was worried about me leaving for a week two months down the road?
In front of my building, he leaned it for a kiss. I gave it to him quick, all grandma-like, and bolted for the door (checking behind me to make sure he wasn't following me again!)
The next morning, a text message:
Sorry for keeping you up so late last night. I owe you $10 (I covered parking because he had no cash on him) so you'll need to see me at least once more. Ps. You're amazing
Little brother (#2) came to visit me the next day, as he was leaving for basic training in Québec a week later, and we sat down to discuss my latest date. By the end of my story, he was laughing, and shaking his head at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You! Why are you even hesitating to dump this guy? You're SO not into him. And he would suffocate you. You wouldn't be able to do anything without him."
I sighed. "You're absolutely right."
We were both quiet for a minute, and then he said, "P.S. You're amazing!" and we both burst out laughing. For the rest of the weekend, my brother and I would say that to each other, for absolutely no reason. We still do it now.
The following Monday, I sent Polish Dude this e-mail:
Hi,
I'm sorry I wasn't able to get back to you sooner, but I've had a very busy couple of days.
That said, I'm just going to cut to the chase. You're a great guy and I've had a lot of fun with you, but I'm just not feeling enough chemistry for us to continue seeing each other. You did nothing wrong and I really wanted it to be there, but it is what it is. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, and the last thing I ever wanted to do is hurt your feelings.
I'm happy to be friends if that's what you'd like, but I understand if you're not interested in that. Thank you for everything, and I wish you the very best of luck in finding what you're looking for.
Redhead.
A couple days later, his response:
Good luck to you too.
Polish Dude
And that was that.
Up next? Do I have some great e-mails for you!
*Surprisingly, the reviews are very favourable, so if you dig young vampire/human relations, go get your weird on.
"Good. He was nice," I replied, in reference to Polish Dude, and she raised an eyebrow. I've come to realize that coming from me, "nice" is the kiss of death. It's only a matter of time.
The second I signed on to Gmail, Polish Dude was right on top of me, wanting to know why I had not returned his text message right away, because he'd had a really great time, I was the "highlight of his night", and when could he see me again?
Whoa. He was zooming (as in, ahead of me); I could tell. I hate it when they zoom, and I'm left behind, trying to find my footing and sort out my feelings.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about my dating history lately, and I've come to realize that all of the guys I have dated seriously (save for my most recent ex), I was friends with for a long time first. Jumping into a relationship with someone I just met is very unnatural to me, so I like to take things slow and let the progression happen organically. I don't like to jump in with both feet, as I might have done in the past. I want to be SURE.
Polish Dude and I would often talk on Google Chat, but our conversations tended to be rather mundane and boring. He often took me too seriously, and didn't quite get my sarcastic sense of humour. He was already making plans for us in the future and needed constant reassurance, which often became awkward:
polishDude: So, are you coming with me to the Food and Wine Expo? :D
redhead: Well, it's still early. It will depend on how the second date goes.
polishDude: Please don't hate me!!!!!!! :'(:'(
redhead: Whoa. What? Why would I hate you?
polishDude: I was kidding! It was my own response to my previous statement.
redhead: Okay, crazy person.
polishDude: Oh no :-/ Explain. Crazy in a good or bad way????
redhead: I'm just kidding!
Online dating newbies are the WORST. Oh, and then there was this:
polishDude: Will someone take care of your cat while you're away? (I was headed to London for the weekend)
redhead: No, she's fine for a weekend. I just dump a bunch of dry cat food in a couple bowls and she has one of those water dispensers with the jug thing on top.
polishDude: If I left my cat alone for a weekend, she would finish all the food in an hour and starve for the rest of the weekend.
redhead: Haha, she might very well do that, but she's fat. She won't die. Huh. I just realized I'm probably going to make a terrible mother.
polishDude: That's not something you should be openly telling to a boyfriend applicant.
redhead: Probably not.
polishDude: Don't worry, my maternal instincts have already kicked in. I'm ready to be a mommy
redhead: Uh…what?
polishDude: Other than the breast feeding situation, I can handle the rest.
redhead: ...
polishDude: Have I managed to disturb you?
redhead: Very much so.
polishDude: Nice, I can tick that off my list.
redhead: I'm afraid to ask what else is on the list.
polishDude: Wouldn't you like to know
polishDude: Ok I'll tell you one thing but only because you'll be gone for the weekend so it will give you something to think about.
redhead: Still kind of afraid.
polishDude: there's also "to kiss you" on the list :-o
polishDude: How's that for making you feel akward :P
redhead: Completely awkward. You win.
He talked about spending entire weekends together. Preparing meals together. Watching tv together. Everything together. A flag was waving…the one that signals a smotherer.
And did I mention he still lived at home? Ugh.
We made plans for dinner and a movie the following Friday night. Unfortunately, I got home from work late, so we had to skip dinner in order to make it to the movie in time. He picked me up in front of my building around nine, and as I was getting in the car, he thrust a bouquet of flowers at me.
"I, uh, wow!" I said, "What are these for?"
"Just because."
"Oh. Well, thank you. That's very sweet of you."
We headed downtown to the big Scotiabank Theatre, and grabbed a couple slices of pizza on our way into the movie.
"What is this movie about?" I asked, as I had forgotten to look it up online beforehand.
"I'm not going to tell you. It's better if it's a surprise," he replied.
"I hate surprises," I muttered, and went back to eating my pizza.
The movie was called Let Me In. Have any of you seen it? Talk about disturbing. A creepy and socially inept kid makes friends with a VAMPIRE CHILD, for God's sakes. Blood and guts and biting and no shoes in the snow. It was so completely bizarre that I burst out laughing a number of times (I wasn't the only one.)
After the movie, Polish Dude asked me what I thought, and I told him that the vampire thing caught me completely off-guard, and I had found it odd, gory and quite ridiculous.*
"Fair enough," was his reply.
Driving back to my neck of the woods, he asked if I would be up for a coffee, and although I was tired and just wanted to go home, I agreed. We reached St. Clair Avenue, and I told him to take a left, which he did, RIGHT ONTO THE DEDICATED STREETCAR TRACKS!
Thankfully, it was late and there weren't any streetcars, because he continued to drive along until he found an opening, and then launched the car off the ledge, which was a good six inches high, and we landed on the road with a thud.
"Ooops," he said, and chuckled (he doesn't laugh, remember?)
I. was. MORTIFIED.
We parked just down the street from my building and I told him I was going to run inside and put the flowers in water. I thought he would wait for me outside, as I didn't invite him in, but when I went to unlock the front door, he was right behind me, and followed me into the building. Not cool.
Not only did he follow me into the building, but right into my apartment. This made me very uncomfortable, as my apartment was a bit of a mess, and I'm really weird about people coming into my space uninvited.
I went into the kitchen and hurriedly filled a glass with water so we could get the hell out of there, while he stood in the entryway. Willow came to investigate and he bent down to pet her.
Still uncomfortable, I shoved the flowers in the glass of water and said, "Okay, let's go," and ushered him out the door.
"She's cute," he said, referring to Willow.
"Yeah, she's fucking adorable. Also, hungry, expensive, bipolar, and a lemon."
We walked to the Tim Hortons around the corner, as it was the only thing open at such a late hour, grabbed a couple of hot chocolates, and sat down.
I don't remember what we talked about, but I do remember that conversation had no flow, and there were lots of uncomfortable silences.
Suddenly, we felt a presence looming over us, and we looked up to see this obviously high and possibly homeless chick standing beside our table.
"Do you have the time?" she asked Polish Dude.
He checked his watch and told her, then turned back to me.
"Sorry, what was the time again?" she asked, and he repeated it to her.
She continued to stand there, wobbling slightly. I gave Polish Dude my best WTF? look.
"I like your hair," she said to me.
"Thank you," I replied.
"It's red."
"Yes, it is."
"Do you guys have any change?"
Polish Dude told her no, sorry, we didn't have any change.
"Okay," she replied, and FINALLY headed out the door.
"Wow. What the hell was THAT?" I said, shaking my head, and he mustered a small chuckle.
Suddenly I felt a looming presence again, and realized that she was now standing right outside the window, still staring at us.
We ignored her and she finally went away, but it was time for me to go home. We threw our empty cups in the garbage and began to walk toward my building.
"Cold?" he asked, as he noticed me rubbing my hands together, and before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand and held it.
"I can't wait for Mexico. Only two months away!" I said, as a distraction from the awkward hand-holding.
He sighed. "What will I do?"
"Huh?"
"What will I do while you're gone for a whole week in Mexico? I'll be so sad and lost without you."
Uh, what the fuck? This was date number two, and he was worried about me leaving for a week two months down the road?
In front of my building, he leaned it for a kiss. I gave it to him quick, all grandma-like, and bolted for the door (checking behind me to make sure he wasn't following me again!)
The next morning, a text message:
Sorry for keeping you up so late last night. I owe you $10 (I covered parking because he had no cash on him) so you'll need to see me at least once more. Ps. You're amazing
Little brother (#2) came to visit me the next day, as he was leaving for basic training in Québec a week later, and we sat down to discuss my latest date. By the end of my story, he was laughing, and shaking his head at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You! Why are you even hesitating to dump this guy? You're SO not into him. And he would suffocate you. You wouldn't be able to do anything without him."
I sighed. "You're absolutely right."
We were both quiet for a minute, and then he said, "P.S. You're amazing!" and we both burst out laughing. For the rest of the weekend, my brother and I would say that to each other, for absolutely no reason. We still do it now.
The following Monday, I sent Polish Dude this e-mail:
Hi,
I'm sorry I wasn't able to get back to you sooner, but I've had a very busy couple of days.
That said, I'm just going to cut to the chase. You're a great guy and I've had a lot of fun with you, but I'm just not feeling enough chemistry for us to continue seeing each other. You did nothing wrong and I really wanted it to be there, but it is what it is. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, and the last thing I ever wanted to do is hurt your feelings.
I'm happy to be friends if that's what you'd like, but I understand if you're not interested in that. Thank you for everything, and I wish you the very best of luck in finding what you're looking for.
Redhead.
A couple days later, his response:
Good luck to you too.
Polish Dude
And that was that.
Up next? Do I have some great e-mails for you!
*Surprisingly, the reviews are very favourable, so if you dig young vampire/human relations, go get your weird on.
Fruit Pie Poetry
I'm working on the follow-up to the last post, so I thought I'd give you something to read in the meantime.
For some reason, I allowed little brother (#2) to talk me into signing up with ANOTHER dating site. It actually wasn't that hard, as Lava and POF have been teeming with idiots and assholes as of late, and I was beyond frustrated.
The new site is well designed (yay!), and free, with lots of compatibility questions to answer. I think it's likely a combination of Plenty of Fish and eHarmony?
Right off the bat, I got an e-mail from this super cute guy. Outdoorsy, tattooed, great smile—my type exactly. He sent me an IM and we were chatting about travel and extreme sports, when he suddenly cut me off to ask me what I was looking for on the site. I informed him that I'm hoping to eventually find something long-term, but I begin with dating and go from there. He seemed happy with that, and then told me he had to be honest, so as not to waste my time.
Those are always scary words in the online dating world.
cuteguy: i'm in an open relationship!
redhead: Yeah, that's not going to work for me. Appreciate the honesty.
cuteguy: no problem…too bad, but understandable
SERIOUSLY? Does that actually work for people?
So, not a great first impression of the site.
Since then I've received a few e-mails, mostly from guys that I rejected on Lava and POF. I think they are hoping I don't remember them, and that they have another shot. The answer is still no.
And then I received the following e-mail, which I can't seem to wrap my head around:
When I got up this morning, I saw you looking at my profile so I pulled up yours. The first words I saw were, in order, "independent, unpredictable, stubborn and ambitious, alternative and passionate". This made me stop reading your profile and get a coffee. When I came back I noticed that a woman had sent me an email saying that she had read my profile and loved the ideas in it but was concerned I might be dangerous. I couldn’t help but think that this was a strange way for a woman to try to meet a man.
In my Old Country, women display their willingness to mate with men by baking them fruit pies. As the men eat the pies with women recite love poetry they have written comparing the torment inherent in being separated from the man in question with the slaughter of our indigenous peoples. While there is no requirement for these poems to be in quatrain iambic pentameter, there is an expectation that the rhyme scheme and structure of the poem follow a set form much like a sonnet in an effort to make the poem a suitable length to cover the time period an average man takes to eat an average pie. I know things are different in Canada yet having a women suggest to me that I might be dangerous seemed better suited to Klingon mating than something between humans.
In any case, I did eventually return to your profile and read it in sentence form rather than just snatching word fragments from the page. I liked the artistic side of you and I appreciate that you like men with a sense of humour although I don’t have one myself.
Anyway, I thought maybe you could read my profile and take from it and from this email what you will. I guess the most important thing I have to say to you concerns the issues raised by my earlier interlocutor - I am a little crazy I guess but I am really enjoying it. I don’t think of myself as dangerous and some how I get the idea I might just be a flavour of crazy you would like.
N
P.S. When I first started to write this I knew full well that it was going to have a copy and paste feel to it that I know women don’t really like. The simple reality is that these things really did happen today and that i really did right this to you – take that for what you will.
Dangerous? Old Country? Fruit pies? WTF?
This is what I'm dealing with, people.
For some reason, I allowed little brother (#2) to talk me into signing up with ANOTHER dating site. It actually wasn't that hard, as Lava and POF have been teeming with idiots and assholes as of late, and I was beyond frustrated.
The new site is well designed (yay!), and free, with lots of compatibility questions to answer. I think it's likely a combination of Plenty of Fish and eHarmony?
Right off the bat, I got an e-mail from this super cute guy. Outdoorsy, tattooed, great smile—my type exactly. He sent me an IM and we were chatting about travel and extreme sports, when he suddenly cut me off to ask me what I was looking for on the site. I informed him that I'm hoping to eventually find something long-term, but I begin with dating and go from there. He seemed happy with that, and then told me he had to be honest, so as not to waste my time.
Those are always scary words in the online dating world.
cuteguy: i'm in an open relationship!
redhead: Yeah, that's not going to work for me. Appreciate the honesty.
cuteguy: no problem…too bad, but understandable
SERIOUSLY? Does that actually work for people?
So, not a great first impression of the site.
Since then I've received a few e-mails, mostly from guys that I rejected on Lava and POF. I think they are hoping I don't remember them, and that they have another shot. The answer is still no.
And then I received the following e-mail, which I can't seem to wrap my head around:
When I got up this morning, I saw you looking at my profile so I pulled up yours. The first words I saw were, in order, "independent, unpredictable, stubborn and ambitious, alternative and passionate". This made me stop reading your profile and get a coffee. When I came back I noticed that a woman had sent me an email saying that she had read my profile and loved the ideas in it but was concerned I might be dangerous. I couldn’t help but think that this was a strange way for a woman to try to meet a man.
In my Old Country, women display their willingness to mate with men by baking them fruit pies. As the men eat the pies with women recite love poetry they have written comparing the torment inherent in being separated from the man in question with the slaughter of our indigenous peoples. While there is no requirement for these poems to be in quatrain iambic pentameter, there is an expectation that the rhyme scheme and structure of the poem follow a set form much like a sonnet in an effort to make the poem a suitable length to cover the time period an average man takes to eat an average pie. I know things are different in Canada yet having a women suggest to me that I might be dangerous seemed better suited to Klingon mating than something between humans.
In any case, I did eventually return to your profile and read it in sentence form rather than just snatching word fragments from the page. I liked the artistic side of you and I appreciate that you like men with a sense of humour although I don’t have one myself.
Anyway, I thought maybe you could read my profile and take from it and from this email what you will. I guess the most important thing I have to say to you concerns the issues raised by my earlier interlocutor - I am a little crazy I guess but I am really enjoying it. I don’t think of myself as dangerous and some how I get the idea I might just be a flavour of crazy you would like.
N
P.S. When I first started to write this I knew full well that it was going to have a copy and paste feel to it that I know women don’t really like. The simple reality is that these things really did happen today and that i really did right this to you – take that for what you will.
Dangerous? Old Country? Fruit pies? WTF?
This is what I'm dealing with, people.
Long Nuit
Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep up a blog when you're working eleven + hours AND commuting for three hours each day? I feel tired. And let's not even talk about how much weight I've put on via stress eating. Ugh.
After Camera Guy and his busy hands/vacuum mouth, I knew I was growing tired of the online dating scene again. It's time consuming, exhausting, and I have to take breaks to keep myself from going crazy. I knew someone would really have to grab my attention in order for me to meet up with them. Enter: Polish Dude.
Polish Dude looked "excellent on paper", as my friend Gyn would say (hi Gyn, love you!). A fellow graphic designer, full head of hair (sorry, Frank), 5'8", average build, cute pictures, good sense of humour. Win! After chatting on MSN, we decided it was time to meet up, and he suggested we attend Nuit Blanche. For those of you who don't live in Toronto, Nuit Blanche is a free all-night (sunset to sunrise) contemporary art event.
I had never been, but I'd heard great things, so I agreed to meet up with him, and found myself waiting nervously at the Eaton Centre on a very cold night in October. He called my cell phone and told me he was waiting just outside the doors, so I took a deep breath, stepped outside, and…5'8" my ass.
We shared an awkward hug, then decided to start wandering down Queen Street West.
There were people EVERYWHERE. I was careful not to lose Polish Dude in the crowds as we walked to Nathan Phillips Square to see a drive-in inspired multimedia installation. Slowly, I took in all the people hanging around giant screens displaying strange shapes and colours, along with sound I could barely hear above the crowd.
"I don't get it," I said to Polish Dude, and he smiled.
We headed back out to the street and continued west, chatting as we walked. I babble when I'm nervous, and he didn't seem to mind, or have much to say.
Another art project: crazy hippies balancing rocks.
"Uh, what the fuck?" I said, as we stopped to watch. One of the hippies started preaching new-age nonsense, and I began to wonder if they were actually part of Nuit Blanche, or had just found a perfect venue for crazy town.
Just then, one of the balancing rocks fell, and I burst out laughing, garnering dirty looks from the hippie and a few people around us. "Oh, come on!" I said loudly, and Polish Dude chuckled beside me. We decided it was time to move on.
More walking. An art project in the form of an awards ceremony, which had been taken over by a bunch of giggling teenage girls requesting awards for each other "for being so cool!"
"Polish Dude, do you have a smoke?" I finally asked.
"Yes. Wait, I thought you cut back?" he replied.
"I did. And now this weird art is making me want one."
He smiled and handed me a cigarette from a black case.
"What brand are these?" I asked.
"Native," he replied, and I made a face.
For the record, Native cigarettes are GROSS. They are über strong, burn fast, and taste like ass. Sigh. Beggars can't be choosers. We stood and smoked, watching a band play on the back of a flatbed truck.
Walking. Rocky Horror Picture Show theatrical production in a window.
Walking. Giant playground in a park. Closed to those who wanted to play monkey for an hour (why? I don't know.)
Walking. Group of strangers sitting at a table. Woman reading poetry, dressed in white.
I was getting tired. We had been walking quite some time, it was late, and my feet were starting to hurt. Polish Dude suggested we stop for food at The Drake Hotel, and I agreed.
We both ordered burgers and fries from the special 'Nuit Blanche' menu, and he asked me questions about my dating history. My first story didn't get much of a reaction out of him, so I switched gears and told him some of my VERY BEST material to get him to loosen up and laugh, but he would simply chuckle and shake his head. It was beyond frustrating, and I had no idea if he even liked me or not.
"Where do you want to go next?" he asked, and I realized it was going to be a very long night with Captain Stoic.
"I dunno," I said, and he handed me the book to look through. I flipped it open and my eyes grew wide. "Omigod!" I squealed, "Lower Bay is OPEN?! We HAVE to go!"
"Okay, but what's Lower Bay?" he asked.
Good question.
Lower Bay is an abandoned subway station in Toronto, situated under Bay Station (Upper Bay). It was used for only six months in 1966, when trains ran along three routes instead of two as part of an 'interlining' experiment. Due to confusion and problems, the experiment was deemed a failure, and Lower Bay was closed to the public.
For years, many Torontonians believed Lower Bay Station was an urban legend, until some urban explorers happened upon it, and then the TTC used it to bypass Upper Bay Station during repairs, and opened it for a number of events, such as Doors Open Toronto, and now, Nuit Blanche. It has also been used to film many commercials and movies. Abandoned buildings and urban exploration have always fascinated me for some reason, and I'd always wanted a chance to see Lower Bay.
"Okay then, let's go," he said.
"It's far. Really far. Like 6 km far," I replied.
"So? We've got all night."
Right. All night. First date. With Mr. Humourless. Awesome.
We left The Drake and headed back east, taking a few shortcuts to avoid the crowds. I asked about his dating history and he informed me that he was just out of a long distance relationship with a 21-year-old. By just, he meant a couple of weeks, and by long distance, he meant ENGLAND.
Sad and confused, he sounded like he was still processing the break-up. Red flag.
When we finally reached Bay Station, it was one o'clock in the morning, and I was TIRED. So much walking, and it was way past my bedtime (stfu, I'm old now). We found the start of the lineup and followed it around the corner onto Cumberland Street. It kept going…and going…and going. We passed a sign that marked a 30 minute wait, and continued walking. We got into line, quite sure that the wait would be at least an hour.
We were running out of things to say and I was getting very cold. My teeth began to chatter, and I rubbed my hands together.
"Give me your hand," he said.
"What?"
"Give me your hand," he repeated, and took my left hand into his. And we stood there. Not talking. Just facing forward and holding hands. SO awkward.
About an hour later, we descended the stairs into Lower Bay Station, which had been transformed into an interactive light show. The platform was crowded with people, and the artist was running around in the dark, yelling at people to clap their hands so the weird fiber light sticks would flicker. For the first time ever on this blog, I'm including a short video (isn't technology grand?) I took that night! You can hear everybody clapping, see me poking at the lights, and listen to our awkward conversation as we tried to figure it out. And then I laugh, because it's all so ridiculous.
Unfortunately, my only glimpses of the subway station came with flash photography, and I left frustrated and unsatisfied.*
Outside, we had a smoke and watched more art: a live performance with sound and light of a 650-tonne billion-year-old chunk of rock glowing red and pulsing like a heart. People, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.
I began to shiver again, and Polish Dude suggested we head to the Starbucks across the street for some hot chocolate to warm up. He refused to let me pay, and we had to sit on the patio outside, as it was crazy crowded inside.
I yawned.
"Tired?" he asked.
"Yes." It was three in the morning, and I was very ready to go home.
"I know you don't accept a ride home on the first date, but I'm hoping you'll make an exception. It's really late, the weirdos are out, and I'd like to make sure you get home okay," he said.
Seven hours later, I was quite sure he wasn't a serial killer, so I accepted his offer. We had a few laughs (okay, I laughed and he chuckled), as we tried to drive through the throngs of people still wandering the downtown core.
At my apartment, I gave him a quick hug, thanked him for a fun night, and got out of the car.
I was completely exhausted as I pulled my Converse sneakers off my aching feet and left a trail of clothes behind me on the way to my bed. In hindsight, Nuit Blanche had been kind of a bad idea. It was simply way too long to spend with someone on a first date. I wasn't sure how I felt about Polish Dude, and I had no clue how he felt about me. I just wanted to sleep.
I managed to sleep off and on until about one in the afternoon, when I moved my ass to the couch to watch some television. My phone buzzed with a text message notification:
Polish Dude: Hope you got lots of sleep and you're not going to get sick from the cold weather last night. I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you and think that you're a cute, funny and smart lady. This was honestly the most enjoyable and easy going date i've ever been on and hope we can do this again soon :)
Well, there was the answer to one of my questions. How did I feel about him? It would take another date to figure it out...
*My family and I have since attended a TTC tour of Lower Bay Station, so now I've seen it with the lights on and I'm satisfied. That's what she said.
After Camera Guy and his busy hands/vacuum mouth, I knew I was growing tired of the online dating scene again. It's time consuming, exhausting, and I have to take breaks to keep myself from going crazy. I knew someone would really have to grab my attention in order for me to meet up with them. Enter: Polish Dude.
Polish Dude looked "excellent on paper", as my friend Gyn would say (hi Gyn, love you!). A fellow graphic designer, full head of hair (sorry, Frank), 5'8", average build, cute pictures, good sense of humour. Win! After chatting on MSN, we decided it was time to meet up, and he suggested we attend Nuit Blanche. For those of you who don't live in Toronto, Nuit Blanche is a free all-night (sunset to sunrise) contemporary art event.
I had never been, but I'd heard great things, so I agreed to meet up with him, and found myself waiting nervously at the Eaton Centre on a very cold night in October. He called my cell phone and told me he was waiting just outside the doors, so I took a deep breath, stepped outside, and…5'8" my ass.
We shared an awkward hug, then decided to start wandering down Queen Street West.
There were people EVERYWHERE. I was careful not to lose Polish Dude in the crowds as we walked to Nathan Phillips Square to see a drive-in inspired multimedia installation. Slowly, I took in all the people hanging around giant screens displaying strange shapes and colours, along with sound I could barely hear above the crowd.
"I don't get it," I said to Polish Dude, and he smiled.
We headed back out to the street and continued west, chatting as we walked. I babble when I'm nervous, and he didn't seem to mind, or have much to say.
Another art project: crazy hippies balancing rocks.
"Uh, what the fuck?" I said, as we stopped to watch. One of the hippies started preaching new-age nonsense, and I began to wonder if they were actually part of Nuit Blanche, or had just found a perfect venue for crazy town.
Just then, one of the balancing rocks fell, and I burst out laughing, garnering dirty looks from the hippie and a few people around us. "Oh, come on!" I said loudly, and Polish Dude chuckled beside me. We decided it was time to move on.
More walking. An art project in the form of an awards ceremony, which had been taken over by a bunch of giggling teenage girls requesting awards for each other "for being so cool!"
"Polish Dude, do you have a smoke?" I finally asked.
"Yes. Wait, I thought you cut back?" he replied.
"I did. And now this weird art is making me want one."
He smiled and handed me a cigarette from a black case.
"What brand are these?" I asked.
"Native," he replied, and I made a face.
For the record, Native cigarettes are GROSS. They are über strong, burn fast, and taste like ass. Sigh. Beggars can't be choosers. We stood and smoked, watching a band play on the back of a flatbed truck.
Walking. Rocky Horror Picture Show theatrical production in a window.
Walking. Giant playground in a park. Closed to those who wanted to play monkey for an hour (why? I don't know.)
Walking. Group of strangers sitting at a table. Woman reading poetry, dressed in white.
I was getting tired. We had been walking quite some time, it was late, and my feet were starting to hurt. Polish Dude suggested we stop for food at The Drake Hotel, and I agreed.
We both ordered burgers and fries from the special 'Nuit Blanche' menu, and he asked me questions about my dating history. My first story didn't get much of a reaction out of him, so I switched gears and told him some of my VERY BEST material to get him to loosen up and laugh, but he would simply chuckle and shake his head. It was beyond frustrating, and I had no idea if he even liked me or not.
"Where do you want to go next?" he asked, and I realized it was going to be a very long night with Captain Stoic.
"I dunno," I said, and he handed me the book to look through. I flipped it open and my eyes grew wide. "Omigod!" I squealed, "Lower Bay is OPEN?! We HAVE to go!"
"Okay, but what's Lower Bay?" he asked.
Good question.
Lower Bay is an abandoned subway station in Toronto, situated under Bay Station (Upper Bay). It was used for only six months in 1966, when trains ran along three routes instead of two as part of an 'interlining' experiment. Due to confusion and problems, the experiment was deemed a failure, and Lower Bay was closed to the public.
For years, many Torontonians believed Lower Bay Station was an urban legend, until some urban explorers happened upon it, and then the TTC used it to bypass Upper Bay Station during repairs, and opened it for a number of events, such as Doors Open Toronto, and now, Nuit Blanche. It has also been used to film many commercials and movies. Abandoned buildings and urban exploration have always fascinated me for some reason, and I'd always wanted a chance to see Lower Bay.
"Okay then, let's go," he said.
"It's far. Really far. Like 6 km far," I replied.
"So? We've got all night."
Right. All night. First date. With Mr. Humourless. Awesome.
We left The Drake and headed back east, taking a few shortcuts to avoid the crowds. I asked about his dating history and he informed me that he was just out of a long distance relationship with a 21-year-old. By just, he meant a couple of weeks, and by long distance, he meant ENGLAND.
Sad and confused, he sounded like he was still processing the break-up. Red flag.
When we finally reached Bay Station, it was one o'clock in the morning, and I was TIRED. So much walking, and it was way past my bedtime (stfu, I'm old now). We found the start of the lineup and followed it around the corner onto Cumberland Street. It kept going…and going…and going. We passed a sign that marked a 30 minute wait, and continued walking. We got into line, quite sure that the wait would be at least an hour.
We were running out of things to say and I was getting very cold. My teeth began to chatter, and I rubbed my hands together.
"Give me your hand," he said.
"What?"
"Give me your hand," he repeated, and took my left hand into his. And we stood there. Not talking. Just facing forward and holding hands. SO awkward.
About an hour later, we descended the stairs into Lower Bay Station, which had been transformed into an interactive light show. The platform was crowded with people, and the artist was running around in the dark, yelling at people to clap their hands so the weird fiber light sticks would flicker. For the first time ever on this blog, I'm including a short video (isn't technology grand?) I took that night! You can hear everybody clapping, see me poking at the lights, and listen to our awkward conversation as we tried to figure it out. And then I laugh, because it's all so ridiculous.
Unfortunately, my only glimpses of the subway station came with flash photography, and I left frustrated and unsatisfied.*
Outside, we had a smoke and watched more art: a live performance with sound and light of a 650-tonne billion-year-old chunk of rock glowing red and pulsing like a heart. People, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.
I began to shiver again, and Polish Dude suggested we head to the Starbucks across the street for some hot chocolate to warm up. He refused to let me pay, and we had to sit on the patio outside, as it was crazy crowded inside.
I yawned.
"Tired?" he asked.
"Yes." It was three in the morning, and I was very ready to go home.
"I know you don't accept a ride home on the first date, but I'm hoping you'll make an exception. It's really late, the weirdos are out, and I'd like to make sure you get home okay," he said.
Seven hours later, I was quite sure he wasn't a serial killer, so I accepted his offer. We had a few laughs (okay, I laughed and he chuckled), as we tried to drive through the throngs of people still wandering the downtown core.
At my apartment, I gave him a quick hug, thanked him for a fun night, and got out of the car.
I was completely exhausted as I pulled my Converse sneakers off my aching feet and left a trail of clothes behind me on the way to my bed. In hindsight, Nuit Blanche had been kind of a bad idea. It was simply way too long to spend with someone on a first date. I wasn't sure how I felt about Polish Dude, and I had no clue how he felt about me. I just wanted to sleep.
I managed to sleep off and on until about one in the afternoon, when I moved my ass to the couch to watch some television. My phone buzzed with a text message notification:
Polish Dude: Hope you got lots of sleep and you're not going to get sick from the cold weather last night. I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you and think that you're a cute, funny and smart lady. This was honestly the most enjoyable and easy going date i've ever been on and hope we can do this again soon :)
Well, there was the answer to one of my questions. How did I feel about him? It would take another date to figure it out...
*My family and I have since attended a TTC tour of Lower Bay Station, so now I've seen it with the lights on and I'm satisfied. That's what she said.
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