The Juggler

Sorry people, this tale of the Juggler has taken me quite some time to write!

Ah, the Juggler.

I signed up with Date.ca, as Lavalife and Plenty of Fish had only produced losers and assholes. The Juggler was one of the first people to send me a 'flirt' (vomit) and I sent one back (double vomit). We started talking on MSN and that's when I asked him what he did for a living, and he told me that he was a comedic juggler. Yes, the Juggler traveled around Ontario, putting on corporate shows and preforming at festivals. He could juggle, ride a unicycle, a tiny bicycle (I'm talking fit in your hand tiny), and do all these crazy balancing acts. I found it hard to believe that someone could do something like this for a living, without any supplemental income, but he told me that he loved what he did and did well at it. He lived on his own for god's sakes, which was more than I could say for most of the guys I'd met. I gave the Juggler the benefit of the doubt and agreed to meet him for dinner.

Date #1
I met the Juggler at Davisville station (he was NOT EVEN CLOSE to as cute as he was in his pictures...in the pics, his hair was all gelled and funky...in person, it was all frizzy and poufy...and he was really tall and skinny) and we took the subway down to Union, then walked to Casey's on Front St. We had dinner and it went very well. However, one of our conversations that night will go down in history as the funniest thing I've ever heard on a date. He was showing me his injured finger and telling me how he caught it in a rat trap.

I stopped him and said, "Wait, what were you doing with rat traps?"

He got this sheepish look on his face, hung his head and said, "Uhm....I was juggling them."

I couldn't stop laughing for like ten minutes. I told him that I was going to periodically throw random things at him and he had to start juggling them.

It was a good date and we ended up going for drinks at a Firkin after dinner. We got along really well and he had a good sense of humour. The only odd part of the night was when we were on our way to the bar, passing by this old building with a metal fence around it. He told me to hold on for a second, and he walked over to the fence and started feeling around behind it. I was standing there, watching him with a very puzzled look on my face and thinking that maybe he was part of some crazy government conspiracy or thought the aliens were coming to get him or something, and maybe it was time for me to go. He walked back over to me and continued down the street. I wondered if maybe it was better if I didn't know, but I was too curious and said,

"Uhm, why were you feeling up the fence?"

Him, "What?"

Me, "Feeling up. Groping. Getting friendly with. The fence. You. Why?"

Him, "Oh (laughing), it's this stupid thing I do," and then he proceeded to tell me about geocaching (see below).

What is Geocaching?
Geocaching is an entertaining adventure game for gps users. Participating in a cache hunt is a good way to take advantage of the wonderful features and capability of a gps unit. The basic idea is to have individuals and organizations set up caches all over the world and share the locations of these caches on the internet. GPS users can then use the location coordinates to find the caches. Once found, a cache may provide the visitor with a wide variety of rewards. All the visitor is asked to do is if they get something they should try to leave something for the cache.

I had never heard of such a thing before and I was fascinated (okay, just because I don't wear the huge mother glasses anymore, doesn't mean I don't retain some nerd qualities!) and wanted to play the game too, dammit.

After drinks, we took the subway back to Davisville where his van was parked. Lo and behold, the van was jam-packed with all sorts of juggling paraphernalia and such. He even had a fancy painted trunk, like Mr. Dressup! This boy was odd...I liked him. He drove me to my place and gave me this really quick grandma kiss on the lips. We agreed to go out again, which was lousy timing since I was about to go away for over a week for Christmas.

Date #2
The Juggler called and said he wanted to see me before I went away, so I agreed to a date on a weeknight. Since I didn't think the comedic juggler was a serial killer by night, I allowed him to pick me up at work. We had been trying to come up with an idea for a date that would be a little abnormal, as we were both tired of the dinner and a movie scene. When I got in the van, he suggested going to Woodbine Racetrack to play some slot machines and bet on horses. I was so excited - I'd never done either in my life!

We decided to go for dinner at J.J. Muggs at Woodbine Mall first. I hadn't been to J.J. Muggs in a long time, and I noticed the place had become rather...what's the word...ghetto? They cleaned the table AFTER we sat down and the other patrons made me question whether or not I should be eating the food. I saw a man that looked like a homeless Santa Claus, and I told the Juggler I was going to go sit on his lap and tell him I wanted a pony for Christmas.

Neither of us finished our food, and when I offered to pay this time, the Juggler did not put up a fight.

Upon our arrival at Woodbine Racetrack, it quickly became evident that I sucked at gambling. As keeper of the coins at the casino, I should have been fired, because they sure didn't stay in the bucket very long :-/ Watching the horse races was much more entertaining, and I was as fascinated by the people betting on the horses as I was by the horses themselves. The place was bursting with testosterone and I couldn't stop laughing at the comb-overs and the guys screaming at the television screens while slapping their thighs with rolled-up race programs. We bet on a few races and really didn't win much, but had some good laughs while people-watching. When it came time for the final race, the Juggler asked me to pick a horse, so I decided we should bet on "Insurance Fee" to win. The Juggler only wanted to bet two dollars, but I said it was go big or go home time, and we should bet ten...or twenty! He looked at me like I'd lost my mind, got up, and bet five dollars. Easy there, big spender. Guess what horse won? Booyah! Twenty-five dollars, bitches! We decided to spend the money on drinks at my local Firkin, where we had great conversation and then he drove me home (but didn't kiss me because he was getting over a cold).

Following this date, I had to go visit the Fam for Christmas, and was gone for over a week. The Juggler and I spoke on a semi-daily basis, and our conversations would go on forever. I discovered that he had had an ongoing fuck-buddy relationship with his ex-girlfriend, but had put an end to it because he was interested in pursuing a relationship with me. Hum...interesting.

Date #3
We planned this date to start in the afternoon, as I had taken off a couple days after New Year's. His van had broken down, so he borrowed his mom's car for the day. The Juggler arrived at my place, and we sat in my livingroom and talked for awhile. I wouldn't exactly say that the Juggler was stupid, but I was really starting to notice things, like the fact that dude had some trouble stringing words together. He was always pausing in the middle of a sentence, like he had to think really hard about what he wanted to say. There were also a lot of comments about money, and I was starting to realize that he was extremely tight with his. NFG.

First on the agenda was some geocaching! One was hidden at a park that I used to work at, so we used his gps thingy to direct us through all these paths in the woods until we reached a bridge. There was snow on the ground and I was in a skirt, but I was climbing down beside the bridge, hunting for the damn thing. The Juggler found the container - it was filled with stickers and keychains and such, and a notebook to sign. Since we had nothing to leave, the Juggler just signed the book for us while I kept lookout (you're supposed to be very secretive about this geocaching stuff).

We walked back to the car and went for dinner at The Rainforest Cafe (wooOOoooOO ghetto!). A cute waiter took us to our table and flirted with me while pulling out my chair. The Juggler was offended that he was being shown up by a kid who probably wasn't even done high school yet. Under the stars, amidst the occasional thunderstorms, with gorillas grunting and chest-pounding, our eyes meeting over the glare of the shiny parrot-and-greenery patterned formica table, I started to wonder how much I actually liked the Juggler. He was a nice guy, but where was his life going? What happened when he was old and arthritic and couldn't hop on that unicycle anymore?

Pushing these thoughts out of my head, we finished dinner and made our way to Putting Edge, where I fully intended to kick his ass at glow-in-the-dark mini-putt. However, my technique of brute force kinda sorta backfired on me, and my score was less than Tiger Woodsy. At the final hole, you are supposed to 'tap' the ball into the ball return, but I took a huge swing and the ball went flying, cracking off the metal frame and making a horrible noise. Everyone was looking at me and I was laughing my ass off, while the Juggler tried to fade into the background, face red with shame. For a preformer, he sure seemed to embarass easily!

After leaving the mini-putt place, we walked across the parkinglot to McDonald's for some ice cream sundaes and tried to figure out what to do next. We decided to go back to my place and watch Old School (he'd never seen it - *gasp!*). This is when a major problem arose: the Juggler was allergic to cats :-/ He wouldn't touch Willow and acted like she was going to claw his eyes out if she went near him. I had to lock my poor Willow up, and it's not exactly easy to be romantic when my kid is freaking out in my room, digging at the door and meowing her little head off. I was growing concerned, because the cat thing is a major issue with me. She is my kid and I would throw myself in front of a moving vehicle to protect her. She sleeps wrapped around my head. I love her unconditionally, and if it came down to a guy or her, she stays and he goes, period. I make it VERY clear in my profiles that the guy MUST love animals, especially cats.

However, I also felt it was too soon to make a quick decision, so we ended up making out on my couch ;) It was alright...he wasn't the greatest kisser on the planet, and his asthma started acting up because of the cat, so he was breathing weird. It was hot :-/

He called me the next day...and the day after that...and the day after that... His job left him with a LOT of spare time, and he needed to speak to me on a daily basis. I find this smothering and unnecessary. He grew less and less understanding of my demanding work schedule, and became cranky if I made plans with friends instead of him.

Date #4
I agreed to have dinner with him one night, although I was starting to have my reservations about the whole thing. We went to the Pickle Barrel at Yonge & Eglinton, where he ordered one of the most expensive things on the menu, and I knew he was expecting me to pay this time. We talked, but I noticed that the conversation was becoming very forced (on my part, anyways) and I was thinking that the Juggler and I were fast approaching the end of the circus tour. I was starting to realize exactly how cheap he was: he had never been to the Mandarin because it was "too expensive" and got upset when he bought a coffee and wasn't able to finish it, because it was a waste of money. He would buy things used before he bought them new. He wouldn't live in Toronto because of the high cost of living. I offered to pay for dinner and he lit up like an effing Christmas tree. I was unimpressed.

Back at my place (we walked to the restaurant and back - it's cheaper!) he followed me into my room where I hung up my jacket and put my purse down. Then he followed me into the washroom while I washed my hands. Then he followed me back into the livingroom, sat down beside me and leaned over to kiss me. I had nowhere to go and kept it short, hoping he would take the hint. Instead, he slobbered all over my mouth and his breath sucked and he got kinda excited (if you know what I mean) and started breathing funny (sorry, don't know how else to describe it) over a bit of kissing. It was...a little weird. I kept telling him I was tired, but he seemed to be in no rush to leave. Finally I had to tell him that I had to go to bed, so he had to leave. He hugged me and wouldn't let go and I was beyond irritated at this point. I got him out the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

The Juggler proceeded to call me each and every night after that date, and I really had no idea how to let him down easy. Things at work were insane, so I had no time for anyone, nevermind him.

My boss was asking me how things were going and if I'd slept with him. I told her that NO, I most certainly had NOT slept with him, and I was worried what it would be like if I did.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well...you know that episode of Sex and the City, where Charlotte is getting married and Carrie -"

"THE JACKRABBIT!" she yelled.

Do NOT ask me how she guessed it that quickly, but yes, I imagined sex with the Juggler would be like having sex with the jackrabbit. Actually, I'd already experienced the jackrabbit sex with one of my exes (that's a story for another day) and had no intentions of ever suffering through such a thing again.

Date #5
After a couple weeks of work insanity, I had a lapse in judgement, thought that maybe I'd been too rash, and agreed to have dinner with him again. I informed all my friends that this was his last chance. I told the Juggler that dinner had to be quick, as I had to get home to do work to meet deadlines, so he couldn't hang out at my place afterwards. He agreed, picked me up at work and we went to Jack Astor's. We had fun drawing socks all over the table, but I was feeling no chemistry at all. I ordered my usual - chicken parmesan bowties and he ordered jambalaya. When I was almost done my plate, I realized that he had only picked at his food, and I asked him what was wrong with his dinner. He told me that it was too salty, and told this to the waiter when he ca back for our plates. When the waiter returned with the bill, he informed the Juggler that he had taken his dinner off the bill. The waiter walked away and the Juggler looked at me, smiled and said, "Great! Now I only have to pay for one dinner!"


He drove me home and I launched myself out of the van after a quick grandma kiss.
It was time to deflate the big top. I needed an 'out', and little did I know that one would present itself, and quickly.

Angie and I had made plans to go out the following Saturday night, but I told him I was going to be staying home and working, because I didn't want to listen to the whining. Just after she arrived at my place and we were already well into the margarita mix, the Juggler called. I told him I was busy and would call him back. Angie and I went to the Phoenix and I drank WAY too much and ended up praying to the porcelain gods all night AND the next morning, which was very rare for me.

When the room stopped spinning sometime late the next afternoon, I was finally able to go on MSN. The following conversation occured:

Juggler says: What happened to you last night? It was just pretty shitty that i called, you said youd call right back...and no dice...

Redhead says: Angie showed up and I completely forgot, I'm sorry.

Juggler says: well perhaps we are on a different page.

Redhead says: People don't call me back all the time...it's no big deal. People get busy. I guess I'm more laid back about stuff like that. I'm getting the impression that you need to be with someone who has a lot more free time than I do.

Juggler says: its not about time, i think your heart isnt in this at all... "i forgot.."???

Redhead says: My friend was here. We were talking, and I forgot. That's happened to me tons of times before, and nobody has ever gotten upset about it.

Juggler says: we just had a conversation a few weeks ago about the same situation and you said how you would never do that... i dont know maybe im wrong...

Redhead says: We were talking about standing people up. If I don’t return a call, it's not on purpose. Things come up - I had a friend at my place. I'm not really sure what else you want me to say.

Juggler says: you think now might be a good time to return that call?

Redhead says: Actually, no. I'm eating soup and i'm really sick and now I'm in a rotten mood.

Juggler says: are you at all concerned that im upset?

Redhead says:You are being overdramatic.

Juggler says: im starting to see how little you care for me...overdramatic sure...

Redhead says:It's a phone call! If I got "upset" every time someone didn't return a call...well I'd be upset all the time. This is ridiculous.

Juggler says:yeah, your right.

Juggler says:im really trying not to be dramatic about this, but with that in mind, if you are interested in working this out, please call me some time tonight....

Interested in working this out? With Cheapy the Juggling Asthma Case? Fuck no!

For the rest of the night, he would send me messages saying that he couldn't stand sitting there and waiting to see if I would call him, so would I PLEASE call to work this out? I ignored him until his messages got really annoying, then I blocked him. The following day he sent me this e-mail:

Well I guess that this is the"ignore him for a couple of days" kiss of death that Ive heard so much about. I had just hoped that we could be friendlier about it, but it just doesnt seem to be in the cards... Anyway Ill talk to you anytime you feel like calling, cause I like you...alot.
Hope your feeling better.

The Juggler

On my birthday:

happy birthday, all the best,

The Juggler

And about two weeks later:

Find anything intersting online recently? I just find it perplexing that you keep looking at my profile. Oh well, as Im sure you wont reply to this...Ill never know. All the best...

The Juggler

For the record, the only reason I looked at his profile was because I had to delete him from my list. And that was the last I heard from him.

And now to bring you up to date: I'm running out of tales of online dating, so I'm thinking that I'll just go back and tell the stories of my ex-boyfriends. Those who know me know that those are good stories! I have had the worst dating history EVER.

The good news? I'm going speed dating again - May 4th! Well, good for you faithful readers, bad for me, because I have to deal with 15 horrible dates in one evening. Sigh. The things I do for my blog fans :)


  1. Anonymous2:15 PM

    Send this guy on a juggling tour far far away and forever!

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  3. Anonymous10:12 AM

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  4. Anonymous7:39 AM

    You don't work at the Pickle Barrel by any chance do you?

  5. Nope, never. Why?

  6. Anonymous7:52 AM

    Just wondering. There's a beautiful woman who works or used to work there. Thought it might be you. :)