Onion Breath

In the interest of not jinxing things with the new guy (I'm superstitious - thanks mom!), I've decided to avoid discussing my latest date. It seems that if I talk about a guy too much, things tend to go downhill quickly, so I'm just going to continue my adventures in dating land, B.B. (Before Blog).

So following James, this cute guy sent me a smile on Lava. His profile mentioned that he was artistic and creative, was in a couple bands, was owner/founder of his own business, superintendent for a building built for musicians, and taught guitar to kids. SCORE! Band boys are my kryptonite and I should have known better. Sigh. So I sent Band Boy a smile back, and about a week later, he sent me an e-mail:

Hello, how are you? I got some credits, finally, so that I could message you. I like that you're an artistic person and from the way you typed your profile you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders, the picture proves how pretty it is :P I'd definitely like to get to know you better. Hopefully you'd like that too. If you decide to message me back you can ask me any questions you'd like to, I'll answer anything. Hopefully we'll talk soon :)

Well he passed the first test - he could spell. A musician who could spell? This was too good to be true! So after a few e-mails, we started talking on MSN. A lot. For hours and hours. We had tons in common and our conversations would just go on forever. He had just joined Lava and had never met anyone online before, so he took things very slow. He sent me the link to his Live Journal page, where he posted lyrics, art, music and poetry, along with pictures of himself. The pictures sent up the first red flag - he was cute, but seemed to do odd things with his hair, like shave his head bald except for a patch of long hair at the top of his head, which he would super gel down the front of this face :-/ However, his most recent pictures were minus the strange, greasy hair face triangle, so I continued to talk to him and figured I would cross that bridge (with a pair of scissors) if and when I came to it.

Band Boy invited me to go and watch his band play one Saturday night, and Stef agreed to join me. We headed down to Clinton's on Bloor and into this sketchy little back room, where Stef took a seat facing the room and I took a seat facing the mirrored wall, so I could observe the room and not be obvious about it. I noticed Band Boy almost immediately, sitting in a back corner with a red shirt and backwards baseball cap. He seemed hot, but it was hard to tell because the room was so bloody dark. He didn't appear to be looking for me or anything, and didn't even notice us as we went out for a smoke. Back inside, band #1 took the stage, and I shall forever remember them as "The Screaming Lesbians". They were big and scary and I had visions of them tying me up and calling me "Bitch", and not in the hot way. After the lesbians were done screaming about politics and such, Stef and I decided it was time for a washroom break, got up from the table, walked to the door, opened it - and I almost crashed into Band Boy. We looked at each other and said our hellos, gave each other a quick hug, and he apologized for not being able to come over and talk to me, but he hoped to get a chance at the end of the show. Then he warned us that there was a guy practising his vocals downstairs, and it was kinda funny. Then he laughed, and red flag number two went up. It was this very odd, high-pitched, completely out of place laugh that sounded like it should come from someone going through puberty. We went downstairs to the washrooms, where this long-haired dude straight out of a 70's hair metal band was doing the strangest vocal acrobatics I'd ever heard. Stef was singing along and I was trying to keep my composure while hovering over one of the sketchiest toilets I'd seen in years (and I've been camping).

Hair metal and his band of merry idiots took the stage, and Stef and I had a hard time controlling our laughter. Hair metal wouldn't stop checking himself out in the mirror while singing, and how he managed to wedge himself into a pair of pants that tight was beyond me.

It was getting late, and Stef and I were exhausted (my ears were still ringing from the lesbians) but we had to stay for Band Boy's preformance. Finally his band took the stage and the white trash crowd went wild. The lead singer was this big black guy who seemed pretty cool, and the bass player was actually kinda cute. We couldn't see much of Band Boy, because he was playing drums in the back. After the first song, Band Boy gets up and takes his shirt off. He was one white ass mother fucker, rather skinny, with a really stupid looking tattoo of a hand-drawn eye and all these swirly things across his shoulder and chest (and by the way, if he was 5'11", I was 7'2"). Stef and I stayed until his band was done, and then slipped out, since he was busy talking to people and taking down his set.

It never ceases to amaze me how you can have a great connection with someone online, or even on the phone, but it can all add up to nothing when you meet someone in person (Band Boy, in fact, taught me that it's better to meet people sooner than later). Even though I hadn't felt any sort of chemistry when we met, we had only talked for a second, and I agreed to go on a date with him the following week.

I met Band Boy at the Eaton Centre at 8. We walked down Queen St. for awhile until I asked him where we were going and he said the movie theatre and I realized we had gone WAY too far for the movie theatre, so we had to turn around and go back. We got our tickets for Harry Potter at Paramount and had about 45 minutes until the movie started and he hadn't had dinner, so we went to Chicago's (where I had my first date with Toph...UGH) and he ordered a burger. We sat there in a silence that brought a whole new meaning to 'awkward'. He was really the only one keeping any conversation going and by this point his irritating laugh was making me want to ram sharp things in my ears :-\ He started telling me more about himself and his family. For example, his dad is a crackhead. Literally. In and out of rehab every few years. Some things are better left unsaid...or at least withheld until the third or fouth date. His food took forever to come and then we were in such a rush that he scarfed it down...and I mean INHALED...and they hadn't brought him a fork so he used the toothpick from his burger for his fries. I sat there in complete silence while he ate.

So back to the theatre and thank god for half an hour of previews, so we didn't miss anything (we were about ten minutes late). He took off his hat and I think his head was completely shaved, but I was scared to really try and look and it was so dark. I was sitting there thinking he wasn't passing the thigh test and he was too skinny and bald (plus the really puffy 'gangsta thug' jacket didn't help matters). So he kept laughing at stuff and I just wanted to stab him with something...it was such a horrible laugh, and I knew the whole theatre could hear him.

Harry Potter was SO amazingly good and I was completely involved in it when he turned to me and said, "So, you like it? I mean, this far anyways?" and I almost gagged because I got this nasty whiff of his breath, which stunk like the giant load of onions he had on his burger.

I just nodded and said, "Yeah."

Movie finished and I loved it and then I had to listen to onion breath talk more about the building he had just moved into while we walked down Queen St. This is what was going through my head: Okay, he's superintendent for that building for musicians and teaches guitar to kids for Parks & Rec (I used to work for Parks & Rec, and I know they don't pay well). He wants to start teaching private guitar lessons as well. So the superintendent job means he doesn't have to pay rent, so he's thinking of getting a crap convenience store job or something to save up money for a house. He wants to get married and have kids. Does this sound like he makes a very decent living? I don't think so. Plus when he gets a house, he'll move out of that building and won't be superintendent anymore...so how will he make ends meet? Especially with kids? I don't want to be with anyone that doesn't have a completely stable future, especially when my life is very on-track. I was just picturing me busting my ass as a graphic designer all day, and then going to visit my boyfriend, Band Boy, at the local Hasty Nasty Market, sharing one of those turny hot dogs for dinner and then having a quick make-out session in the dairy section before he had to return to mopping the floors and stocking toilet paper. It was time to run.

Band Boy walked me down to the subway and I was fumbling for change thinking 1) I can't believe this guy is just going to let me take the subway home alone at 12:30 at night and 2) Pleasedon'tkissmepleasedon'tkissmepleasedon'tkissme! So he gave me a big hug and wouldn't let fucking go and I said, "Uhm, I had a good time, thanks!" and he started going on about how we had to do it again soon and let him know when I'm free and blah blah and he let go and I don't know if he was going to try to kiss me, but I pulled the classic duck-and-twist-and-out (which I have mastered at this point). Wasn't taking any chances. So I got on the subway and headed home, wondering what I had done to deserve this unbelivable string of bad luck.

The next morning, I received the following e-mail:

Just wanted to let you know that I had a great time being with you last night and I hope you got home safe :)

How is it that two people can have such opposing views of the same date?! It baffles me. He called, he e-mailed, he messaged, and I ignored (Frank says I'm 51% male). I just never know how to let these guys down easy, although the see-ya-later-sucka e-mail I sent to the lawyer is the new template, and I plan to use it from now on.

So eventually, Band Boy went away and peace ruled the land once again...until I met The Juggler...

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