3.07.2012

Meet the Asshole

My sincere apologies for the delay in this post. I kept putting it off, and suddenly, I realized why: when I write these stories out, I use my excellent memory for small details, and I review old e-mails and MSN conversations. I essentially have to re-live what happened all over again, and in some cases, it can be very difficult and very sad. So bear with me as I tell this story, as it won’t be easy for me (and unfortunately, it will be followed up with a story about “Scooter” that I absolutely dread writing.) However, putting these stories on paper (okay, not really, but you get what I mean), is also closure and therapy for me, so let’s do this…

Oh, the ex. He is known to everyone as “Asshole”. Seriously. Even my mom and dad call him Asshole. People have actually asked me, “What was Asshole’s real name again?”

This will take a few posts.

Flashback: late summer 2006. I was lying in bed with a terrible sunburn on my legs (wear sunscreen always, kids!), thinking about dating, and how completely sick of it I was. For two years, it had been nothing but assholes (ha, the irony), clingers, and idiots. Not to mention expensive, since the majority of guys these days don’t like to pay for a first date, even if THEY asked ME out.

As I surfed through a bunch of random profiles, I told myself that someone would have to REALLY grab my attention in order for me to go on a date with them. Enter: Asshole. In his profile picture, he was tall, blond, drinking a beer, and wearing a wide leather Nixon watch at a concert. His write-up wasn’t half bad either:

Every song has meaning to someone. I love music, but can only play my stereo and iPod, and I DJ too. I'm trying to learn guitar, but sadly lack the discipline to practice every day until my fingers hurt. I really LOVE checking out all of the live music venues Toronto has to offer. Many of my friends are in local bands, so I get constant recommendations of shows to go see.

Currently listening to Stars, Deadboy & the Elephantmen, Magnetic Fields, She Wants Revenge, Inward Eye, the Walkmen, Bloc Party, Death From Above 1979, the Russian Futurists, TV on the Radio, and too many more to list.

I can't stand television in general and do not have cable, but I'll rent entire seasons of shows from Queen Video, and movies too. Zombie movies are the ultimate - slow zombies are preferred, but damn the fast ones are scary!

I live with my dog, or rather, with his bad habits, which are easy to overlook due to his charm and personality - dare I say two traits he learned from me. I think loyalty is on that list too. Oh yeah, and love of cookies. I don't drool (as much) though.

I've been teaching elementary school this year, so I'm good with kids, and have a valid police record check to boot. So, yeah, I'm a decent guy I think. I can also provide reference letters from several 2nd, 3rd and 4th graders, but I must confess, they were bribed with no homework and extra art lessons.

Want to know more? Drop me a line or smile.


I sent him a smile, and he sent one back. This posed a problem, as online dating etiquette meant that it was my turn to send him an e-mail, and I had exactly zero Lavalife credits. I debated for a day and then, for the first time in my online dating history, I sucked it up and spent $14.99 for 50 credits.

After a bunch of e-mails back and forth, I knew that Asshole was a divorcĂ© (no kids), DJ’d at a bar in his neighbourhood, had two brothers and a sister, and following his divorce, quit a good job and went back to school to fulfill his dream of becoming a teacher.

For our first date, Asshole and I decided to meet up at Scallywags at Yonge and St. Clair on a Tuesday night. Choosing a seat facing the door on the patio, I ordered a drink and waited for my date to arrive. When he finally appeared at the door, his ear-to-ear grin made me forget that he was really late.

Asshole sat in the chair across from me and we spent the next few hours talking about anything and everything. It was a comfortable and fun date, like we’d known each other forever.

After paying our respective shares of the bill (ugh, why didn’t I just run then?), Asshole walked me to the subway station, where he leaned in to kiss me goodbye. I’ll admit, it was a very good kiss and for a moment, the world around us paused briefly.

He pulled back and said, “You’re a really good kisser.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I like you,” he smiled.

“I like you back.”

I hopped on the subway and headed home, happy and excited about someone new for the first time in a very long time.

The next day, Asshole asked me if I wanted to go out with him the following Saturday, and we decided to make it an afternoon date and go for a walk in Kensington Market.

Asshole’s apartment was in the Annex area of Toronto, and I arrived just before lunch. He asked me to come up, and after climbing two sets of very steep stairs (he lived above a Japanese restaurant), I knocked on the door and could hear loud scrambling inside. Asshole opened the door while holding onto his VERY large (half Labrador Retriever, half Rhodesian Ridgeback) and very excited dog, Cooper.

Once Cooper calmed down, he was let go and allowed to check me out. Admittedly, I’ve never been much of a dog person, but Cooper seemed happy and lovable.

Asshole and I left his apartment and headed for Kensington Market. It was a cool autumn day, and I remember a number of awkward silences in our conversation.

He pointed out a thrift clothing store he wanted to check out, and we headed inside. After perusing the men’s band t-shirts, we hunted for the strangest things we could find, and held them up for a laugh. I saw him reaching for leather pants, and it was too late for me to stop him—they were assless chaps. He dropped them like a hot potato with a horrified look on his face, and I had to hold onto a rack because I was laughing so hard.

“Why didn’t you warn me?!” he asked.

“Because,” I gasped, holding my stomach, “I didn’t realize until it was too late!”

“They were USED!”

“I know!”

He started to laugh too, and as we left the store, he grabbed my hand. Apparently, used assless chaps had shifted us into a more comfortable place.

Asshole and I found a pub and sat on the patio. He ordered a beer and I ordered a vodka cranberry. I was in the middle of telling a story when I noticed something that would bother me throughout the course of our relationship; he had a terrible wandering eye, and when that happened, he stopped listening to what I was saying.

“Huh?” he said, bringing his attention back to me, after staring at a couple of hot blondes who walked past our table.

“Nothing. Forget it,” I replied.

“No, what were you saying?”

Sigh.

After ordering some food and checking out a few more stores, we headed back to Asshole’s apartment to grab Cooper and go for a walk.

“I had fun,” I said.

“Me too. Hey, are you free Tuesday night?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m free.”

“Then I’m going to make you dinner at my place,” he smiled, and gave me a kiss goodbye at the subway station.

Even though we had just seen each other, Asshole and I spent time talking on MSN and then the phone later that night; we never seemed to run out of things to say to each other, and it had been a very long time since I’d had that with someone.

Tuesday night, I arrived at his apartment after work. He threw the door open and wrapped his arms around me in a giant hug while Cooper ran around us excitedly. It was a warm night and the balcony door was open. His kitchen smelled amazing.

“Wow!” I said, “What are we having?”

“Spaghetti,” he said, opening a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses.

“Uhm, I’m not a huge fan of wine,” I wrinkled my nose.

“Oh, you will be!” he said, handing me a glass, “Have a seat and relax while I finish cooking.”

I will admit, the more wine I drank, the more I liked it. I sat on the stairs and we chatted about our days until dinner was ready.

“Wait here,” he said, stepping past me onto the balcony, and then called me out a minute later.

I stepped onto the balcony and my jaw dropped. He had set a picnic table with a red and white checkered tablecloth and cutlery, and lit up the space with Christmas lights. It was really sweet and really romantic. I took a seat and he brought out our heaping plates of spaghetti.

We laughed and talked while we ate our dinners, and sunset turned to dusk. I realized that I really liked this guy. He was cute, funny, sweet, and making a really big effort with me.

As I stood up to take our dishes in, he came around to my side of the table and wrapped his arms around me again.

“I have to say something,” he said.

“Okay?” I replied.

“You…you’re not like any girl I’ve ever met. You’re beautiful and you’re funny and you’re smart. Falling for you is like a drop-kick to the stomach; it happens fast and it happens hard. I know this is soon. Way too soon. And I don’t want to scare you away, but I need to say it because it’s the truth. I love you.”

For a second, cold fear dripped down my spine and I couldn’t breathe, and then I said what I felt I HAD to say, because how do you NOT lie in a moment like that to a guy you really like?

“I…love you too.”

To be continued…

…when I get back from Thailand in a month ;)

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