GUEST POST: Monica’s Crazy Dating Story
Tanya was amused at this story and so she thought I should share it with the rest of you.
This is the 2nd worst date I’ve had. (The first involves a complete lunatic and a car chase, and so I plan to film it someday.)
I meet a guy at an art show reception. We talk briefly and he asks if we could go out sometime. Sounds great to me. I think this was about 3 weeks after my being dumped by the last guy I was seeing. I need a boost, and to feel “dateable”.
So Jack and I arrange to meet at the Yaletown Brewery (down the street from where he lives - I was in East Van) on a Tuesday.
Monday night I get a peeved call. Jack: “Hey, what happened?”
Me: “What do you mean?”
Jack: :”I’ve been waiting at Yaletown Brewery for an hour.”
Me: “Uh, our date’s tomorrow”
Jack: “Oh.”
OK, minor bump. We reconfirm - tomorrow. Good.
At the Brewery the next night we chat a bit, going OK. We order drinks (1 each as I recall). Soon the waitress comes to say she has to cash out and could we pay for the drinks with her before we order dinner from the next server? Sure. He takes out some money and I say, “Thank You.”
Jack: “No worries - you’ll get the next round.”
Me: “No I won’t.”
Jack: “Why not?”
Me: “Cause it’s not sexy.”
Jack: “Oh. Well it should be sexy.”
Me: (Laughing) Yes, it should.
Sometime later, I excuse myself to go to the ladies room. I come back and we chat some more.
The new waitress arrives with a pizza.
Me: “Oh, wrong table”, I say, since we didn’t yet order.
Jack: “No, that’s for us. I ordered it.”
Me: “When?”
Jack: “When you were in the washroom.”
Me: “OK…” (Huh? Who does that?)
I look at the pizza - it’s a “Meat Lovers”.
Me: “Jack, I’m a vegetarian.”
Jack: “Oh well. More for me.”
Now of course, I could have ordered something after this myself, but somehow I was losing my appetite… Still my self-esteem was on the ground and I clearly needed to continue this date to get it lower. After “dinner” he asks me to come back to his apartment “to see his paintings”. Yes, I had heard this line before, but he assures me he’d be a good boy and so, like a moron, I go back to his place.
It wasn’t long before he makes his move and the kiss was fine, but that’s as far as I am prepared to go. Eventually he implies he had to get up early or some noise and he calls me a cab. The cab arrives, I get in, he makes no offer to pay for the ride. OK. Not charming.
Still, I was so glad I had had a date. Yeah - that’ll teach my ex! I’m out dating! In your face, man! (Except he wouldn’t know, but well, yeah, I’m cool…)
The next day, I wake up and think - nah, not going out with this guy again. Really not worth it. This ‘ll be an uncomfortable conversation when he calls, but whatever.
Only he doesn’t call . Not the next night, nor the one after it. Phew! Dodged a bullet there! After almost a week of not hearing from him, I’m even more certain that the non-interest is mutual and they’ll be no uncomfortable conversations. Ah - life is good.
About a week later, I get a voicemail:
Jack: “Hey, Monica! I had an awesome time with you last week. Just walking through the park, thought of you. Give me a call and we’ll go out again.”
As Jon Stewart would say, “Wha–at?”
Forget it. I don’t need to call him back. If it took this long for him to call it’s clearly not too important to him.
The next weekend, I get another voicemail:
Jack: “Hey, Monica! I left a message for you last week, didn’t hear back. Would like to see you again. Give me a call.”
Yuk. Now I have to do the uncomfortable thing. I call him back.
Jack: “Hello.”
Me: “Hi, Jack, it’s Monica.”
Jack: “Hey!”
Me: (Breath.) “I just wanted to call you back to tell you we won’t be going out again.”
Jack: “OK…. Why not?”
Me: (Pleasant, but majorly awkward:) “Do I really have to explain? It’s not going to be fun. Let’s just leave it at this and I wish you the best.”
Jack: “Well, I like you - and I’d like to know.”
Me: “OK…. ” I explain, as tactfully as possible, what I deem to be a lack of chivalrous behaviour. (Look, I have no problem being single, but when I’m with someone I want to feel that they value me, respect me and think I’m worth some effort, otherwise why bother? )
Jack: “Wow… Well, look, I’ve been out of the dating scene for a bit. I got some bad advice from my friends on how to do this & I’m sorry. Give me another chance.”
God this sucks. I feel bad now. I really don’t want to do this again, but I am feeling guilty…
Me: “Well…”
Jack: “Come on. Just come over to my place, I’ll made you a nice dinner, it’ll be fun.”
I don’t want to. I really, really don’t want to. But I feel really bad saying no. And so, again, like a moron. I agree.
When I get to his place he says he didn’t have a chance to make dinner - and would I mind going out? Not at all.
At Capone’s (down the street from his place) I become more aware of what I will later refer to as his douchbagery (again, thank you Jon Stewart)… he is pretty tacky. The waitress is wearing a Nicotine patch and when he asks about it, she looks very uncomfortable. Not picking up on this, he proceeds to ask her more questions “Yeah, it’s a big patch, makes it pretty obvious you need a fix, eh? How long since you quit?” etc.
Eventually the bill comes and he takes money out and actually points to it and says: “See? See? I’m paying for it.”
Yes, my friend, so am I…
I shall learn to be more assertive. But not quite yet. First some more punishment. He asks if I want to go to his place and watch a movie. “OK,” I respond “but I’m not ready to have sex, so it’s just a movie.” He agrees.
At his place, it isn’t long before he is trying to “give me a massage” which involves trying to take my top off. When I tell him, again, that I’m not ready. He jumps up and says: “FINE! Maybe we should just be friends then.”
No! No please, now I really want to sleep with you…!
“Great.” I say. Perfect.
He sighs. “I’ll just call you a cab.”
“OK. But I actually can’t afford a cab back to East Van right now. So if you’re not paying for the cab, I’ll just take the bus.”
“Well, I sure as hell am not paying for the cab!!!”
“Unbelievable!” I fly out the door.
As I wait, furiously for the elevator to get me out of there, he leans his head out of his apartment and yells down the hall:
“No hard feelings!”
No, none at all…
Monica’s personal blog can be found here! Always a fun read…
Do you have any crazy dating stories you want to share?
And… What are you looking forward to, this weekend?


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