Best Worst Dates Ever

It’s Valentine’s Day, single and flaked out on the couch, what better time to reminisce about that dating thing I vaguely remember doing.

I don’t date often, so I usually date well, and first dates are generally a good time. Like that fella I met for a movie and we hit it off so well we decided to go out for dinner afterwards. While driving down McLeod Trail looking for a place to eat, we were so caught up in conversation and banter we reached the city limits before we remembered we were looking for a restaurant.

Or that guy I liked so much I got up early for a date that started in the morning (and ended up going for 15hrs). A day that started particularly early for me so I could make sure I had time to shave my legs. Something of importance as he had asked me out for lunch the week previous and as we sat in the park eating take-out chinese and “lunch” moved into it’s third hour, I started to wonder: “Hey, is this a date? It kinda feels like a date.” Then I look down at my cross-legged shins in the grass and thought: “Well, I hope it’s not a date, ‘cause I totally need to shave my legs.”

But more fun to remember are the dates that didn’t go well. Like the guy I met for a walk in the park. Nice afternoon, but aside from kicking up a bit of dust, the earth did not move. Partially because I’m a bit of a shit, and partially ‘cause I really didn’t know for sure, as the date wrapped up I asked him what he thought – in fairness to me (i.e. I’m not a total shit), the question was precipitated by him previously saying he could tell in less than 5 minutes if there was gonna be chemistry, so I didn’t think it was totally off the mark to just ask. I was actually surprised when he said “Yeah, I’d like to see you again.” (the fact that in my head I said “REALLY?” should have been a clue as to how much chemistry I was reading). I was then secondarily surprised to not hear from him again. And even more surprised to run into him later and get sucked into one of the longest, most awkward conversations I’ve ever been in – he just would not stop talking to me (and he clearly didn’t really want to be talking to me), no matter how many outs I gave him. Awkward! An awkwardness highlighted by having to look over his shoulder as  my friend tried to act like she was shopping, all the while shaking in silent laughter. Really hard for me to keep a straight face through that one.

You’d think that would be the end of one of my best awkward stories ever, but this was destined to become the Never Ending Awkward Story. A year later, another friend (who had never met him) was shopping where he worked and went to ask him a question and well, the tale is best told through a rough re-creation of her internal dialog at the time:

“Hey, I think this is that guy Valerie was talking about.” [being as this was one of my best awkward stories, I didn’t hesitate to tell it] “Oh, I faltered over my question – distracted, remembering that awkward story.” “Oh, he noticed I got tongue tied… and just looked me up and down.” “Oh God, I think he’s checking me out! He must think I’m into him, getting all flustered around him” “Now I really can’t remember what I was going to ask him” “Wow, this is really awkward…”

Awkward, and a beautiful awkwardness that just keeps spreading, but in the worst date ever category, first runner up would have to go waaaay back to when I was sixteen, at one of those drunken house parties where none of us had enough sense to know how to drink. In the back seat with my beau to be, getting a ride back to my place, my darling date proceeds to vomit…into a cardboard box…which, naturally, leaked. This delightful experience is only my second worst date however, ‘cause with a bit of coffee…and mouthwash, it was retrieved from utter disaster.

My worst date ever also has it’s origins in drunken house parties, much later in time, when most people had learned how to drink. After having met this one particular guy at several parties in a row, we finally ended up one on one, outside the party group. We went hiking. As a novice hiker, I wasn’t keeping the pace he would have set; he did not make a lot of effort to disguise his annoyance at this – a fact that did not endear him to me whatsoever. So we had a very lonnnng, painful, awkward date thoroughly NOT enjoying each other’s company (though the scenery was lovely).

Sadly, the highlight of that outing, for me anyway, was watching him walk through long grass and immediately break out in hives (allergies – guess he wasn’t so rugged after all). As much as I was enjoying a bit of karmic kickback, I did manage to refrain from giving him a hearty Simpsons “Har! Har!” and was even able to show a bit of concern for his wellbeing, and was glad to find he had an inhaler with him.

The best part of this worst date ever would be that the whole time we were trudging through the woods in grumbling silence, I wanted to grab him by the sleeve, look into his eyes and say: “But…but…don’t you remember?…How completely captivating I am…when you’re drunk.”

And that, would be my best worst date ever story.

So, those of you not busy with the flush of love on this sainted day, let’s hear your stories…best dates, worst dates, Valentine horror stories. What else were you gonna do today?

p.s. Sorry, no images for this article, my photo collection is – not surprisingly – short on pictures from first dates. But hey, wouldn’t that be a fun first date: “Nice to meet you, let’s go to Sears for a photo shoot. Dibs on the 8×10! You can have the wallet sized.” Ah…awkwardness immortalized in film. Any takers? Only $19.95.

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Why I’m Still Single

I’d like to have a good answer to the question how I managed to get to be thirty eight and still be single. I’m not aspiring to oldmaidenhood, I’m a fan of the idea of relationships and that whole settling down having a family bit; kids are an awesome excuse to be able to play without people looking at you funny – making motorboat noises in the pool is completely acceptable if you have a three year old with you, otherwise not so much. I’d like to say I’m still single because I’m discerning, or just haven’t met the right guy yet; but well… perhaps a conversation I had with a friend a while back would be a good place to start.

I was diving into the world of internet dating and was feeling a bit of trepidation and sought out my friend’s perceptive – a male opinion on a few of the guys I was chatting with. After getting a general nod of approval for the fellows in question he turned to me and said:

“But you know, everybody is on here because there is something wrong with them.”

“Hey! I’m on here, what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re too opinionated……and argumentative.”

Which I really couldn’t argue with, so I figure that means I’m not really very argumentative after all……oh crap, nevermind.

I’d like to think of it more as irrepressible cheek. Another case in point:

More of the online dating, this time I get an introductory email from a fellow with some obscure Latin username, I google the word only to find it’s a term for that doomsday, end of the world kind of philosophy. I reply with a link to the REM song “It’s the End of the World as We Know it, and I Feel Fine.” Holy lack of humour Batman! The fellow responds with a considerable tirade on REM and pop culture, closing with an offer to reeducate my musical tastes. Being as I didn’t think my having the capacity to appreciate a song that is both ironic AND dancable as detrimental to my wellbeing, I declined further conversation.

Sigh, some boys just don’t get me. Including the guy in this conversation:

Introduction from a friend: “Valerie, this is Gord.”

My response: “Oh, like the squash.”

It was a pretty short conversation.

More than anything I think my propensity for unfiltered honesty keeps me from making much headway in the dating realm. I met a neat guy at a party a while back. There was rapport, there was banter, and dare I say it… perhaps a little flirting. Things were going really well and we get to the point in the conversation where he opens with:

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?”

Now any of you with dating savvy will know the conversation from here should follow along the lines of:

“Hmm, not much. What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m going to <insert topical event here>”

“That sounds really neat, I always wanted to <insert topical event here>”

“You should come then”

“Yeah, I’d love that!”

Ta-da! Date.

Me, I pause for a moment to recollect my weekend schedule then reply with:

“Going to Canadian Tire with my Dad”

Yep, Canadian Tire. I’m just that sexy.

smooch

I had the great fortune recently to have the whole dating world explained to me from a guy’s point of view. It is actually pretty short. He said guys are primarily visual creatures. So, providing that is engaged and the girl can refrain from saying anything truly painfully ignorant, things are a go for at least the first few dates.

Look pretty and try not to say anything stupid. I think I can handle that.

So here’s an insider’s tip for any of you guys I might actually end up on a date with: if I’m smiling sweetly at you in silence it is because I am trying hard (really hard) to use my inside my head voice for that passing thought –  at least until the fourth date.

Wish me luck!

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