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Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Date#57 and #58 - The Definition of Epic Failure

This man contacted me via online message and and planned a date within 3 messages, without getting my number. The men who do this are usually the most shopworn on the internet, but they really know what they are looking for and how to get it. This type of man will always be all business. It’s like me, only a man. He wrote that he was actually looking for something long term, but that he could date me until … (uh, thanks). His profile picture was a professional headshot in business attire; something sensible that won’t look stupid in the future. This is one of the best types of shots and further proof that this guy meant business. He was approaching online dating like a hunter approaches a gazelle.

He invited me to an afterwork drink at a local bar on Queen St. He asked on Tuesday for a Friday night date and I accepted. He re-confirmed the day of; with excruciating detail as to where exactly I would find him sitting in the bar and the time: 6:30pm. Talk about pro-active. Or anal-retentive. You choose.

I arrived with rosy cheeks after a brisk 15 minute walk through January in Canada subzero temperatures. However, the area is hip and it gave me the time to get some all important window shopping done. I, too, am a hunter, you see.

But lo and behold! The appointed moment arrived and he was not there. So I waited the required five minutes, did one consolation lap around the teeny tiny space just to be sure, checked my inbox in case there was an urgent message from an injured potential suitor (eaten by lions ? fell into a lifeboat?) and when there wasn’t I decided to leave. But not until the strangest thing happened, brah.

As I was moving towards the door, a man (a small man) was standing at the entrance holding the most beautifully wrapped single pink rose and he looked directly at me with a scared look on his face. Now, I know what you are thinking, right? This guy is my date.

So I moved past him sweetly, found a spot just inside the door and watched what he did:
He walked outside.
And leaned against the exterior wall.
Waiting.
After a minute of this, I walked outside and asked if he was waiting for someone named Elle. He smiled and said No. I looked at him for a minute and then at the rose. Probably longingly. He followed up with “I mean, I am waiting for someone, but not Elle”. And he smiled. Sweetly.

Oh, I said softly [Insert sad violin music here]

I kind of wanted to pull out my phone and show him a picture of the guy I was supposed to meet from his online profile and bark “Is this you?” like a cop. But if he wasn’t into it, then I can’t chase him. That's Rule #2. I did find it odd that he watched me walk across the street and get into a cab for home. The following day there was a message from Date#57 time stamped from 7:06pm advising that he was at the bar and should he wait for me?

So, let me get this straight Date#57: You planned and confirmed a date that you - then - showed up 30 minutes late for? So I politely (read: pointedly) outlined that I had been there at the correct time, and that since he had planned it and re-confirmed it, I had assumed it was convenient for him…etc. Then I blocked him so I didn’t receive any angry rebuttals. Because men are so predictable.

That same weekend, I had a Sunday afternoon date scheduled. Daytime activities are excellent ways to get to know someone but it is important to remember that they are not romantic. It does not – and will never - compare to a simple drinks date. The man who offers to do a daytime activity date is only looking for a sports buddy, not a lifemate.

But I hadn’t had honey garlic barbeque wings in a while, so I accepted.

I was supposed to meet Date#58 at a local bar to watch an NFL playoff game. However, I had car trouble and had to cancel. He was cool about it and invited me to coffee another time, or to watch the SuperBowl. Whoa, big step. He was willing to sacrifice the whole SuperBowl on a first date. He meant business. Sadly, I did not. His picture was too blurry and far away and he never did ask for my number.

I guess I will just have to buy my own wings.

Full Disclosure: I have no idea if the guy with the rose was my date. Dear Reader, what do you think? You are welcome to post comments. As for Mr. Football, I didn’t respond to his second offer. And because men are predictable, this only inflamed his ardour. He promptly followed up the next day with a request for my number. It was a bad case of too little, too late. I deleted it. The whole weekend was such a bomb that seriously considered taking my profile(s) down. But then my eHarmony profile auto-renewed, so I took it as a sign from God (ha!)and didn’t.

And if anyone wants to watch the SuperBowl with me, then please bring enough money for 2 orders of wings. And beer.

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