Fodder for Reality TV

Sometimes I think that I have this internal magnet that attracts the crazies. I always seem to have these encounters that make for great stories to regale my friends, usually at my expense though.

I have cautiously ventured out into the world of online dating and it has generally been quite uneventful. I usually meet some guy, chat for a few hours and realize that there isn’t much chemistry and part our happy ways, a little bit ambivalent about the experience. However, I have the misfortune to have been on two dates where if I didn’t know any better I would swear that I was on some sort of reality show of “the world’s worst blind dates”. These dates rank high on the run to the bathroom with your cellphone and call a friend for a rescue scale. In fact that is what I did.

The first date, let’s call him Chicken Man, gave me a lesson of always ensuring your cellphone is in your pocket on your person just in case you need to be rescued. I being my punctual self (read nervous self) arrived a bit early and waited near the entrance for the guy. I waited for 20 minutes and didn’t see him, so I sat down and proceeded to read my book (keeping in mind that I have only seen one picture of him hoping that he will recognize me). About 10 minutes my date comes to my table informing me that he has been waiting for me in the back for 15 minutes. Who waits for their date in the back of the club? We proceed to start talking and he doesn’t really stop talking about himself, he tells me all about his love of music and his involvement in several bands, including one that he is in with his father and brother. Okay, so he is close with his family but he says it in a way as to impress me. It is essentially a walk through Chicken Man’s musical career. The live music starts up and it is too loud to talk, we both agree to move to the back of the bar so we can hear each other. He quickly gathers his stuff and takes off, I look down to pick up my purse and when I look up he has briskly walked to the back of the club. He leaves me in the dusk and when I get to the table he gets up and leaves me again. I finally settle in and look around and he is up at the bar ordering another drink and some food. I am left sitting there for 10 minutes thinking should I just get up and leave now or should I at least pretend that he isn’t a jerk. He comes back with a try full of chicken skewers, but at least he offers me some. I kindly decline and tell him I am a vegetarian, his response is “oh really”, he then proceeds to quickly devour the chicken. Perhaps he eats it at record pace because he doesn’t want to offend me with it sitting there or probably he is just starving, explaining his speed in getting up and making a bee line to order. So I attempt to engage him in conversation and the topic of cooking comes up. I ask him what he likes to cook and then he goes into a detailed list of all the ways he likes to prepare chicken…bbq chicken, deep fried chicken, roast chicken, chicken wings, etc. I guess that in the span of the 5 minutes between scarfing down the chicken and talking he forgot that I am a vegetarian. The topic then moves to his ex-wife. He proceeds to tell me how he would have killed himself if he were still with his ex-wife and how bitter the divorce is. At this point, I am regretting that I put my cellphone in my purse and I can’t access it without looking very conspicuous. I decide to go to the bathroom, where I gather my thoughts and give myself a pep talk. I just need to nod and smile, nod and smile. I come back and he thankfully asks me some questions, we come to the topic of being independent and I say to him that I prefer to be around independent people at which point he says, “ you don’t hang around with little kids do you, they are so needy. I quickly respond and say, well in fact I have 4 nieces and nephew and they are incredibly independent. He then says, well I don’t want to be around kids, when my sister and brother-in-law have kids I am moving out, I don’t want IT disturbing my sleep.. The final thing he asks me is “do you know where the best place to meet girls in groups are? I don’t like to go and talk to single girls and buy them drinks, it is a waste of money, groups of girls are better”. Okay at this point, I have been way too nice and it is time for me to go. He knows that I am not interested; the far off look in my eyes probably is a big clue. I tell him I have to go to the bathroom so that I don’t have to walk out with him. I couldn’t believe that I spent an hour with this jerk.

Then there is Spandex Boy, having learnt my lesson with Chicken Man. I have my friends read his profile and give the approval that he is not some child hating cheap carnivore. We agree to meet for coffee one day after work. I touch base with him on the phone before I leave work and he seems a bit hesitant and slow on the phone. Maybe he has had a long day or he is a bit nervous. We agree to meet at Chapters. I assume that this is just the meeting place and then we will go for coffee somewhere, little did I know that Chapters was part of his date plan. He arrives and suggests that we go upstairs to the children’s section and show each other our favourite children’s books. Okay, kind of cool, a good way to break the ice. We head upstairs and he stops a sales associate to ask her where the children’s section is, she tells him to wait a moment because she is helping someone else and he then interrupts her and says just point it out to us. He then says to me that “she was a bit rude don’t you think:”, in my mind I though he was a bit rude. Anyways, as we get closer to the children’s section, he picks up some of the toys and plays with them, he pushes the wagon and drops the handle. At this point, I think that maybe I have gone on a date with a 5 year old child trapped in a grown up’s body. We get to the children’s section and he knows exactly what book to get, like he has rehearsed it. I walk around looking at the books and he comes back 5 minutes later and we sit down in the chairs reserved for little kids. He opens up the book and points to the pictures and I get a sense that he is going to read to me. I quickly pipe in and ask him why he likes this book, hoping not encourage him to read to me. We proceed to go page by page through it and read it together. Thankfully, story time is over and we decide to go for coffee. However, as we walk out of Chapters he proceeds to touch more toys and pick up books. He is just like a little kid wanting to tough and play with everything. We finally get to the coffee shop, which he just sort of walks into expecting me to follow him. We have no dialogue about whether I want to have coffee here or not. I sort of flop down in these comfy chairs near the window but Spandex boy starts to have an intimate moment with the chair, he caresses it, slides down in it and makes some faint moaning sounds as he slips into the seat. He tells me that the chair is perfect for him. I wanted to get up and leave him while he had the encounter with the chair, it was like I was watching some public display of affection between a couple and felt embarrassed, except it was him and this chair. Spandex boy, and this is the reason why he is called Spandex boy asks me what my quirks are. I am not sure, I mumble something about shoes and how much I like them. He asks if it is a fetish, and I vehemently say no. He is already a bit sexualized and I don’t want to encourage him. Apparently this answer was not satisfactory because he then says I will give you time to think about it. I will tell you mine. Turns out he loves spandex, tight shiny spandex, (petroleum bi-product materials). His ultimate fantasy is a tight spandex suit, like speedskaters wear. His turn on is if he and a girl were to grind up against each other while wearing the suits. I am not quite sure what to say to him at this point. I look around thinking there must be some cameras here because this can’t be real, this is some sort of joke. He still prods for my quirks and I tell him that I don’t like drool. He tells me that the drools a lot in his sleep and if I were to sleep over he would roll over and drool on me. At this point I tell him I have to go to the bathroom and this time I have my phone with me. I call for a rescue text. I come back and eagerly await the text (earlier his cell phone kept going off and he put it in his pocket on vibrate. Thinking ahead I told him it was okay for him to answer it so that I could answer mine). Finally my phone went off and I told him I had to go. I get up to go and we politely shake hands, except he won’t let go of my hand. He tells me I have a very firm handshake. He asks if I want to have dinner with him and I decline, he still won’t let go. He asks if I will MSN with him, I tell him I don’t MSN. I pull my hand away and briskly walk down the street mumbling something like, bye, see you, will be in touch over my shoulder. Thank goodness I wasn’t too far away from home. I swear that he must have been acting because no one in their right mind would act that way on a date.