A story contributed by a real serial dater in the YYC.
Calgary born and raised, traveler, lover of bourbon and wine, Music Therapist and unfortunately a bit of a serial dater.
He picks me up in his Mustang, takes me for lunch at Melrose and talks about how wonderful he is. Makes me drive his car to Cochrane for ice-cream. The car was a stick, I didn’t drive stick and was terrified. He insisted. I stalled the car half-way into town four times. On the ride home, he continued to talk about himself. When he asked if he could see me again I said “most likely not”. He was pissed and wanted to know why. I told him exactly what I thought: “you are full of yourself”.
I had to pick something up at the Bay before we went for lunch. As we were walking through the store, he groped several female mannequins. After lunch at Melrose we went back to his place. His cat greeted us at the door. He picked kitty up and began biting her feet in a playful manner. Did this guy honestly think I would kiss him after this?
My boyfriend of 3 years began cheating on me with a girl name Kim. He then cheated on me again with another girl named Kim. Kim II ended up being his girlfriend. We used to eat at Fleur de Sel frequently. I took myself on a date there after we broke up – probably to wallow. Guess who was eating dinner at Fleur de Sel with Kim II? Yup, the ex. He looked embarrassed and she looked furious. Nice moves buddy – take your new lady to our old spot.
He was exceptionally attractive and very bold in asking me out. After a long shift I met him for a drink at OJ’s. A glass of wine in and I felt like I was being interviewed for the position of full-time partner or wife. He asked me questions about everything from sports, weekend activities, family background, education, belief system, and kids in about 45 minutes. That’s pretty heavy for a first date! He tried to seduce me that night and succeeded. No further dates ensued. Every call thereafter was purely for booty. I stopped returning his texts and cut off contact.
I was living in Vancouver at the time. He took me to Rodney’s and we had a lovely dinner. I noticed he was drinking a ton of white wine and by the time we left the restaurant he was drunk. I wanted to go to a movie but he said he didn’t want to. He wanted to visit his friend’s bar on Granville street. We sat in his friends crappy bar where more white wine was consumed by my date. I was drinking water by this time. He was nearly falling down when we walked home. He obnoxiously ran into traffic twice. This was our 4th or 5th time going out and he hadn’t made a move on me yet. Thank jeebus he never did. He spent the entire night puking in the bathroom. Why do I even bother?
He was a hot drummer / composer for a band in Vancouver. We hung out once before and had a really fun time. The second time around I took him on a date to the steam rooms in East Van. It was a pretty hot date…getting sweaty in my bikini on a bone chilling night with Mr. Drummer. We went back to mine and we got down and nerdy talking about music. He made the first move. The next morning in the middle of having another romp, he stopped and said “I have to go”. Recently we connected via Facebook and he apologized saying he didn’t know what had come over him. Neither do I.
I have always been able to look after myself financially but I will say it’s a lovely gesture when a man occasionally treats his date. On our first date he forgot his wallet at home. On consecutive dates he never refused when I would pay or offer to pay. On this date I treated him to concert tickets followed by wine and cheese. The next morning we went for breakfast at Phil&Sebs. At the till, I went to grab my phone out of my purse and he said “Oh thanks!” as the cashier gave me the total. This dude assumed I was also buying breakfast after paying for the night before? Rude. To grind my gears a little bit more, he whined over breakfast how he needed to get a new hobby. His was getting too expensive as evidence by the $4,000 road bike he’d purchased the day before Ok, it wasn’t about the money. It was the principle. I don’t want to be your sugar momma dude! Maybe when I am rolling in it one day. Maybe.
And then there was this time I dated a man who turned out to be a while collar criminal with a second identity. He was arrested, charged and deported back to England…another dramatic dating story for another day!