April 12, 2012
Alright. It’s my turn to take you back, waaaay back, when telling the tales of our most crap-tacular dates was our specialty. And tonight, I’ve chosen one of the earliest bad date stories I shared on this site – A Fishy Game. Think of it as my reminder to all of you (and perhaps myself) out there on the dating scene that on occasions when you’re confronted with something that smells real fishy, the best course of action may not be to eat it.
After a few dates, which included some hot and heavy action, a man I met online a while ago came to the conclusion that we didn’t have enough chemistry to date. My pride hurt, I expected that this would be the end of our connection, but he insisted that he wanted to be friends. I explained that I was reluctant to attempt a friendship with him because I was still attracted to him and that if we were really going to be friends it would have to be platonic – no blurring of lines or funny business. Undeterred he explained that was exactly what he wanted to do. Then he added that he really longed to connect with more women from his ‘culture’ and promised to be on his best behaviour, so foolishly I agreed.
We spoke on the phone a few times before deciding to hang out as ‘friends’ a week or so after ending our romantic connection. He asked me to come over to his place to ‘chill’. When I arrived he was watching basketball. Since I am not a big sports fan I amused myself by playing on his computer. During a commercial break he offered me some of the salmon he had cooked for his dinner. I accepted, grateful for the nourishment. After he handed me the plate of food he went back to the game. By now I was wondering why he invited me over to watch him watching TV.
When the game was over (if memory serves me correctly the Raptors actually won that night), he started to chat with me. At first it was cool, and I actually began to relax, but within minutes my back was up.
‘What was wrong with the salmon?’ he asked.
I looked down at my empty plate and said, ‘Nothing.’
‘Well there had to be something wrong, because you didn’t say it tasted good.’
Okay, he’s being super lame and just a little bit whiny. ‘Well, it was good. Sorry I didn’t mention it, but isn’t the fact that I ate it all a clear indication of that?’
He just shrugged and pulled a stick of lip balm out of his pocket. After slowly applying some to his lips he said (you aren’t going to believe this), ‘You know what, I think my lips are a little raw. Why don’t you kiss me and tell me if they feel raw to you?’
WTF? ‘Hmmm…Why don’t you call the girl, who helped to make them raw and ask her to come over and kiss you?’ I countered, flashing him a toothy smile.
‘Forget I asked,’ he replied, looking down at the empty plate in my hands. ‘So did you notice my fish wasn’t fishy?’
‘No, but I like fish, so fishy or not it’s all good to me.’
He seemed not to hear me and continued on. ‘You have to marinate it a long while so it’s not fishy. I take my time and rub the seasoning into it slowly,’ he said, as he demonstrated his marinating skills by rubbing the back of the bar stool he was sitting on with hands, while grinding his hips (did I already mention he was lame?).
It’s so time for me to go. ‘Wow, I didn’t know marinating fish was so involved,’ I said, getting up to put my plate in the sink. ‘Well, it’s getting late. I should probably leave.’
‘Why are you going so soon? Let’s talk some more.’
Are you kidding me, dude? I turned to face him and leaned against the kitchen counter. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘Well, tell me about your social life. Do you have any dates planned soon?’
God, why did I come here tonight? ‘Yeah.’
‘That’s great,’ he said, stroking his chin. ‘Hey, do you have any male friends you do things for? Like clean, fold laundry or cook for?’
Where the hell is this going? ‘No, I don’t.’
‘Oh. Then you wouldn’t be interested in helping me fold some laundry upstairs?’ he asked, grinning.
For the record brother man lived in a loft and the only thing upstairs was his bedroom. I wasn’t sure what his intentions were, but I knew for sure that I was not going anywhere near his bedroom to fold clothes or to do anything else. ‘No, I am definitely not interested in doing that and like I said I should go.’ I moved towards the door and took my coat out of the closet.
He came and stood by the door, as I got my coat and shoes on. ‘Do you have to leave so soon?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, I got to work tomorrow and so do you.’ I picked my purse up off the hall table and turned to open the front door.
‘What I don’t get a hug?’ he asked, as I stepped out into the hall.
What is up with this guy? I turned to look at him, but didn’t step forward into his open arms.
‘Thanks, for a lovely evening. We’ll have to do it again some time.’ I smiled and then turned to walk away.
For some reason my new ‘friend’ didn’t bother to say goodbye before he slammed the door shut.