I'm sorry, this is a date?

"You probably killed your mother with those hands. And those flowers are probably fresh from her funeral."





At the ripe old age of 22, I'll admit that I've only just begun to date. And for those of you who know me well, I mean that I've only just begun to realize that these "dinners" and "hang out sessions" are actual dates, and not just people getting together to eat and walk along romantic streets and enjoy fun times at the theatre.

So in honor of this new revelation, I've decided to recount my early dating experiences for you all to read about and laugh at. Enjoy the density that is my mind.

Date Number One: Fall of 2005

This dude messaged me on facebook out of nowhere. Apparently, I had met him while running into my friend Trish on campus. Thinking I was cute, he asked me to hang out sometime...and so we did. At my house. We both found common ground on X-men and proceeded to discuss the joys of Wolverine, the hotness of Ice-Man and the greatness that is The Phoenix. In the darkness of my basement while we watched some film (probably X-men) he kissed me. It was gross. He was sort of gross, not my type, emo and just plain weird, and it felt like as if I was kissing the lips of a dead duck. Cold, and wet, and did I mention gross? After refusing to do it again and telling him that he's just a "friend," he curled up on my couch in the fetal position and proceeded to tell me how "no one ever likes me." Fun, eh?

Date Number Two: Summer of 2006

"Hey, let's grab dinner sometime."

To most normal people, when asked by a relatively cute stranger (or acquaintance), the first thing that would pop into your mind is "DATE." To me, I just thought of it is as food with some dude at around 7 pm. So what do I do? I head over to this guy's place right after work, still wearing my name tag, cargo shorts and a gross t-shirt. He walks out of his house freshly showered in a form fitting polo and jeans that make his ass look like a work of art. He ends up taking me to Terroni's on Queen where we are seated in the back patio underneath a tent with Christmas lights all a-twinkle, and he orders us wine. I didn't drink back then. So of course, I'm a little tips and it's not until he feeds me a piece of his pizza that I realize that this is a date. And so after a slightly romantic walk up Palmerston back to his place, I decid to make out with him to remove a little bit of my guilt. Sadly, in retrospect on the drive home I realize that he's not my type and I make some lame excuse at the end of our second date not to see him again.



Date Number Three: Winter of 2007

Now this, this is the first time where I actually acknowledge that I am actually indeed, going on a date. Another online contact off of faceparty.com, our first meet'n'greet was on campus where we decided to just grab a coffee. After forty-five minutes of thinking "whoa, you're a little extra," I decide to go ahead and go on a second date because really, how can you possibly know whether or not you like a guy after only spending less than an hour with him? And so what unfolds is the lesson of a lifetime: When you don't feel it, you don't feel it. Don't fake it to try and make yourself "see the person within" because it just won't happen. I didn't realize this until we ordered our dinner, after he picked me up, after he drove all the way across the God damn GTA because he's a complete gentleman. Once again with the guilt, I invite him back to my place where we watch a movie and I let him hold my hand. Sigh. I'm a jerk, I know. So over msn, I tell him that I have issues (which was true--I had issues back then) and that I really shouldn't see anyone.

After a two year hiatus, I am back in the saddle. A relatively fresh saddle, to be honest, but hopefully in time I'll be able to weather the leather and date like a pro.

So how about you readers out there? Any embarrassing or weird date stories?