I was in my first year at UVic, and I was going on only the second or third date I’d ever been on in my life. He picked me up in his car and the small talk was easy and flirty. I was feeling good about the whole thing; he seemed like a keeper. We arrived at Phonomenal, a Vietnamese restaurant, and went inside.
We went to sit down and I accidentally kicked the leg of the table as I was sitting. Not really a big deal, right? I gave the table a little nudge that no one else in the world would probably have ever commented on. But he noticed. He looked me in the eyes and said blankly, “You kicked the table.”
“…yes?” I said, tentatively.
He replied in the same blank, humourless tone.
“It’s because you’re so fat.”
Feeling very shocked and quite deflated,
I (gently and gracefully) stood up and left the restaurant without a word. I never looked back to see if his expression matched the humorlessness of his voice.
I had already met her for coffee once and had some reservations around a second date, but at the behest of my co-worker (“Maybe she just had a bad day!”), I agreed to meet her for dinner, to be followed by board games at the nearby boardgame cafe.
Dinner consisted of brutally forced conversation about how much she disliked Mad Max: Fury Road. We had nothing else in common to speak of. When we got to the games cafe, it was too busy, but we opted to put our names down for a table, prolonging my agony.
After a brief walk to grab a coffee and kill some time (all while I hoped we never heard back from the cafe), we were informed our table was ready. Cue an hour and a half where we played three games: one in which she beat me despite not liking the game itself, another that wasn’t at all ideal for two players, and another in which neither of us understood the rules.
Judging by our abrupt parting of ways (complete with super awkward hug goodbye) on the street corner afterwards, I think we both knew it was a wash.
My first Plenty of Fish date was one for the books . . . We met up downtown and to my surprise, he looked nothing like his photos and was VERY handsy from the get go. He kept touching my thighs, placing his hands very low on my back and caressing me way too much for someone I’d known for all of 15 minutes.
The last straw was when he took my recoiling from his wandering hands as a sign to move in for a kiss. When I backed away and I told him “I wasn’t feeling it” he grew
enraged. “You’re not . . . FEELING it?!” he clapped back. Like it was absolutely outrageous that someone wouldn’t be into him. As I sat there in shock, he proceeded to stand up and, I shit you not, STOMP HIS FEET like a child having a red faced tantrum in a grocery store. And then . . . HE RAN AWAY!!!! He just disappeared into crowd never to be seen again. Officially the weirdest date I’ve ever been on.
We met on a dating site, as you do, and got along great for a few weeks, so we decided to meet at a coffee shop. When he arrived, he brought someone with him, which was strange—stranger when he introduced her as his girlfriend. Luckily I had my coffee to go.
First, he rigged Facebook to change his age on Tinder. If not for this, he wouldn’t have even showed up to swipe. Is this a red flag? We decided to meet downtown with no firm plans. I dressed casual in leggings and plaid. Upon meeting, he was decked out in dress shirt, pants, and shoes, admitting he just “threw it on.” We shook hands and right away I felt like I was going in for an interview. He gestured down the street, insinuating he had made plans. He paid to have a horse and carriage bring us to the restaurant as I silently screamed inside my head. Topics of conversation included his almost road to the Olympics, him showing our initial conversation to all his friends, and at one point, IBS. Every time the waiter came over he called him “boss” like an asshole. I got the impression he’d been on this date 100 times and did not accept the after dinner coffee invite. He paid for dinner which was nice until he said it was the least he could do since he’s in engineering and he’s rich.
Illustrations by Leone Brander, Design Director
