Apologies for the tardiness of this most recent installment of my life… Hectic doesn’t even begin to describe how busy I’ve been the last couple of weeks. I had to defer uni and every second of my spare time has either been about work or Little Miss. So, now that it has started to calm down a bit I have some time to regale you with another failed date. This one is a little different this time around. I normally don’t write about the good ones. But what if the good ones turn out to be less than so?
So, if you read my last blog you’ll remember the following bits:
Just before my birthday I went on probably one of the most amazing dates I ever have before. He was handsome, successful and absolutely hilarious. It sure had been a long time since I’d shared that kind of connection with anyone before. Fast forward a year and a half and there he is back on Tinder. A big blue box around his picture (that’s a super like, as in he’s super liked my profile). I internally laughed and swiped left (no thank you) and went on my merry way.,
“So when are you going to invite me around to your house for a home cooked meal. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten what ‘skills’ you have.”
I was immediately like no thanks, mate… But after about a week and many discussions with my closest gal pals, they convinced me that I didn’t have anything to lose and his continuous contact implied he was genuinely interested this time around, so I agreed. In between agreeing and date night, I reminisced with Lisa about all the things I used to liked about him. He was handsome, in an edgy and cool kinda way, a James Dean kinda vibe if you like. Accomplished musician in a band, drove a VW Kombi on the weekends and a Santa Fe on the weekdays so he knows how to be serious and can relax. He owned a successful business. He was funny, positive and charming. I was really looking forward to it.
So the day rolls around, Lisa comes over to watch Isla sleep like the stalker she is and in true Lisa style, she whips me up into a frenzy about how amazing this date is going to be. He is coming to pick me up from my house at 7:30pm and when 7:45pm hits I’m pretty sure I’m being stood up. “This cunt better be dead…” Lisa frowns. 7:55pm and just as I’m about to change into my PJ’s there’s a knock at the door. I open and momentarily don’t recognize him. “Wow! Hey!” I stammered awkwardly as I gave him a hug. “Your hair is as long as mine now!” He was like yeah I decided to grow it out and Lisa struggled to maintain her composure as I clearly made things awkward for everyone. “So,” He started, “sorry I’m late… you won’t believe this… but I picked a nice car to pick you up in, but the fuel gauge is broken. I ran out of fuel at the end of your street. Can you give us a lift to the petrol station?” At this point I’m ushering him out of the house because I can hear Lisa losing her shit. I drive him to his car and then drive back to my house. In the 15 odd minutes it takes him to fill up with fuel and come back to pick me up, I’m standing in the doorway waiting while Lisa repeats over and over “are you fucking kidding me? Suzi.. seriously? What the fuck… are you fucking kidding me? He looks like he hasn’t had a shower in 2 weeks?”
Anyway, I get in the car. He apologises profusely. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal it was more funny than anything else. We find a place near where I live and settle in for a drink. “What happened to the Santa Fe?” I asked, making small chat. “You have a good memory! Yeah I shifted it. But if I knew you liked the soccer mum cars I would have picked one off the lot for tonight?” Huh? Lot? “Yeah I worked in used cars now. They got in some logistics partner and I didn’t agree with how he ran the company so I walked away.” Hang on… you walked away from a company you own, didn’t sell your shares, no compensation no nothing? Something doesn’t add up. “Still got the kombi?” I tried to change the subject because he looked visibly upset. “Ah, can’t believe you remember that too. I sold it…” and continues into a depressing story about how it had to be sold for less than it was worth. Ok so what can we talk about that won’t make him step into oncoming traffic? “How are your kids?” yep this will be a winner. “Having difficulties with their mum so I haven’t seen them in 5 weeks.” He looked like he was going to cry. Fuuuuuck I’m tanking. “How’s the band going? I heard one of your songs on the radio the other day!” I said, getting animated. “I left the band… I just didn’t enjoy it anymore.” At this point I wanted to step into oncoming traffic.
We wrapped things up and got in the car to go home. One of the only positive things he said all night was when he talking about a recent trip to Bali and how he visited a monkey temple. Not having anything to contribute, as I’m the only Australian alive who hasn’t been, and wanting the night to end, the only thing I could think to say was “my friend Lisa went to a monkey temple in Bali and a monkey bit her friend and she got rabies.” As we’d just pulled up, I quickly hopped out of the car so that I could say goodbye and retreat inside but he hopped out and walked in with me, excited to tell Lisa his monkey Bali story. Getting inside the house, Lisa was pretty surprised as he sat down on the couch and started talking. Every second or so, she would shoot me a look like “What the fuck is going on here!?” When he went to the bathroom. A conversation happened between us that involved zero words. *insert wild arm flailing from Lisa* Translation: Do you want me to stay or leave? I don’t know what the fuck is going on here!” *insert throat cutting gesture from me* Translation: If you leave I will fucking kill you. *insert mouthing profanities from Lisa* you get the idea. He came out and I was like YAWN SO TIRED GOODNIGHT EVERYONE and he looked suitably disappointed. He stayed on the couch for as long as possible until I said goodnight again and Lisa did her best to loiter around and make him uncomfortable… I was surprised how long it took him to pick on the weird vibes we were putting down, but he got there in the end and left. Sorry sunshine, no revisiting of “skills.” Despite telling me that he was only interested in catching up as friends, I never heard from him again. Pity.