|The image selection in Google for "bad dates" is priceless.|
Due to overwhelming response and demand and all of your private stories you sent me, I’m thinking of making this a recurring theme: BAD DATES. I have never received so many comments or likes on a post since I started writing so I’m guessing we all love to hear the mishaps of another.
So. To entertain the great audience that you are. I have more. Many more. And feel free to send me yours in the comments below or however you want to.
Here is a story that was told to me which NEEDS to be shared. It's not really a bad date. But. It's pretty bad.
I was single for quite some time and I meet crazy ass men sometimes. So I have learned to just keep my shit hush hush until it turns out to be more serious. A. I don’t want to jinx it. B. It’s none of anybody’s business. When a man calls you Mommy, you just don’t want anyone really knowing about that.
So. I met this guy while I was out with some friends at la Buvette Chez Simone. He was friends with my friends. We sat next to each other because I got there late. And conversation was amazing. He was this anti-technology kinda guy, just like me. He owned a work Blackberry. Yes. A freaking Blackberry. Who the hells owns that shit? Anyways…We talked about how society was dying because of all these obsessed phone people. We talked about the rise of Apple, the death of communication. It was deep shit. I love deep shit.
No. I don’t have Facebook, I don’t have Twitter, except for Instagram. Gotta love those filters. Neither did he. This was love at first sight. (Note from author, she saw my post because I shared it on my Instagram!) He made me laugh, he even bought me a flower from those flower people that pass by. It was like: BOOM. I met this awesome man, who shared my interests.
He took my number, and we started to go on a few dates. This was mid-November last year.
We got along. He was fun. I hadn’t met someone quite like him in a while. But he seemed that he wasn’t really ready to commit. We would see each other one night, and then I wouldn’t hear from him for 2 days. And then I would see him again, he would be so sweet. Then again, I couldn’t ask him what he was up to. I didn’t have that right. I hate that shit. I hate not knowing. Play naïve until further notice.
BTW. I hate Whatsapp. I see that he’s online. But who the hell is he talking to, yet not talking to me?
I am online. He’s online. JUST TALK TO ME DAMNIT. But no, I had to play it cool. And just hope that he was chatting with his buddies about his fantasy hockey stuff or whatever. I convinced myself that Whatsapp was only used to talk to me and fantasy hockey. Stupid girl. Stupid stupid girl.
Christmas time came along and I spent it in my family and he spent it in his. He didn’t mention anything about coming to meet my family, so I didn’t insist. On Christmas morning, I went to my parents. My siblings were there. I hadn’t seen them in a really long time so it was so nice to catch up. We’re 3 sisters. I have a sister 2 years older than me, and one that is 2 years younger. They are these gorgeous blond girls. I always felt like the middle sister black sheep. We used to get along really well, but these days we saw each other much less, and Christmas was the first time seeing them since my parents threw this Halloween party! I know. Too long without seeing your family. Anyways. C’est la vie. I was excited to tell them about Derek. Yes. That’s his name.
We all sat and opened gifts, and catched up over many glasses of mimosas. There is seriously nothing better than a Christmas mimosa. I told them about my guy and how he got me this really awesome piece of street art for my condo.
At that moment. My younger sister turned to me and said:
“Really? That’s funny. This guy I am seeing offered me street art too, but I told him it didn’t really match my apartment. Show me.”
So. Of course I had taken a picture of it. It was so cool. I showed her the piece. It was a diamond. A beautiful blue diamond.
Her eyes grew wide.
She screamed. “HOLY SHIT. That’s the piece he gave me!!!”
Coincidence? I think not.
You can imagine what came next.
“Who are you seeing?” I asked her, with a little bit of a tremble in my voice. Can you blame me?
My heart sank. “MY DEREK TREMBLAY”?
How was this happening??? HOW IS IT THAT MY SISTER IS DATING THE SAME MAN AS ME AND I DON’T KNOW IT???? And clearly, she doesn’t know about it either.
WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKK! I kept screaming. She kept screaming. We were both screaming. How did he not know? Had I never showed him a picture of my family? I must have pictures of them in my apartment, and that he knew. HE MUST HAVE.
Did he know and just enjoy the fact that he was dating two sisters and that his living days were counted? I didn’t know.
My heart, my brain, my words, nothing came out straight. My sister was livid. My sister was as much as wreck as me. We were both in shock. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!
Well. Let me fucking tell you. It’s fucking possible. Excuse the swearing. But there is a time and place for everything and this is definitely the place for a couple cuss words.
Everything worked. He didn’t have any social media, so he wasn’t linked to neither of us. My sister and I didn’t exchange names or pictures of him. Was this planned? This was the plan from hell.
And get this. We both met him a week a part. She met him a week earlier at her friend’s Halloween party.
So what happened next you may ask?
I took a selfie of us and I sent to him.
He answered: ???????
I answered: Meet my sister.
And that was the last message he ever sent to any of us.
I tried calling him, she tried calling him. No answer. We wanted to know. Did he know? Did he not? How many other girls was he seeing? How can we be so stupid? How do you not pick up at all? How is this possible?
The damn guy doesn’t have any social networks. WHAT ARE THE CHANCES THAT THIS HAPPENS? I don’t even know. I don’t even know how we went 1 full month without knowing about this. OK. I don’t speak and share pictures of the men I am dating with my sister. Especially if they aren’t serious yet, and she clearly doesn’t do the same. But. This was the story from hell. This was a movie.
I expected to hear from him after, so did my sister. We both wanted to hear from him. An apology, say that this wasn’t good and move on. I dunno. Something. Truth be told. I wanted him to choose. I wanted him to choose me. You know that movie with Reese Witherspoon. And at the end, she chooses the guy she wants. I wanted to be that. Crazy. I know.
So. Whatsapp was for me, fantasy hockey and clearly conversations with my sister. Damnit.
So did I bump into him again?
Yes I did. He was with another girl. I hid. Like a little stupid girl. I hid.