My dating mojo was ruined by a garbage truck

In a spirit of honesty, and full disclosure, I have put the link to this blog on my POF online dating profile. Afterall, since POF has been the source of 3 of my posts so far (Sweatpants, Microsoft Paint porno, and rap song writers), it seemed only fair to give credit where credit is due.

As a fortunate side effect, I have had several messages from guys stating their frustrated intention to ask me out, as they do not want their “private lives discussed in such a public forum”. I suspect rather that they do not like the notion that I might poke fun at any absurd situation that might arise from some interaction with them, even though I would make every attempt to protect their identities. Frail male egos? What a notion!

In an attempt to be fair, I’ve decided to share an absurd ending to a POF date which was in no way the guy’s fault. I blame Montreal’s garbage removal department (which, fun fact, falls under the Montreal’s environmental department and not the sanitation department. Counterintuitive!)

He was normal and good-looking

Basically, that was the problem. When I met him for our first date (after work drinks and supper), and he not only looked exactly like his profile pictures, was dressed in real clothes (not sweatpants) that were flattering and stylish, and his height was the height indicated on his profile, I was impressed. All of those signs indicated a certain amount of honesty and self-confidence. I was a little disoriented. Clearly this wouldn’t be an online date that would veer into the absurd. I realized I didn’t know how to handle this kind of situation, since it was the first time it had happened in an online context.

He took me to a pleasant restaurant. Good food, some wine, and fun conversation. I got shy, because he had beautiful eyes that looked at me, when I was talking. He laughed at me for being nervous – the fact that he was perceptive made me even more nervous. I blushed. He smiled.

The goodnight kiss

He drove me home, like a gentleman should. I was determined to give him a proper goodnight kiss, instead of the polite peck on the cheek which implies “yeah, no, this ain’t happening”. I was psyched, I was ready.

He double parked in front of my home, and the goodnight kiss was everything I hoped for. It was a somewhat protracted, involved affair, wowie! I’d like to believe that we were both enjoying ourselves thoroughly when Universe decided to laugh at me.

Mid-snog (a word I learned from reading the Harry Potter books, and have been waiting to use properly for years), I noticed in his rearview mirror some very bright headlights were approaching. This distracted me, and so began the internal dialogue:

“Wow, those are some pretty big headlights! I wonder what kind of vehicle has that size of headlights? Ha! it’s a garbage truck. What is a garbage truck doing on my street at midnight? Weird. Oh wait, we are blocking the truck’s way on this street, that’s unfortunate. I hate blocking traffic, it makes me anxious, I should tell him to stop, but he has his tongue in my mouth, that makes speaking difficult. Oh jeez, I have not been paying attention to his tongue in my mouth. I wonder if he’s noticed? He probably has noticed. Shit, this is awkward. How to I get out of this awkward situation?”

How did I get out of this awkward situation, you wonder? I abruptly ended the kiss, and without looking at him, mumbled a thank you for the great evening, and scrambled out of his car before he understood what was happening.

Surprise! No second date

About 10 seconds after I had completed my graceful dash into my home, it occurred to me that perhaps that was abnormal behaviour on my part. And so I thought the best thing to do was to send him a text, to apologize and explain my moment of insanity.

It turns out that texting a guy “Hi! Sorry about that, I got nervous because of the garbage truck approaching while we were kissing, but I really had a great time tonight” is not the way to land a second date. Lesson learned.

I comfort myself that he must as much fun recounting my wtf behaviour as I do recounting my online dating fails. Silver lining!

 

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