Adventures in Real Life Dating–part 3 (?)

I’ve brought you installments on real life dating stories in the past. Like NutJob & Cruper (who, incidentally, texted me on Boxing Day wishing me a Merry Christmas. Nearly 16 months since our one and only date. Nearly 16 months since I stopped responding to his texts. Nearly 16 months since I told him to leave me alone. Not that I’m keeping track or anything).

Well, I have a few more for you. (Just when you thought that I wouldn’t have any new stories because I quit POF).

First up:

This one isn’t really a dating story, but it could have been, so I’m going with it. I met him at a skytrain station well over a year ago (you meet all the “good ones” on public transit). He approached me and said “I just want to say that I think you’re cute and you have a really nice smile.”. I thanked him and we chatted a bit. I wasn’t sure if he was kind of drunk, or mildly retarded. He asked for my phone number. I didn’t have the heart to say no, so I gave him a fake number (not entirely fake, just the last few digits mixed around). Not one of my finer moments, but that’s what I did.

Two weeks later, I have a voicemail on my phone. It was from a guy that sounded either kind of drunk, or mildly retarded. I kid you not.

I shared this story with a friend at work, and he coined a nickname for the guy: my Autistic Stalker.

Fast forward a year. I was at the Salsa club a few months back when this guy approached me with a big old grin on his face. I didn’t think much of it; he looked familiar, so I figured he was going to ask me to dance. I just didn’t realize how I knew him. As soon as he opened his mouth I knew. He didn’t even have to finish his sentence. “I just want to say that I think you’re cute and you have a really nice smile.”. So it was his line…

Next up:

I met him at dance several months ago. I “affectionately” call him El Retardo. But don’t let the name fool you; he’s not Latino.

I met him, we danced, he hit on me and asked for my number. I gave it to him.  We ended up agreeing to meet the Sunday before I went to Thailand. It was the most annoying build up to a date ever.

We were supposed to meet at a coffee shop in the mall. The mall closed at 6pm, we were meeting at 8pm; when I told him and suggested another location, he dismissed it and said we would “figure it out”. I was a few minutes late and rolled into the parking lot he said he was in around 8:05; he was nowhere to be seen. He rolled in at least 20 minutes after I did. I was annoyed. Then we started driving around the mall parking lot trying to find some place to go. They were all closed. Didn’t see that one coming.

I decided to let it go and continued trying to find time to connect. I say “trying” because it would take weeks for us to be able to make plans. He was a flake at best. We would make plans for “tomorrow” and then he’d ask what day we were getting together. When I told him tomorrow, he’d ask for another day because he was confused and busy tomorrow.

Other times, he’d ask if I was available to meet on a Wednesday around 10am, even though I repeatedly told him I work Mon-Fri dayshift. Then there were the times he’d ask me to meet him that night; I wouldn’t respond right away because I was at work and hadn’t gotten the text. When I would respond saying “Sure, when and where?”, I would get a response saying that I took too long to respond so he made other plans, accepted a shift at work, or went swimming and is tired now.

I had put him into the friend zone weeks earlier because I was tired of dealing with that bullshit, yet, he kept trying to make plans with me so that we could “figure us out”.

Eventually, we had plans to meet to figure us out; he indicated that he made plans before we were supposed to meet (like the quality gentleman he is) and was going to be a little late. Like at least an hour late. I’d already made plans for after and told him that being an hour late was too late. I never heard from him again. Really looking forward to that awkward moment when we’re both at the Salsa club at the same time.

Last up:

Shorty. You might remember him from my last post. He repeatedly told me that he liked dancing with me and wanted to “be my friend”. He gave me his business card because he happens to be a mechanic and told me that he’d help me if I ever had car trouble. Not a bad friend to have, so when he asked for my number, I gave it to him, even though I knew I’d be having the “friend talk” sooner rather than later.

The night after we met, he texted me and asked if I was going to go dancing. I said maybe and asked where he was going. He was going to dance at a hotel in Surrey (ironically, Thailand’s hotel). Between not wanting to give Shorty the wrong idea, being tired and also not wanting to face the awkwardness of running into Thailand (especially with a little munchkin following me around); I declined his invitation.

The next day, Shorty texted me and asked how I was doing. I asked him how dancing was on Saturday night. He said “All good. But I missed you…”

Seriously? You miss the girl that you met two days ago?? Looks like I’ve got another one on my hands. The only silver-lining to this one is the fact that he doesn’t speak much English. How is that a plus? Purely from an entertainment stand-point; getting texts like these ESL gems:

“Has dance classes is good”

“Salsa has an inquiry to please as we dance”

“You do on the job”

“And who did you do today?”

Your Mama!!! … … oh wait… that doesn’t really work as ThatWhiteGirl’s response.