Matchmaker date 3 – The Spitter

Beautiful girl portrait with umbrella

This is an older story that happened probably October or so last year – but it has to be told. Honestly, this whole executive matchmaker thing has been so ridiculous that people often ask if I am making it up! I’ve paid this company a significant amount of money to get access to a more exclusive group of men than I am finding on RSVP and Tinder and I’m getting nothing but undateable duds!

I assumed the men would have good jobs seeing they were able to pay for their membership too, but this hasn’t been the case with the call centre worker or the petrol tank driver. I can only assume that the men pay less (if at all) as there is definitely a man shortage in Sydney!

So after two dud dates, one that we have agreed does not count (the petrol tank driver) as he is certainly not a professional, nor an executive, I am hopeful my matchmaker (MM) has finally pulled it together. The next man she sends me heads up an IT dept at a major company, is late 30’s by the look of it, his profile seems interesting and he lists his height as 5’11 which is just 1 inch taller than me, but it will do.

I say I would be happy to meet him, he also says he is happy to meet me and we speak on the phone to arrange a date. We agree to meet at a bar in the city one night after work. As I am approaching the bar, I notice that I am walking behind a man wearing a backpack looking quite confused about where he is going. I also notice that he has a bald spot rapidly approaching, but hey again, I am not perfect and I think I have to accept thinning hair in men getting towards their 40’s. But if Ricky Martin had turned up AND decided he was straight, I’d certainly take that instead….

This man turns around and I see that it is definitely my guy. I approach and say his name as a question to confirm it is him, he says yes and I go to give him the standard first date kiss on the cheek….and he extends his hand for a handshake. Okay…….

I also notice at this point that he is wearing teeth braces. And not the discreet type that I see some mature adults wearing these days, certainly not invisalign. They looked exactly like the ones that my fellow students wore in school with the elastics. I immediately feel a bit bad for him thinking that he must have had a car accident or fell off a horse or something to be his age and wearing those kind of braces.

We head into the bar and whilst I look at the cocktail menu, he stands behind me and to the side like we are not together at all. The barman is the typical, flirty, ‘I work for tips’ kind of barman and he asks me about my day and we have a cheeky conversation as if my date is not standing right there, or perhaps he thinks he is my special cousin standing all shy in the corner. We order and then the barman clicks that I am with this guy and he asks him for the $18 for both drinks. He hands over a $20 and I too have a $20 and I offer to pay instead as my drink was far more expensive than his cider, but he says to not worry.

We find a table outside on the balcony overlooking the water. I am sitting facing the water and the sun is setting so I’m wearing my sunglasses for the glare. The conversation is awkward, he seems very uncomfortable and I’m waiting for the story about the teeth. He also seems to be missing both canine teeth on the top row. A man of his age, who is trying to date and find a serious partner, surely should be coughing up the story as to why he is wearing braces like a teenager.

When MM originally met with me and asked what my top 5 deal breakers were I told her:

1. intelligent

2. Funny

3. Tall

4. Nice Teeth

5. No kids

I can’t help but wonder whilst he is telling some story how MM thought he would be a good match for me when CLEARLY I rated nice teeth quite highly. I also recalled that in his profile picture his mouth was shut, thus withholding crucial information about the date!

He continues to talk and I start noticing that the black laminate (classy) table that we are sitting at is increasingly being populated with little dots of water. Which are flying from his mouth. Yes, flying through the air with the greatest of ease.

Yet, still no comment about the braces. Then I look down at my glass. There is a droplet of moisture on the side of my glass that does not look like condensation. What the hell is inside the glass now?!?! Suddenly I am not so thirsty…..

But it got worse, oh so much worse!! Just after I regroup after discovering the glass spit, I feel a drop on my hand. Yes, his spit has landed on my hand.

Is this story bad enough yet? Do you think it couldn’t get any worse? Do you think I’m making it up? You can’t make this shit up. Trust me.

Next, a ball of spit lands on my sunglasses lens. A big ball of spit. That I am now looking through. It’s burring my vision out of my right eye. He must see it. He is looking straight at me. But he doesn’t seem to react at all.

What do I do?!?!? I feel too rude to get a tissue out of my handbag and wipe his spittle off my sunglasses. But why the fuck doesn’t he feel too rude to not acknowledge he is spitting all over me?!?!?!

I’m done. He has finished his drink and he asks me if I’d like another, but I say I have to get home and study for a uni exam. We stand and this is the first time we’ve stood close together long enough for me to notice that he is actually shorter than me. Yep, he might be 5’9″ at best. So, as I always say, men always add an extra inch.

We say goodbye and I head off deflated that my third date with this agency has been a bust.

First thing in the morning I’m on the phone to my MM and summon her to my office to meet me for coffee so we can discuss how crap this service has been. She actually has the balls to comment that she will contact my date before she comes to get some feedback about what he thought about me. Really, what is he going to say? I had too many teeth??!?! Can you find me someone who appreciates a guy spewing bodily fluids all over her…..on the first date ;p

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