The One That Was a Little Too Refined

Winemaker with wine glass.

A few nights after the date with the one that was not quite refined enough I went on a date with a guy I’d met on RSVP. I have sworn off RSVP a number of times before as I’ve not had many good experiences with guys I’ve met from there, but for some reason I occasionally take a look again and sometimes find someone that catches my eye.

This guy was yet another Mr M and we had exchanged a few emails before moving to txt. Early in the week we arranged to meet for dinner on the upcoming Saturday night with him wanting to take the initiative to plan the date. Great, I like a take charge kinda man!

I had intended to put him through the phone screen round before Saturday, but I had a really busy week and was out every night leading up to the date. But I knew he was tall, worked in Finance and that he had a Japan holiday planned for early next year, which new psychic seems to think is a path to my soulmate, so what could go wrong?

On the night I arrive by taxi to the restaurant almost bang on time for our 7pm reservation. A couple of minutes past 7pm he txts me saying that he is running late, probably about 10 minutes. Great. This will not go well. Not only do I despise lateness, particularly on a first date, but it’s even worse when they don’t even bother to pre-warn of the lateness.

So I hang around out the front of the restaurant as its a tiny quaint little French restaurant that seats 16 people max (according to the review I had pre-read) and it would be really weird for me to wait inside alone.

He eventually turns up about 7:15pm and I give him a kiss on the cheek which is beard covered. Now, I don’t mind a beard at all, in many cases I quite dig them, but none of his pics had indicated that he had facial hair.

We go inside and are seated at a table so close to the couple next to us that we are pretty much about to have dinner with them. The place is run by an elderly French couple that run it entirely by themselves. He cooks, she serves. When the owner lady sees Mr M she gives him a funny look as he has gone to give her a kiss on the cheek, then she seems to recognise him and all is good. Apparently Mr M has been going to the restaurant for 10 yrs and they are old friends.

He introduces me and she tells me that she didn’t recognise him with the beard. She then asks me if I prefer him with the beard or without. Ummmm I don’t know lady, I can barely remember his name yet. With?!?

We order and open some wine that he has brought with him. He apparently loves the food here but also loves that it is BYO as he is quite the wine collector.

He has brought 3 bottles with him including a vintage champagne and two very old French reds. We start with the champagne and it is good. The entree comes and it is average.

When the mains come he opens up the two bottles of red (which he has pre-aerated at home) saying that one would work best with his duck, the other with my fillet mignon.

Then the night started to sour. He swirled the wine, sniffed the wine, then did this disgusting almost gargle of the wine. Then he ate some of his dish, then repeated the swirl, sniff, gargle process again. Ooooooooooookaaaaaaaaaaayyy. I think I’m on a date with a wine wanker.

This continued but he at least dropped the gargle step as the meal progressed. Across the table I felt compelled to do a little swirl and sniff the first time, but the sniff test was not all that pleasant. The taste test was worse. I tried the other red. That was even worse. They both tasted mouldy to me.

Throughout the night the owner lady is at our table a lot. Apparently they are old mates and he often finds her rare French wine. It’s awkward as I don’t know this guy at all and I’d prefer to be getting to know him than hearing from her on the first date.

We get dessert and afterwards the restaurant is emptying. We get the bill and because I’m not too sure I’m interested in him at this stage, plus it was quite a pricey meal and he brought the wine, I offer to go halves. He responded with ‘I’m happy to do whatever makes you comfortable’. Must say that’s one of the weirdest responses I’ve had.

We leave the restaurant and start walking up the street. Outside he seems far more relaxed and we laugh more than we have inside, so I ask him what he wants to do now as its only 10pm. He says he wants to show me his favourite wine bar.

We hail a cab and he does something really weird in that he jumps into the front seat. I get in the back and whilst he engages in a conversation with the taxi driver I curse myself for not bailing and check in with Ms E who is on security detail.

When we get to the wine bar, we are again greeted warmly by the owner. My date orders all this cheese and meat despite the fact we just had dinner and orders us some red. The owner returns to our table for a chat and Mr M who has brought the leftover wine with us (yes, me not finishing a bottle of wine at dinner – unheard of) asks the owner to try the wines and guess what they are. The owner is very charismatic and I enjoyed having him at the table for a while, but the game went on forever and I got bored and drifted from the conversation thinking about what I was going to watch on Netflix when I got home…

Eventually the bar is closing and we walk out to get a cab. Typically there are none to be had at that moment and we have to walk around in the cold and intermittent rain for about 30 mins. When we get one I say I’m happy to drop him off on the way home since it seemed unlikely we’d find 2 cabs.

Again he jumps in the front. Seriously WTF?!? So I sit in the back and check Facebook whilst we are stuck in traffic. The cab is deathly silent.

When we get to his place there is no kiss on the cheek goodbye or anything as logistically he ruined his propsects by getting in the front. So I wave him off and say ‘talk soon’ but I wasn’t sure I meant it.

I was reflecting on the date wondering if he was just trying too hard to impress and that’s why it was an average date when I get a txt from him. I actually quite expected it to be a ‘thanks but I don’t think it will work out between us’ msg, but no it was a lovely thanks and goodnight msg.

The next morning I wake up to a txt from him which was one of the weirdest txts I’ve had the morning after a date. It said that he’d forgotten to tell me last night that his favourite dog is a Labrador too (we had spoken about my childhood dog) and that he would like to have one, maybe two. Then he asked would I want a male or female. Hang on, I think this is all moving a bit too fast for me.

WTF?!? When I told a few of my gf’s about this they mostly responded with ‘what did you say he did for work again?’ When I responded with ‘finance’ most nodded their head like they suddenly understood. Apparently finance guys are well known to lack self awareness in these matters…

Great. My future husband will be clueless ;p

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The Awkward One

Lovers at Sunset

Last night I had a very bad date. It was awkward, he was awkward, the whole thing was just wrong.

I hadn’t used RSVP for a while as it was always the same old guys on there and most of them I could talk to on Tinder for free anyway. But a few days ago I logged on and saw some new blood that I decided to contact. I started chatting to this Kiwi guy, 41, 6 foot, had a rugged and manly look to him, divorced but no kids and worked in finance.

We chatted on the phone earlier this week and he sounded fun. We decided to meet up and he said he’d think about where we should go and let me know. Nice, I like it when they plan! We were off to a good start….

The next morning he sends me a txt about 8:30am with his suggestion to meet at a bar at 6:30pm the next night down in the Rocks. I read it, but it was the morning after the awful siege in Sydney so when I arrived at work there was a lot of discussion about that and I got distracted and just forgot to reply to him. At 10:30am he sent another messaging saying ‘not sure if you got my earlier message or not…’ and then he reiterated his suggestion of where to meet.

TWO hours had passed. TWO!!!! Alarm bell 1. I replied giving him a little smack for that by saying ‘yes, but I’ve been busy…’ and told him the venue was good, but let’s make it 7pm. He replied and said ‘yes, 7pm works better for me anyway’. Ok, why did you suggest 6:30pm then?!

Later that day I sent him a message, mostly as I felt a little bad about the morning exchange. He replied an hour later and apologised for the delay in responding. I think we have a clingy one here….

Then on the day of the date I get a txt from him saying ‘looking forward to our date tonight?’ YES it was a question. Who does that? You can tell me that you are looking forward to the date, but do you really need me to stroke your ego by asking if I’m looking forward to meeting you?

When I get to the bar I immediately notice that he is short. Admittedly I’m wearing heels, but he is definitely not 6 foot. I think 5’11” at best. They always add an extra inch….

He says hello and smiles at me and oh fuck, he has a great big gap between his teeth. Now, you all must know how much that would thrill me with ‘nice teeth’ being in my Top 5 criteria. How did I miss this?!? Did his pics not have his teeth showing? Why wasn’t I prepared for this? I’ve really let my dating game slip lately…

That bar was too busy, so we walked to another around the corner and there was one free table so he suggested I grab it and he’d get us some drinks. I said I’d have a NZ Sav Blanc and I went to sit down, keeping an eye on him so he didn’t roofie my drink of course. When he returns, he’s got two glasses of red and says ‘you said Shiraz didn’t you?’ looking all hopeful. No. How did you fuck that up man?!

I thought to myself oh whatever, if you finish this drink quick you can be back and in the car before the all night rate at the car park kicks in. We sit and chat awkwardly and I can’t help but notice a lot of attractive tall men at the bar that I would rather be talking to. At one point a guy that must have been 7 foot walks in and catches my eye and I even said to my date ‘geeze that guy is tall’. That was probably a little mean…

As we chat I can’t stop looking at his teeth, but also his hands. He has really stumpy fingers. They don’t seem to match his body at all. I wonder why…..oh ok, I’m back in the room. He’s asked me something and is looking at me awaiting my answer. Ooopps….

The conversation moves on to cars and I tell him that I’ve been looking at new cars lately and what they all were. He tells me he doesn’t care much for spending money on new cars, that they are a complete waste of money, a depreciating asset blah blah. This is an irreconcilable difference! I love nice cars and the rational side of me knows that they are money pits, but I enjoy them so it’s worth the cash. We clearly have no relationship potential at all!

The conversation improves a bit after that and when he finishes his wine he asks if I’d like to get some food. I have no idea why, but I say sure and he goes let’s head off to get some at the Opera Bar. Oh crap, that’s like a 5 min walk from here and we are getting further and further away from my car…

As we walk around the harbour towards the Opera House we are chatting about really non-interesting things when he grabs my hand and holds it. WTF? There has been no signs that this is on the cards. There were no flirty eyes, no cheeky banter, nothing! I know it sounds awful, but I immediately look at the people at the outdoor seating of the restaurants along the water and think ‘crap, do I know anyone in there?’

He must sense my discomfort and immediately says ‘I hope that’s ok’. I reply ‘no’ and pull my hand away and then add ‘it’s a bit too early’. We then walk on in uncomfortable silence whilst I sing Bon Jovi’s ‘shot down in a blaze of glory’ in my head.

We get to the bar and I’m so regretting not abandoning the sinking ship after the wine. We order, I try to go halves as I know I’m never going to see this guy again, but he won’t let me pay at all. I suggest going to the bar to get us drinks, but he says no he’ll get them and when I insist he says he doesn’t know what he wants. We go to the bar together and order and I pretty much force the bar lady to take my cash as he is still trying to pay.

He finds us a nice table with some comfy chairs looking straight at the harbour bridge and it would have been lovely had I been with someone I liked! The food takes forever to arrive and when it does it is terrible. When we are talking he is an Interrupter, otherwise we are sitting there in silence.

It turns 9pm and I tell him that I must be off as the car park will close soon and I won’t be able to get my car out. We head off and I am so disinterested in him that I decide to pull a pair of flats out of my bag and change out of my heels as I’m worried I’m getting a blister and he isn’t worth the pain! I even do it in a really non-classy way on the side of the path in front of him.

We get to the car park entry, I kiss him on the cheek and head off. I get a txt soon after from him asking if I’d like to see him again. It’s been minutes since I was last seeing him!

I didn’t reply last night and intended to send the thanks but no thanks message this morning but again I forgot about this poor bugger. I got a message at lunchtime from him asking if I was ok. Oh dear….