Tuesday, September 20, 2011

What Happened on Your Last Bad Date?

It's been about 20 years, and I think I'm finally over my last bad date.

Our first date was interesting enough for him to call me a few days later and invite me to his apartment for dinner.  He was going to cook.  I met him through an ad he placed in The Globe and Mail, "National Personals" column -- yes, that's how we found discord before eHarmony.  His parents were from Scandinavia and Brooklyn, he was named for a Norse God, and he worked on Bay Street.  He had recently experienced the end of a long relationship and did not want to rush anything with anyone.  I assumed that he placed the ad because he wanted something with someone, and he seemed enthusiastic about getting together again.

I went up to his 15th-story Toronto apartment and he greeted me cautiously.  I recall the small kitchen with an opening to the living room/dining room.  He didn't want me in the kitchen while he cooked, so after chatting briefly, I settled on the sofa.

The window in the living room looked south over the city, the CN Tower in the distance.  The sofa was surrounded by overflowing bookshelves.  A racing bike was in one corner with other sports gear.  On the living room wall, opposite the kitchen were two doors, one to the bathroom and one to his bedroom, both closed.  While I wanted more intimacy, it seemed he now wanted less.  He wanted to concentrate on his swordfish.

I was cold, so I looked around for a blanket.  Not seeing one, I opened the door to his room and grabbed one from his bed.

A few minutes later, he noticed I was reading on the sofa under a blanket.

     "Where'd you get that?"
     "From the bedroom."
     "You went into my bedroom?"
     "I was cold.  I couldn't find a blanket."
     "You went into my bedroom!!  You're not f**king allowed in my bedroom!!"

After that exchange, I couldn't get to the elevator fast enough.  I never tasted the swordfish, and eschewed that unkind cut of fish for the next 20 years.

-- until a couple of weeks ago when my current husband, ignored my anti-swordfish stance and grilled some swordfish steaks.  They were delicious.  I was finally over my last worst date.


  1. "He sounds like a cold fish. I doubt his sword was worth much... my blanket statement."

  2. KM wrote via Linked In: "It was a bust."