Worst Date Ever

I'm starting to find my 30s a very validating experience.  I've heard people say as you get older you care less about what others think.  True dat.  But I think you also care more about what you think. And if that's confusing, try saying, "I care more about what I think." I honor my feelings now.

Today is the blessed event that calls itself Valentine's Day.  I actually feel immune to the holiday this year.  Maybe it's because I'm performing a show with people I love tonight, and that I'm not some heartbroken hopeless romantic like I used to be.  But maybe my heart has turned black.  Either or.

With age, comes wisdom.  And thank God for that.

When I was 22, I dabbled in online dating.  That's 10 years ago, so your options were limited.  Lavalife allowed you to chat with someone for free, and as most 22 year olds think, I was pretty smart and would have no trouble spotting creeps.  Right?  Wrong!

I became enamoured with a guy who spoke about dark thoughts and troubles.  And, like some 22 year olds think, I thought I could save him.

He showed up 25 minutes late for our date.  I was meeting him at the Saint-Laurent metro station, and I actually waited.  (Mistake #1)

We walked down to the old port and I don't even remember what the conversation was like, only that I thought I was cool because I was on a date.  Eventually our walk led us to the more remote Eastern side of the port, the tourist-free zone by the water.

He told me that he was once on a date and he made a joke to this girl that he could throw her into the water and no one would even notice.  I laughed, even though I thought that was a weird thing to say on a date. (Mistake #2)

We made our way to a restaurant near the Eaton centre, Bocaccino's I think.  We ordered food and at the end of the meal I watched him sop up butter with his fingers which he then put into his mouth.  As if that's a normal thing to do in public.

It's at this point I made the best decision possible.  A choice I should have made a long time ago.  I excused myself to go to the bathroom and called my best pal Tasha.  I explained to her the situation and we decided she would call me in 2 minutes with a crisis.  That was my out.  A fake crisis that I needed to go deal with.  Because that's the most polite thing I could think of.

The date was probably over anyway, but I hadn't been on many and I didn't know end of night procedures.  I basically booked it out of there and counted my blessings that I wasn't tossed into the Saint-Lawrence river.

Today, 10 years later, a date like that would have looked a lot different.  I would have gone home after 15 minutes.  Ain't nobody got time for that!

Happy Valentine's Day.

Katie

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