I like to think I make good decisions. Ok, well I like to think I make decisions. But do you ever question your decision making ability? And wonder what the hell you were thinking when you decided on something?

Two specific summer dates had me feeling that way and they happened right after each other. Like, a day apart. It was a questionable moment for sure.

The first was with Canadian Whole Foods Manager – now, who wouldn’t want a Whole Foods discount?! But when during our date he uttered the words “it doesn’t bother me that you’re older” – he was only 27 for God’s sake! – I figured I’d be ok to pay full price for the pre-peeled oranges they sell in those plastic tubs. (Jokes, I do not buy those!)

After we’d enjoyed some pretty good tacos, which I’m always a fan of for a first date (seeing how down and dirty someone is happy to get eating tacos is important to me), we split the bill with no offer from him to pay, and I already knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

He didn’t seem to have a whole lot going on in his life outside of his work and his love of photography. At least he did have a passion and he showed me some great photos on his instagram but there just wasn’t a lot else… Interestingly he said the same about his brother, whom he lived with.

He did say he wanted to move downtown from the suburb he lived in – his brother did not – but there didn’t seem to be any concrete plans for that to happen. And I was pretty sure I wasn’t ever likely to go out and visit him in in the burbs.

Despite age not normally being an issue for me, he did seem young, which made it hard to ignore. I didn’t feel like there was a lot of life experience there and that, more so than a year of birth, is important to me.

Talk over dinner was also a little bit painful, it felt laboured, and forced, and not totally fun. I wasn’t drinking, so that didn’t help and when he ordered a second beer, I kinda wanted to leave him to finish it by himself.

Instead I politely stayed but was looking forward to getting out of there and making my way home. Of course, as is always the way, it took ages to get our bill and then another age to pay. When we did eventually get outside, I immediately started to say goodbye and told him I was going to walk along the seawall, knowing he and his bike would be getting the skytrain back to where he lived. What I hadn’t banked on was him piping up with “I can walk with you and get on at a later skytrain station”. Oh god, great.

So we walked the seawall and, similarly to when Whistler Teacher Stroke Photographer walked with me, the awkwardness and my hatred for walking with a bike reared its head. It was a stilted walk along what would otherwise have been a quick route home for me.

Add to that the fact that half way along he suggested one of the views was too good for him not to take a photo of and so we stopped and he got out his camera. It was a beautiful evening, but one I’d have rather been spending by myself. Instead we also sat on a bench looking out over the water. He asked me what I was looking for in a relationship and seemed to be trying to get the conversation to a serious place.

Just as I was trying to make a joke and get us away from what I knew was futile territory – it didn’t matter what I was looking for in a partner, it wasn’t him – he did something I hadn’t been expecting. He leaned over and kissed me.

It was bold and unexpected. And, despite it not being coveted, I had to give him props for having the balls to do it. But why is it that the ones you don’t want to kiss you tend to be the ones that actually do?!

As our awkward walk home came to an end when we finally got to my turnoff, he asked if we could see each other again. I had to say no.

It was one of those times that not only did I know it was kinder to be honest, I couldn’t have lied if I’d wanted to. That was how strongly I felt about it. I like to think I’m a good liar, when I need to be – though no one should lie, lying is bad kids – but I can also find it hard to hide my true feelings from my face and this was definitely one of those moments.

He took it pretty well and said he felt we needed another date to get to know each other better. I agreed to disagree, to which he replied that maybe we could still go on some hikes together or go away for the weekend camping… I mumbled something about being busy with work. And with that final, awkward exchange, we had a brief hug and I breathed a sigh of relief as I made my way up the steps to Cambie Bridge.

With that not so great date behind me, I was apprehensive going into my next first date of the week the very next day. It was also a taco date – seriously, I’m a fan – but this time it was much closer to home. In fact we discovered he lived only a couple of blocks from me so I walked by his place on the way to the taco place and we walked together.

Mexican EDM Performer – yah this one I didn’t see coming either – was definitely an interesting guy. Not least because as I walked along the street towards his place, before seeing him I first of all saw his incredibly tight, ripped jeans and an equally tight, deep V white t-shirt with some god awful neon design on it and what I was pretty sure was some sort of diamante or sequin.

Lord, what have I done?

I know they say you should never judge a book by its cover, but this cover was definitely not my style and I was struggling to see past it.

Thankfully he actually was lovely, he had a lot of energy, and was pretty good fun and obviously loved what he did. And I realised that because he spent a good 45 minutes, at least, over dinner telling me all about his rise to fame as an EDM performer. And showing me photos and videos!!! It felt more than a little self-indulgent.

Now, in my naivety, I assumed he was a DJ. EDM – Electronic Dance Music. Performer – he played it? No? No. What he actually did was a light show that he would install and perform with a DJ. He also had these crazy ass robots that would perform to music as well. They legit looked like Iron Man costumes. So I guess the videos were necessary considering it sounds insane.

Dinner was good, I mean tacos are always good, and the conversation was easy, plus he paid, but as he talked about his lifestyle and how much he travelled, I just wasn’t sure even the inside of this book matched my style.

We had a couple of margaritas with dinner – I learnt my lesson from not drinking the night before – but when he suggested going somewhere else after for more drinks I politely declined. He made a comment in reply about me being Scottish and Scottish people always wanting to drink but it wasn’t that I didn’t want to drink, I just didn’t want to drink with him.

With the previous night’s failed date so recent in my memory as well, I realised I needed to protect my time better. There’s being polite but then there’s also just flat out wasting your time. And this felt like it would be the latter.

He finished up the date by inviting me out on a boat for the Canada Day fireworks the coming weekend, and I politely said I’d let him know while actually having no intention of going. When he texted me the details later that night, I’d been hoping for some glamorous yacht but it turned out it was one of the party boats that tend to get filled up with the type of people I wouldn’t want to be stuck on a boat with. So the decision was locked in and I explained I had other plans that wouldn’t work with the time the boat was leaving – not entirely a lie. That was the last time we messaged.

And so, that was the two days of two failed dates and it felt kinda brutal. Looking back, I’d known neither of those guys were my type, I wasn’t super attracted to either of them in their pictures, but I figured maybe I should go outside my comfort zone. Welp, that didn’t work.

Sometimes, I feel like I’d like Jesus to take the wheel and make all my dating decisions. Is that something he can do? Or maybe I just need to employ the WWJD mantra going forward…

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