So this story is way past due, seeing as it happened in Feb 2014. In all fairness, it was delayed because it was pretty bad and I left all traces of dating for more than a year after that.
The beginning of this starts with the customary messages back and forth online an then moves towards texting. Nothing stuck out about the messages that set off alarms bells or my women's intuition; the intuition that is firmly rooted in the town of I-Told-You-So.
We decided to meet up at a bar/pub on a Saturday night for drinks. I went shopping with some co-workers and spent the better half of 2 hours trying to put together a nice outfit for the evening. He tells me that he loves a girl in heels. I begrudgingly remove my flat boots in the car and but on a LOW-heeled boot. Relationships are about compromise, right?
Check my determination out. This Saturday happened to be one of the coldest nights of the year, and well ever. No hyperbole! Don't believe me? Click here. It was -25C without the windchill, -40c with on Feb 15th.
A little about my date for the evening. His profile says he's a Caucasian male, 5'8" (make note of this for later) and he's laid back, down to earth, blah blah blah.... same stuff you find on ALL of the profiles. Legit, they all say the same two things; they're laid back and down to earth. I've decided that if I find the profile where the guy says he's uptight and out in space, I'll get on my Carly Rae Jepson flex and just send him my number. Straight out of the gate. No small talk, just, "Hey, I never met you, and this is crazy..." Off topic, sorry. He lives downtown near the lake, in a condo and he tells me to park at his building, the bar is close by.
I'm running a bit late, because it's snowing out, but I'm Canadian and I will not shy away from a snow storm. So, I park at his building and tell him that I'm in the lobby. Bruh, what met me in that lobby... *twitch*
Disclaimer: I know that people come in all shapes and SIZES, but be real with yourself. I know that I'm, at best, 5'4", might even fudge it to 5'4 1/2". I would not put that I was 5'9" on my profile. Because if you, as a person with your own personal preferences, do not prefer people of my short stature, you will probably not message me/respond to me. Right? Right.
This man was never, 5'8" at any point in time in his life. He was 5'3" at best. In the heels, that he asked me to wear, I could see the top of his head. I could also see that he looked like he just rolled off his couch and put on a coat. He had on a leather jacket, with a Led Zepplin t-shirt and some jeans that had passed their best before date by a year or two.
Men, listen, as a woman, there is nothing more frustrating than going all out on your outfit and make-up, only to find that the best your date could do was put on some semblance of a pair of pants; not because he wanted to, but because the law requires it.... and pantslessness (not a word, made it up just for this) is frowned upon in dining establishments.
His shape and size, so sorely reminded me of Sam, from the Lord of the Rings; including the way that he walked. But he had a cute face and nice smile, so! This is how I began my date with... The Hobbit. Stay tuned, part 2 tomorrow.
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