How I Met Your Father: Avoiding the non-date trap

Kids, as hard as I tried to avoid it, sometimes I unknowingly fell into the non-date trap and each time, I swore it would be the goddamn last!

dutch
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Gather around and let me tell you about the loser who wasted my time in 2017…

March 2017:

Mr Church Spin Doctor was a 31-year-old good-looking guy, who worked as a communications officer for the Catholic Church. He’d travelled the world over and even lived in Japan for three years.

He loved reading and initially contacted me to trade favourite books and author stories. I liked his style because unlike the previous airheads/sex crazed online suitors, Mr Spin Doctor seemed to be worth talking to.

When he quickly moved to wanting to meet me, I was a little hesitant but he followed up with a “this is how I read people” track.

Now, and I f***ing stress this,  he asked me out on a date, as evidenced from the below exchange:

OkCupid Spin Doctor

To further stress my point, the Wkipedia dictionary definition of a date is as follows:

A first date is any type of initial meeting between two individuals, whether or not previously acquainted, where an effort is made to ask, plan, and organize some sort of social activity.

Then, who pays for said first date, is defined  by UK.Match.Com as:

dating advice from uk.match

Fast forward to the agreed date (which he started with a big body melting hug) and things were progressing well at The Village Idiot in the City Centre.

We laughed and chatted a mile a minute about anything and everything over a few drinks: travels, family, Game of Thrones, comic books, movies and work.

I may not have felt an instantaneous convergence, as that previous non-date of mine pointed out pointed out, but I liked Mr Spin Doctor enough to consider a second date. Especially, considering that according to him, this was a first date, right?!

Wrong…

Somewhere between me excusing myself to go to the Ladies and coming back to the table, Jackass Deluxe decided that this wasn’t going anywhere and called for the bill.

Which he then looked at closely to calculate how much he owed (because, “Fazielah, I only brought enough for my own drinks and yeah, I drank the most”) and passed it over to me for my portion.

Wait, what?!

I refer you back to the definition of a date as above. May I also point out here that social etiquette dictates that when you invite someone out, you, the inviter are responsible for the payment of the bill?

I wasn’t so furious about the money ( because I always carry enough cash to pay for emergencies)  as I was by the utter audacity of it. He explicitly called it a DATE , for f***’s sake and now he was pulling the “let’s go dutch” card???!!!

Hells to the f*** NO!

As if I wasn’t humiliated enough, the brother takes it up another notch by… wait for it… seeing me off with a wave!

A f***ing wave, guys!

Never mind the time I took out of my very busy schedule for this non-date, I’d dolled myself up in a dress and pantyhose.

Not to mention, when I realised I’d forgotten my make-up at home, I rushed back to my apartment after work to splash on some lipstick and mascara. I f***ing put effort into the this non-f***ing date and the jackass had the blatant nerve to stick me with the bill and send me off with a wave.

This shit, Kids, is why I was single for so goddamn long.

As I complained and bitched to my friends Yolisa ( who told me to ditch all the el cheapos and wait for someone worthy of me) and Lee-Anne ( who pointed out that this fool realised he wasn’t getting laid that night and therefore didn’t feel the need to pay for drinks) , I resolved that this would be the last bloody time I dressed up for a non-date.

wonder woman on a date

Next time, I’d wear my Wonder Woman costume!

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