Meet Date #17 - I wish...
Hello all! I feel like I've been on a dating hiatus ever since my three dates with The Z Man. Did he and his ex jinx me? Probably. So to get out of my dating rut, I immediately went online, chatted up a few cuties, selected the least desperate one and here we are: Date #17 - The Hockey Player.
Because we met online, there's no real good background to this one - all I knew was that he was cute, very much into hockey, kept me interested by keeping up great conversations online and in text (which is actually so difficult to do, especially right at the beginning on any new relationship) and that he had good grammar. So for a minute, I was actually quite intrigued to meet this guy. We decided to meet after I finished work and check out Earl's Kitchen, one of Toronto's most happening bars, full of suits, the most eligible bachelors and/or cheating bastards. Perfect, I thought. If it doesn't work out with The Hockey Player, I can always find another option. Imagine. That would be so badass. Moving on...prior to the date, he mentioned that he had a dentist appointment but he would be ready by 6pm. No problem there, I finished work at 530 - so I powdered my nose, touched up my nails and anxiously waited the extra half hour.
6pm rolled around - no word. I hadn't heard from him for at least an hour at that point. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I messaged "hello?"... Nothing. I shook my head in silence and gave the kid a 15 minutes grace period before I peaced the eff out. 6:13pm a message - he just got out of the dentist but needed another 15 minutes to get ready. Uh huh. I have zero patience (I'm working on this, I swear!!) but at least he wasn't bailing. A part of me, though, wanted to very badly. I waited some more, sucked it up and headed to Earl's where he was waiting.
As I approached the awkward man standing outside of a packed bar, I was thankful that my Date #17 actually looked like he did in his pics. Bonus. And he was tall, and definitely supported 'hockey player' type features (minus the black eyes and broken teeth). We, along with the rest of Toronto, tried our luck at getting a seat at Earl's. It was absolutely packed. With suits. I had to actively stop myself from checking out every man in sight. Note to self: come back EVERY Thursday. Needless to say there was no room whatsoever and the wait time was over an hour. So we decided to head up the street to a less-overwhelming atmosphere - to one of the many Firkin & Bulls or Pheasants or Ducks or Cows or whatever they are... one of those bars.
At first, I couldn't tell if he was nervous, or just a douche because he wouldn't look me directly in the eye, and acted a bit standoffish. But naturally once the brew kicked in, all was well in the land of dating/ liquid courage. He was definitely a chatty Cathy which I appreciate. An Ottawa native, I could tell right away from his tone of voice and character - he really reminded me of my many Ottawite friends and I thought how great he'd get along with them (if he was so lucky to meet them). He loves house music, traveling and hockey. The more I got to talking with him the more he reminded me of someone I knew very well. Oh yeah...that someone was ME. He was actually me; male version. It kind of freaked me right out. The things he would say, I would say. Reaction to certain situations he's been in, I would react in the same way. We shared the same sarcasm and dry sense of humour. The world with two La Blondes could either be a blessing or a complete fucking disaster, especially a male version. He also drinks, like, all the the time and listed the many Vegas vacations, all-inclusive getaways, boat and cottage parties he's blacked out to and all the house concerts he will be attending this summer. A complete frat boy - fuck, where were you in my early 20s?
Inevitably, we got to chatting about our past/ current dating life. Again, with the help of a little liquid courage, he told me that back in December he noticed my profile and had sent me a message. I guess I must have missed it, because I never responded. Annoyed, he deleted his profile. Fast forward a couple of months, he re-signed up and there appeared my profile again for the attacking... and the rest is Date #17.
In conclusion, I rated the date a 7 of 10 (huge!) He's super fun, probably not my husband (how many times have I said that before?) but I definitely was interested in giving this puck star another chance. At this point we had chatted for four hours straight and I had a long subway ride home ahead of me. He asked to see me again soon and I happily accepted.
He walked me to the subway stop, we hugged and went our separate ways. I was excited at the prospect of this one, mainly because dating myself would be super cool, but I promised not to get too excited about any date I go on... You just never know. Not to mention, I'm prone to having a third date curse.
Love to get your feedback...
A bientôt mes amis!
La Blonde xx
Because we met online, there's no real good background to this one - all I knew was that he was cute, very much into hockey, kept me interested by keeping up great conversations online and in text (which is actually so difficult to do, especially right at the beginning on any new relationship) and that he had good grammar. So for a minute, I was actually quite intrigued to meet this guy. We decided to meet after I finished work and check out Earl's Kitchen, one of Toronto's most happening bars, full of suits, the most eligible bachelors and/or cheating bastards. Perfect, I thought. If it doesn't work out with The Hockey Player, I can always find another option. Imagine. That would be so badass. Moving on...prior to the date, he mentioned that he had a dentist appointment but he would be ready by 6pm. No problem there, I finished work at 530 - so I powdered my nose, touched up my nails and anxiously waited the extra half hour.
6pm rolled around - no word. I hadn't heard from him for at least an hour at that point. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I messaged "hello?"... Nothing. I shook my head in silence and gave the kid a 15 minutes grace period before I peaced the eff out. 6:13pm a message - he just got out of the dentist but needed another 15 minutes to get ready. Uh huh. I have zero patience (I'm working on this, I swear!!) but at least he wasn't bailing. A part of me, though, wanted to very badly. I waited some more, sucked it up and headed to Earl's where he was waiting.
As I approached the awkward man standing outside of a packed bar, I was thankful that my Date #17 actually looked like he did in his pics. Bonus. And he was tall, and definitely supported 'hockey player' type features (minus the black eyes and broken teeth). We, along with the rest of Toronto, tried our luck at getting a seat at Earl's. It was absolutely packed. With suits. I had to actively stop myself from checking out every man in sight. Note to self: come back EVERY Thursday. Needless to say there was no room whatsoever and the wait time was over an hour. So we decided to head up the street to a less-overwhelming atmosphere - to one of the many Firkin & Bulls or Pheasants or Ducks or Cows or whatever they are... one of those bars.
At first, I couldn't tell if he was nervous, or just a douche because he wouldn't look me directly in the eye, and acted a bit standoffish. But naturally once the brew kicked in, all was well in the land of dating/ liquid courage. He was definitely a chatty Cathy which I appreciate. An Ottawa native, I could tell right away from his tone of voice and character - he really reminded me of my many Ottawite friends and I thought how great he'd get along with them (if he was so lucky to meet them). He loves house music, traveling and hockey. The more I got to talking with him the more he reminded me of someone I knew very well. Oh yeah...that someone was ME. He was actually me; male version. It kind of freaked me right out. The things he would say, I would say. Reaction to certain situations he's been in, I would react in the same way. We shared the same sarcasm and dry sense of humour. The world with two La Blondes could either be a blessing or a complete fucking disaster, especially a male version. He also drinks, like, all the the time and listed the many Vegas vacations, all-inclusive getaways, boat and cottage parties he's blacked out to and all the house concerts he will be attending this summer. A complete frat boy - fuck, where were you in my early 20s?
Inevitably, we got to chatting about our past/ current dating life. Again, with the help of a little liquid courage, he told me that back in December he noticed my profile and had sent me a message. I guess I must have missed it, because I never responded. Annoyed, he deleted his profile. Fast forward a couple of months, he re-signed up and there appeared my profile again for the attacking... and the rest is Date #17.
In conclusion, I rated the date a 7 of 10 (huge!) He's super fun, probably not my husband (how many times have I said that before?) but I definitely was interested in giving this puck star another chance. At this point we had chatted for four hours straight and I had a long subway ride home ahead of me. He asked to see me again soon and I happily accepted.
He walked me to the subway stop, we hugged and went our separate ways. I was excited at the prospect of this one, mainly because dating myself would be super cool, but I promised not to get too excited about any date I go on... You just never know. Not to mention, I'm prone to having a third date curse.
Love to get your feedback...
A bientôt mes amis!
La Blonde xx
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