I could try to make a good first impression, but ‘crazy’ has really worked for me in the past…

I haven’t written in a year, so the obvious place to go for material was Bumble. For those of you that don’t know, Bumble is like Tinder for attractive people with careers, and the catch is that women have to say ‘hello’ first.
I’ll be honest, I have no interest in meeting anyone from the dating app, in fact, I’m pretty sure my mother had a long talk with me about not meeting people from the internet when I was 12. Something about stranger-danger/ they could be shorter in real life and that would be super awkward.
It’s not that I’m against dating apps, I just prefer to meet men the old fashioned way… drunk in a crowded bar.
Anyways, I went and trolled Bumble to see how many guys would answer me if I made a terrible first impression.

MICHAEL – Finance Guy
Info: Likes wine, is 6ft tall
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Did he answer? He did! He said that unfortunately he can’t commit as long as whisky, rye and beer are in the picture. Someone who doesn’t want to commit on Bumble? Unheard of.

CHRISTOPHER – Advertising Guy
Info: 6ft tall, saves puppies, some random other stuff
Distance: 643 meters away
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Did he answer? He did! He said, “Of course I was close, but a good stalker never reveals their secrets” So, he was blocked…

ADAM – No occupation
Info: Master of life, lover of sangria and fireplaces
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Did he answer? He did not. So I will say that it was indeed an arsonist type of love and all for the better, this way my deductible stays low.

JOHN – Director
Info: Love staying active, wanderlust, cooking, food, bourbon, wine, beer
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Did he answer? He did not. Which is all the same because he seemed far too happy with life for my liking.

JORGE – IT Guy
I won’t lie, I may have been drinking with this one.
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Did he answer? He did! As shown above he went straight for my heart with tacos and coffee.

ZED – Finance Guy
Info: Swipe right for free puppy!
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Did he answer? He did not! I think this may have been a scam…

JOHN – Consultant
Info: Likes puns
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Did he answer? He did! He said he was both… so… if that’s your thing let me know.

NEIL – Finance Guy
Info: “Will make you laugh”
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Did he answer? He did not. Typical Neil though, full of empty promises.

CAMERON – Pilot
No info, but had a photo of him and (not his) dog.
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Did he answer? He did not. I bet he’s probably involved in the same puppy scam as Zed.

LIAM – Lawyer
No info, but I have a bit of a soft spot for lawyers.
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Did he answer? As you can see we had a very fruitful exchange, although his advice makes me worry about his actual clients…

I let one of the guys in on my game, he said he answered me because I said something other than “Hi, how are you?” Then he sent me the screenshot below, and I can sleep happy knowing I will never be that girl.
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Trying to be friends with an ex is a special kind of hell…

I think one of the craziest things about the breakup with Grant is that in a matter of three days he went from being someone I confided everything in, to someone I wasn’t even facebook friends with. During the breakup Grant had said he wanted to stay friends, which seemed absurd considering while he was speaking I was imagining my own episode of Dateline;
“And why on the same day that Grant disappeared had Becca bought a shovel? She claims it was a coincidence, she had simply decided to take up gardening. But it was well known that Becca hated the outdoors unless it involved a patio and vodka. Her alibi was falling apart…”
I couldn’t imagine phoning him to chat about work and pretend like I was ok with everything that had happened. So I said no to being friends… well, technically I said a lot of profanities that added up to “no”.

Right after the breakup with Grant, I was trying to rationalize everything (because breakups always make perfect sense). I needed to figure out what I could have done wrong, so I phoned the one person I knew would tell me. I phoned Parker. I know it seems weird to go to your old-ex and ask how to get your new-ex back, and it was. It was super weird.

My life is not a romantic comedy. If it were, this story would end with Parker and his British accent riding in on a white horse, and us riding off into the sun together. It would be perfect, except I’m terrified of horses and I’m really pale, so the sun is my sworn enemy.
Parker was great to talk about the breakup with because he wasn’t nice about it. He gave me the kick in the ass I needed (not literally, just to be clear, no violence occurred). He reminded me that I’m more Rihanna than June Cleaver, and what Grant considered my weaknesses are actually my strengths. Most importantly, he told me to stop feeling sorry for myself… then he drove off in his white car into the night, alone.

My relationship and friendship with Grant is done, much like this bottle of Prosecco I just drank… But I hope he’s doing well (just not as well as I am) and I hope he’s happy (just not as happy as I am) and I hope he finds someone really nice one day (that’s a lie, I hope she’s insane and writes about him on the internet…).

 

If you don’t laugh at my joke, I will repeat it at least 4 more times just to make sure you heard it correctly.

Obviously I’m hilarious, I’m also a bit delusional though so I might only be moderately funny, either way I crack myself up. One of the things that attracted me to Grant was that he had a good sense of humour and never took anything too seriously. He could match me pretty well for jokes, and it’s important to note that I’m very sarcastic (if you hadn’t noticed). I only mean about 70% of what I say, which is great when people understand that. Grant understood and would laugh, but towards the end he took all of my jokes seriously, which was frightening since I said and did some pretty crazy things.

There was the everyday sarcasm, like when he asked me why I always chose to wear black and I responded, “well it’s because it matches my soul.”  Or how I put a nutcracker holding a knife in the kitchen for him to find in the morning when he got up to make breakfast (it was meant to be helpful).

There were also the more elaborate jokes that he didn’t laugh at, like when I went into the bedroom the night before he was going on a trip. He had just gone to bed about five minutes earlier and all the lights were out, I crept in and began to whisper to him;
Me – “Grant… are you awake? Grant…”
Grant – “What is it?”
Me – “I was just wondering… since you’re going away, I thought maybe you’d like a lock of my hair?”
Grant – “What? Why?”
Me – “Well to remember me, obviously.”
Grant – “No.”
Me – “Oh… ok. Well can I have a lock of your hair then?”
Grant – “What? No!”
Me – “Ok, it’s ok. You just go to sleep, I’ll just cut a small piece from the back, you won’t even know.”
Grant – “No! Stop, it’s enough.”
Me – “Ok, Goodnight babe… I’ll be right back. I’m definitely not going to get the scissors.”

But the funniest thing of all happened during the breakup, Grant suddenly laughed at my jokes again. It was rounding the second hour of the breakup and it was clear at this point the relationship was over. We were sitting in the living room in silence when I made a sarcastic remark and he genuinely laughed. I was caught off guard because I hadn’t heard him laugh at something I’d said in weeks.
I asked him, “Oh, you think I’m funny again?”  and he replied, “I’ve always thought you were funny.”  I asked him to tell me the last time he had laughed at one of my jokes. He couldn’t do it.

In hindsight it was simply another sign I was ignoring that something was wrong. But the upside is that now I have the opportunity to charm other men with my sarcastic and often borderline-crazy humour, and hopefully they’ll laugh… or call the police, either way it will make a good post.

“That’s not what the psychic said!!” – Turns out, not a valid argument

Rumours – I love and hate them at the same time. There’s something that makes you feel undeniably like a teenager when someone has really good gossip for you. Sometimes I’m grateful people gossip because it can save you from awkward situations, like the one in my work meeting the other day.
As I sat down in the boardroom one of the women looked across the table and said “So are you ready for the gala this weekend?”  I knew what was coming next, it was so obvious, but I simply said “Yes.”
She quickly followed up with, “Do I finally get to meet your man?!” A co-worker beside her was visibly uncomfortable. I smiled politely and said “He actually won’t be able to attend, he already has plans in hell.”  Not really, people at work already think I’m a touch unstable, I just said that we broke up. We proceeded with the meeting which included the topics of Valentine’s Day and what couples like to do. I didn’t have many constructive ideas to contribute.

I’m guilty of precipitating rumours with my writing it’s what I’ve always done though (I’m kind of like the Taylor Swift of the blog world, except for the famous, rich, blond and dating celebrities part). The day after the breakup I wanted answers so badly I went to a psychic and had her do a tarot card reading. I didn’t like what she told me, although it’s what I had been theorizing, but how could I phone Grant up and start yelling at him for something the universe said. I walk a fine line, but I have limits to my crazy.

One thing I didn’t expect is that Grant would be telling people what happened during our Chernobyl of a breakup. I sat down for dinner with my friend who recounted the events of that fateful day to me. When I asked how he knew, he said that a girl I didn’t know told him, she had run into a girl at a bar who knows Grant, and heard about it from her. Apparently the girl just wanted to know if I was ok, which is thoughtful for a stranger. If I were actually Taylor Swift I would send her a gift basket of some sort, but I’m not, and I’ve just added vodka and shoes back into my budget, so money’s a bit tight.

I’ve had to work hard to not listen to the rumours and the theories people have for me. I feel like if I start to believe them I will turn into Carrie from Homeland and transform my living room wall into a giant investigation board.
There’re two sides to every story, I have mine and Grant has his. Somewhere in the middle is the truth. I will of course always prefer my version, unless Grant describes himself using the same profanities I do, then maybe I would like his version too.

Being nervous around the person you’re dating feels like reading a never-ending Choose Your Own Adventure book.

Parker was a man I pseudo-dated before I met Grant (if you’re wondering what pseudo-dating is, it’s basically seeing each other on a regular basis for an extended period of time, hanging out, having the occasional dinners and sleeping together, but never committing to anything resembling an actual relationship). Parker is quite the catch – funny, intelligent, charming, very attractive, kind, employed, athletic and he has a British accent just to top it off.
I pseudo-dated Parker for six months but I was still nervous around him. When we were together I would repeat a fun chant in my head to the effect of ‘be breezy, be calm, stop shaking, I bet he saw you shaking, shut up brain, be breezy…’

I wanted our pseudo-dates to be perfect, and I remember one particular dinner that stands out for this. I had just come back from a weekend away, he picked me up and we went to a restaurant, I ordered a salad and he had a burger. Everything was going swimmingly until about a quarter of the way through my salad when I saw a black hair. Parker was about half way done his burger and I played out two options in my head;
A) I could call the waitress over and point out the hair. She would take my salad and insist on replacing it. I did not want another salad, but if I refused that would mean I basically didn’t get to eat dinner. But by the time they brought out a new salad for me, Parker would probably be done his burger. The hair was also sure to be the only thing we remembered about the evening.
B) I could wait for him to look down and take a bite of his food, then pull the hair out of my salad and pretend nothing happened. It didn’t look long anyway, and this way our evening wouldn’t be ruined.
I chose option B, and I regret it every day. It wasn’t a short hair it was a very long hair. But now I’d taken it out so I couldn’t very well put it back in and call the waitress over. So I ate around the outside of my salad and chanted in my head to ‘be breezy’.

One of the reasons I fell for Grant was because he was the spazzy one.
The first time he phoned to ask me out he opened with “I’ve just given blood and I’m kind of light headed, so I think I’ve worked up the courage to ask if you would maybe like to get a drink sometime? You can say no.”
On our second date we were supposed to meet halfway between our places to walk to a restaurant for dinner. Enroute to meet him he called me and said, “would you be able to please go home and get some band aids, I’ve tripped over the curb and my toe is bleeding quite badly.”  When I met him he wasn’t lying, there was blood everywhere and we had to stop and administer first-aid in the street.
I was comfortable with Grant, I was calm, I was the breezy one without even having to try. And I loved it.

I’m just going to keep talking and make this date even more awkward than we thought it could be…

When I try to “play it cool” I suddenly feel like I’m back to being an awkward 13 year-old standing in front of my French class. “Cool” is a second language to me, and although I’ve tried in vain to present myself that way before, I will always be a very clumsy girl who tends to over-think and over-share in awkward situations. I’ve come to accept this (and I will tell you that it actually takes talent to trip over nothing).  The fact is that I can only laugh at myself, because if I took myself seriously I would spend every day in bed, under the covers.

Case in point – my second date with Brent. Now, although I foreshadowed a tragic ending to the 3 months I dated Brent, things actually started out really well.  The first date had been great, he is a gentleman when he wants to be and has excellent date etiquette. But this second date was already putting me out of my comfort zone because it was a lunch date, which meant it was in the middle of the day. I am not used to being out at the same time as the sun; I enjoy the mask of darkness on a date.

The actual lunch portion of the date was typical with decent conversation, but here’s where I go off the tracks. After lunch he offers to walk me home (because he’s a gentleman and doesn’t want me to get attacked in the daylight). I live downtown and walk everywhere, this restaurant was honestly 3 blocks from my place. Somehow we walked past my street and I didn’t notice until we were two blocks past it…. then I spent another 4 blocks trying to decide if I was going to tell him or if I was just going to pick a random building and pretend I lived there. (I swear I’m not an idiot, I was just busy over-thinking things). The problem with picking a random building was that my key wouldn’t work in the door, and then I thought that would be even harder to explain. So 6 blocks past my street I finally told him I lived waaaay back the other way.

Then things got worse when we actually got to my building. We hadn’t kissed on the first date; naturally I figure this date would end with a kiss. Except it was the middle of the day and I wasn’t entirely sure what ‘day date’ protocol is regarding a first kiss. I thanked him for a nice time and I thought he was just giving me a hug goodbye, so I turned my head away returning the hug – unfortunately realizing too late that he was actually trying to kiss me. I jerked my head back trying to fix the situation, over-correcting a little too much and ended up kissing his nose. (Dear god.) He actually said “Wow that was terrible.”(It really was.) So we tried again, with much more success the second time, but being the spaz that I am I decided to end the date by saying, “Ok, I should probably go inside because my neighbours are going to be like ‘Really Becca? Making out in front of the building… again?!’”. He smiled politely, humoring me…
I was a little unsure why he actually called me for another date, but I like to think I came off as endearing.  And the great thing was that I knew he actually wanted to go out with me, and not a ‘cool girl’ version of me.