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.

When a guy is saying he’s a ‘nice guy’, I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself of this supposed fact…

You know when you’re sitting enjoying a soda at the diner, and a 6’2” good looking, all-American guy walks up to you and says he wants to take you out for dinner and movie? He shows up at your house with flowers and chocolates, and you have your cardigan tied around your shoulders in case it gets a bit chilly later… oh wait… that was 1945.
It seems that a large amount of men have chosen to ‘swipe left’ when it comes to effort and even getting up the energy to go on a date anymore. And I’m looking to blame you Tinder. I’m not saying that Tinder and I never had a thing, but I’m saying it’s taken an already dire situation and made it worse. Laziness and entitlement have joined forces to somehow make it ok for men to approach women, who are perfect strangers, and proposition them for sex. I know this has sort of always gone on, but it’s now gone main stream.
I give you my weekend and the lovely pick-up lines that were used to woo me (this is in an upscale lounge).

Guy 1
Decent looking man, very clean cut, about 30-35, Pilot
Him – I really like your smile
Me – Thanks, I like smiling. It’s my favourite.
Him – Well watching you smile is my favourite.
Me – **blank stare**
Him – Do you like the thrill of doing something crazy and adventurous?!!
Me – ooo, like meth?!
Him – um…. No. Like sleep with a pilot while he’s on a layover in the city…
Me – Oh… um… are you the pilot?
Him – Yes.
Me – No thank you.

Guy 2
Good looking, broody, with dark features, about 30, Actor
Him – Why are you here?
Me – Oh, well I’m staying at the hotel next door for the weekend.
Him – Why?
Me – Because I like it.
Him – I don’t.
Me – Then why are you here?
Him – Because there are hot girls here who have rooms for the night and they leave the next day.
Me – Alright. I’m going to go ahead and turn this way now.

Guy 3
God’s gift to women… if he was trying to punish us. Good looking, probably 32ish, professional.
Him – I’m very successful.
Me – Well that’s good.
Him – But here’s the best part, I’m also really laidback.
Me – Ok.
Him – You don’t find that combination too often, a guy who is driven and successful, but also laidback.
Me – Um… **look away for exit**
Him – So what do you think, should we get out of here? We can go back to my place and put on Netflix. I could use someone to curl up with.
Me – **blank stare** Oh, I’m sorry, were you serious? Yeah, no, never.

I guess the thing is, not one asked to go for coffee, or even fained interest in getting to know me. I suppose I should really be happy that they’re this forward about what they want, it does save me time in the long run figuring out who they really are. But in all seriousness, I wish them all daughters someday.