“Oh no you didn’t!!!”

This GIF perfectly sums up my first ever blind date many moons ago.

I should have known it was going to be an experience and a half when the man who I had been reliably informed was perfect for me, from my own country and a decent citizen showed up in a tracksuit and interesting, balding, suede-type shoes. Instead, I disregarded that and said hello. OK, I lie. His get-up put me off a little but I was there already and he might have turned out to be a nice guy with a  terrible sense of fashion so I said hello.

We walked into a nearby coffee shop and the true entertainment began. The man was very arrogant assertive and stuck in the stone age very conservative. He hardly asked me anything about myself and chose to start out his very first date with me by laying down the law on how a relationship with him should work while I dutifully smiled into my hot chocolate in an effort not to burst out laughing. He told me in no uncertain terms that a woman must cook and clean and do the laundry etc. She must make the house a home. To quote the great man himself, “The way things are now is a result of the westernisation of our people and I would never be caught dead washing pots in my own home. What would you be doing?” His dialogue clearly indicated that my desire/willingness to date him was a foregone conclusion. “I see,” said I with a smile on my face. Perhaps thinking he was on the winning track he confidently added, “Just from your accent I can tell you spend too much time with white people but I can fix that.” I choked on my hot chocolate. Did I mention a “white” friend went to great lengths to convince me to go on a blind date with this “nice guy from her office?” I’ll bet she had no idea what went on in his head.

Because I simply couldn’t resist making the most of the opportunity to test his boundaries I asked him what would happen if he wound up with a girl like me. I work long hours and I get home completely exhausted. I doubt laundry and cooking would be high on my priority list. Would he at least get a maid to help? (Yes, I asked that….with a very straight face). The answer was every bit as delightful as I anticipated. Of course he would get a maid if his wife worked (and definitely not if she didn’t work) ….but there are some things he just won’t accept a maid doing. “Is that so,” said I. “Like what?” In a very assertive tone he declared he would never eat food cooked by a maid and his wife, if she was truly mindful of her duties, must do the cleaning and laundry. At this point, I chuckled. This was highly entertaining.

So I asked, if your wife or woman is doing all that, what are you doing? He said “providing.” He said it like it was self-explanatory. I kept a suitably blank expression on my face until he elaborated. He would pay the rent/bond, buy groceries and pay for all necessities. She would look after him. He said “I bring home the bacon” LOL. He literally said that. I said what happens when I do too. He said “you can use your money for the little trinkets women want like lingerie and stuff” *chuckles*

The second best highlight of the conversation came when I pointed out that I play hockey and I would never be able to cook every night. He replied, “Well, there are some things you just have to give up if you want to be with me.” ROTFL. Enough said.

The highlight came when we were about to leave…

While he entertained me with endless stories about his ex-girlfriend who broke up with him before he made it and who would no doubt be very sorry, I had ordered a started portion of buffalo wings. He insisted he wasn’t hungry. At about the time in the story where his ex listened to her friend that she should expect a birthday gift from her man and she got mad at him ultimately leading to their problems, I offered him some of my wings. He refused with a short “I said, I’m not hungry.”

Just after he accused me of probably having a boyfriend hidden away somewhere but before he peered through all the windows of my car when we got to the parking lot, we got up to leave. As we did so, he noticed I hadn’t eaten the very last wing (if you can even call it that) on my plate. It was just that pinkie finger sized drumstick shaped portion of the wing. It was so small, a hungry beggar would insult you if you gave it to him. I was full and I simply couldn’t take another bite.

He told me to get a doggy bag for it and I politely declined and picked up my coat and bag. You need a doggy bag he said sounding annoyed. I was genuinely surprised. Even as he insisted, he was already looking around for a waiter. More firmly this time, I said that wing is too small to bother with a doggy bag. Let’s just go. “I’m going to look for a waiter,” he replied! Huh? Now I was irritated. “It’s a tiny wing. There is no point in getting a doggy bag. Can we just go.” “Imari yauri kuedza kusiya patable iyoyi.” (translation – you are trying to leave money on the table.) Now I had reached my limit. “Are you hungry? If you are, just eat the wing!” Oh no no no, he wasn’t hungry at all, he insisted. He just thought I might want to eat it later. The guy got up and actually walked around the Spur to try and find a waiter! *jaw meet floor* At this point I had had had it. Could this get any more embarrassing or awkward??? Apparently so.

Luckily for me, the waiter was nowhere to be found but my luck ended there. He came back and did the unthinkable. He picked up a serviette and actually started wrapping the wing. Enough was enough. Where was he going to put it? His pocket? So I sat back down, took a deep breath and asked what he was doing. He said, “I will eat it later.” Lord give me strength!!!! I looked him straight in the eye said in my best lawyer voice, “you have one of 2 options, either you will sit down and eat that wing right now (pause) or you will unwrap it, put it back on the plate and we will leave. Decide right now. Either way, you are not leaving here with a piece of meat wrapped in tissue paper.”

I honestly expected him to put it back on the plate.

He slowly sank into his seat, unwrapped the wing and then ate the wing. REALLY!?!?! I’m sure he saved all of 50cents. All he could say as he gnawed at the bone was “you can very assertive hey?”

Did I mention that just before I finally got into my car and left, I realised I forgot to ask a question I ask everyone I go on a date with:
me: by the way, are you single”
him: I’m not married
me: (lawyer instinct kicks in) Are you dating someone else at the moment?
him: *laughs* You are really direct.
me: Are you?
him: yes. but I’m not married.
me: Why did you ask me out on a date?
him: A man has to explore his options.
me: Please do not contact me again.

I deleted his number before driving off.

I know it doesn’t seem likely but To Be Continued….

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