A doozy of a date...

There are those that are Monday- Thursday dates and those, that twitterpate on date #1, that skip right to weekend dates. Saturday night is top date real estate. This prime time slot goes to worthy contestants only. Up until Saturday night at 845pm, “Slick” had qualified as a worthy contestant. This fellow blew my socks off on our first mid-week date. Doors were held, bills were paid, seats were tucked in, jackets were assisted on, and follow up was outstanding. He was handsome, successful, charming… and an arrogant asshole! Who knew!

To set the scene, we are in a very popular modern Indian Fusion restaurant in the heart of the city. Its Saturday night, the music is loud but not loud enough to cover the epic argument that is about to go down. Next to our wee table is a pleasant older couple, tourists who happen to fall upon this dynamite establishment. My heart goes to them for destroying there experience.

We have appies, and all seems well aside from “Slick’s” salesman tendencies beginning to ooze out his pours. Is the truth slowly unveiling itself to me? We begin on the discussion of our past travels. How cliché? (Ease up – it was the second date!) We land on a country we both had visited. A tranquil country focused on sustainability, Eco tourism, and preserving their land and culture. “Slick” makes it known that he was intending to invest his overflowing pockets in a high rise on the beach. He asks my opinion and I gently state that I fancy the idea of a small cabin in a quaint tucked away town. He digs for my reasons so I gently share with him that I would have a hard time investing in a high rise as I wouldn’t feel good contributing to a project in a town now full of local prostitutes and drug dealers their to keep the high rise dwellers entertained. Please keep in mind that I presented my opinion in the utmost gentle way sure to not offend him. He snaps and says (air quotes) “I really (sarcasm) appreciate your HIPPY mentality, but my outlook is if shits going to happen anyways, I may as well be a part of it!” He curses under his breath, shakes his head and drops his fork.

What an interesting outlook I think to myself. At first I burst into laughter. Did he JUST say “Hippy mentality”? So I ask him to explain a little further what exactly did he mean by this. His response: “Well, like I bet you recycle and stuff! You know, dead beat hippy mentality? ” Oh shoot! My bad, I am sorry for caring about this precious earth we live upon, but even further, what does recycling even have to do with this conversation? Did you just say DEAD BEAT? Guns are now A-BLAZIN! This is where I paused and asked myself, does this deserve me to quiet down and keep this rip-roaring argument on the low-down or do I unleash and make it known that this man has just ruined any chance he had? I raised my voice. I strike back and question his intriguing outlook and bring up topics such as prostitution, slavery, and any other controversial topics that are ‘happening’ in the world that perhaps he “may as well be a part of”. He retaliates then apologizes and we continue eating our chicken vindaloo in complete silence. Date wraps up, he takes me home and requests another date?!

Hate to tell you “Slick” but your sales-man tactics worked…once! Your true colors are bright and blinding. Good luck destroying the earth and your dreams of ever having a relationship.