Mr Verbal Diarrhoea

Mr Verbal Diarrhoea

Another weekend and another dreaded date organised by the dating agency from hell was fast approaching.  By this stage I’d given up expecting any of these dates to go well but I was still putting my best foot forward and my best foot was normally shod in 4 inch hand made fire engine red heels.  As it turned out this guy was actually quite attractive, not my type thank god because when he opened his mouth the sexy exterior didn’t make up for the verbal diarrhoea.

Basically the first words out of his mouths where how he didn’t date fat chicks he had only agreed to meet me because Carman had personally asked him to do it so the company could meet its contractual obligations. He then went on to ask me if I thought he had any chance of getting it on with Carmen, wasn’t she just the perfect babe, like if she looked that hot in cloths imagine how awesome she would be in the sack and so on and so forth.  Having never met the woman in person I have no idea what she looked like but if she was built and dressed anything like Marry my original consultant when she interviewed this guy then I’m guessing she was cross between hooker and looker.

He then started babbling about how he’d been fat and wasn’t he totally amazing since he got thin, how he wasn’t going to work till he cracked the modelling industry (that was never going to happen he wasn’t that sexy). He then went on to tell me all about his relationship that had broken up because he’d got fat and how that had motivated him to get thin again. How he’d decided dating women was better they were less judgmental than his ex-boyfriend had ever been and so on and so forth.

By this time my eyes had glazed over and I was mentally doing other things like planning what to send my nephews for Christmas. At some point I tuned back in and he was babbling on about working in a pet shop and how it was his job to clean the cages and how when you have to worm the animals all this poo comes out of them and it looks like spaghetti and meat sauce.

Since I couldn’t get this guy to shut up I asked the cafe staff for the the key and directions to the lady’s room with the intention of running away afterward. Didn’t quite work out that way he followed me to the bathroom and was waiting for me when I came out of the ladies room. I seriously thought about turning around and going back inside and climbing out the window to escape but the ladies room is unfortunately on the second floor of the building above the cafe and a fitted skirt and 4 inch heels are not the easiest thing to climb out a window and shimmy down a drain pipe in.  So I ended up going back to the coffee shop with him and after 3 more coffees and 2 hours later I was busting to pee so once again I asked the staff for the key but this time as i collected it I told the waiter to send one of the girls up in a couple of minutes to collect the key.

After I peed I cracked the door opened and listened and sure enough I could here Mr Verbal Diarrhoea chatting to the waitress as they came up the stairs toward the bathrooms.  At this point my fight or flight instinct took over and since running down the stairs would mean going past them I took the only other options I had I cracked open the window, checked no one was below and drooped my beloved 4inch fire engine red heels out the window, climbed out the window and then shimmied down the drain pipe totally ruining one of my favourite pair of stay up stockings in the process.

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Mr My Wife

Mr My Wife

By now I was going on these dates for pure entertainment and with the mindset that what doesn’t kill you would probably make and excellent book someday. The next guy I went on a coffee date with had a mind-set that was just plain scary.

Physically he was really muscled since he spent at least 2 to 4 hours every day at the gym lifting weights and doing muscle sculpting for a rough idea of his muscle mass think Arnold Schwarzenegger in his body building days. Overly muscle guys aren’t normally my thing to start with but when I met this guy I had to bite the inside of my mouth really heard not to burst out laughing the problem was he was only about 5ft (152cm) tall so the muscle mass was badly proportioned. He was nice enough to give me a rose on the coffee date and then screwed it up 5 min later by commenting that someone my size really should only ever drink low or zero fat milk in her coffee.

Turns out he had grown up in a small town near Canberra, moved to Canberra to attend University and had never left. As I found out when I asked more questions he meant it when he said he’d never left Canberra, not even for a weekend away in Sydney or down to the Coast. I asked him what he did for holidays and turns out he took “stay-cations” and booked a hotel room in Canberra and did the tourist things in Canberra. If you’ve ever been to Canberra you would know that there really isn’t all that much to do in the way of “tourist” things let alone for every vacation you’ve ever taken in the 20 years he had lived there.

Then things got really creepy when he started going on about how when he got married his wife wouldn’t work. His wife would be a stay at home mum and she would have 3 children, 2 boys and a girl but his wife would have a university degree because then his children would be smart. He would give his wife an allowance every month because women could never seem to manage money and the more you gave them the more they would waste it. Once a year till they had children, which would be exactly 3 years after they were married, he would take his wife on a vacation but only one of those would be overseas and he would pick the location. His wife would go to the gym every day because it would be important for his career for her to look her best and his wife would not be allowed to have a weight issue.

I honestly felt sorry for this “wife” of his because over the years he had created the perfect fantasy in his head about what this “wife” would do, say, look like, act and it seemed to be a cross between Barbie and The Stepford Wife robots. I stopped counting the amount of times he used the term “my wife” when I hit 50 and this date only went for 30 minutes, seriously the guy had issues.

He didn’t suggest we have a second date thank the goddess because I’m not sure I could have thought of a nice way to say “ah no way in hell”.  As it turns out we both told the Dating Agency from Hell that they totally missed the mark on that date as we had zero interests in common and even less interest in each other.  By now I was beginning to realise that Carman wasn’t even interviewing the people she sent me on dates with because when I mentioned he was only 5ft (152cm) tall she said to me “oh really I would never have realised he didn’t sound short on the phone”, I just hung up on her it seemed simpler than pointing out that under the contract I signed with her company she’s supposed to vet these guys in person as suitable candidates before sending me on dates with them.

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Mr Authoritarian

Mr Authoritarian

Unbelievable as it would seem I was still going on coffee dates with men recommended to me through relationship company from hell the eternal optimist in me was sure that the bad dates had to end and I would find at least on good guy. Ok that isn’t quite true I had by now given up on finding anyone worth going out with for more than a coffee date but dame it I was paying through the nose for this service so I was going on the dates. My entire friend set I suspect where encouraging me to keep going on the dates from hell because my e-mails and girls nights where I told them of the latest “disaster date” kept them rolling around laughing. As one friend informed me my e-mails where her sanity break through the last month of her pregnancy and the first few months of being a new mum.

The next man to ring me was on the scale of bad dates so far apart from Mr Dumb, probably goes down as the worst date I went on for the entire time I was putting myself through this ordeal. Mr Authoritarian rang me up and for once I had written some of the information down that the agency had given me so I didn’t sound like a total ditz when I talked to him.

The conversation went something like this:

“Hello, my name is X”

“Hello, X it’s nice to hear from you”

“I don’t like to talk on the phone you can’t judge people when you can’t see them. So on Saturday you will meet me at Magic-Round-About at 14:00”

“I will?” I asked in total surprise, but he took it as agreement said good and hung up on me.

So Saturday comes along and unusual for me I was running late on getting ready probably because by this time I was really over wasting my time going on these dates. Anyway I jump in the car to discover that yet again my housemate had borrowed my car and not bothered to put petrol in so my tank wasn’t just empty I had the “flashing” light telling me I’d be lucky to make it down the hill to the petrol station. Finding parking in Canberra can be a pain in the neck and on this day for some reason the parking gods where not smiling on me and it took forever to find a parking spot.

By this time I was running about 5 minutes late which is according to the Rules of Combat would make me just on time. I rocked up to the Magic Round About and notice that there are 10 missed calls on my phone from Mr Authoritarian number but no voice mail had been left. Since I’d been on enough dates where my “date” had been running late I was hoping that  Mr Authoritarian had phoned to say he was running late, I was wrong.

”So you finally decided to return my call” was the rather sarcastic way Mr Authoritarian answered his phone.

“Sorry I was driving when you called and couldn’t answer the phone. I’m at the round-about where are you?”

“I assumed you had decided not to come after you where so very late and I have left.  Since you have apparently decided to finally turn up I will come back, do not move I will be there shortly”

Before I could tell him not to bother he hung up on me so I took 3 deep breaths and prepared to endure yet another crappy coffee date. When Mr Authoritarian turned up I was tempted to run away screaming or pretend I wasn’t the person he was meeting. He was about 40 and had the hair and body build of Fryer Tuck (short, fat and balding). He was wearing a baby poo yellow polyester shirt, brown pants and dusty brown shoes and he had gold rimmed 70s style massive glasses that took up half his face.

Then he smiled at me and I seriously thought I was going to vomit especially when he leaned in to kiss me on the check, which I avoided very obviously by stepping back and offering my hand to shake. His teeth where this odd color like they where vaguely green, think glow-in-the-dark vampire teeth in daylight and you get the color. However more disturbing than that was the fact that all his teeth had this massive build up of visible yellow plark running from the gum and covering about a third of each tooth. It was so thick in-between his teeth that it looked like putty put there to fill up the gaps.

Dental hygiene is something I am almost paranoid about and the fact that his was so disgusting combined with his bossy manner was enough to make me drop any pretence that I was enjoying this date. He told me not asked me which coffee shop we would be going to and then ordered hot chocolate for me with marshmallow. If he’d bothered to ask he would have discovered I hate marshmallows in any drink and I rarely if ever drink hot chocolate. Before he went to pay I told the waitress to cancel the second drink, told Mr Authoritarian that evidently we where not compatible and this date was over and left.

The “debrief” phone call the following Monday with Carmel my new consultant was frosty and short. When she told me maybe I should lower my expectations of the type of men I wanted to go on dates with I told her even if I dropped my expectations to pond scum level the dates her company kept sending me on would still be to low. Needless to say I was expecting to never hear from them again, pity I was mistaken.

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