Date 1

A friend from back east had a friend moved here and was convinced that we would be a “great match”. I trusted her so agreed to go out on a date with the guy. Like her husband, this guy is/was a broker. He picked me up (late) and said that he was taking me to a “real swanky place” (not bad looking, tall, good clothes). We went to the Salmon House on the Hill. I am very, very allergic to all seafood, fish included. I also find this particular restaurant to be very overrated, outdated and pretentious. However, I was keeping an open mind. This guy talked nonstop for 3 hours about himself, how great he was, how much money he makes, how many women he had dated, etc., etc., etc. I drank (couldn’t eat anything, so what the hell). He didn’t even notice, I don’t think, that I didn’t eat anything, though managed to get through most of a bottle of (very yummy) red wine. Seriously, it was the only thing keeping me sane.

We did not have a second date, though he did call and reportedly told my friend that he thought I was great.

Moral: Money/financial success do not equal class/style/personality

Date 2

A co-worker’s fiancee’s friend was “perfect for me” she said, so she set it up for the 4 of us to go to a movie and dinner on evening after work. Here’s how it played out:

Him: Francophobe from Montreal, lower east side
Me: Anglophone from Montreal, west side

Him: huge chip on his shoulder
Me: don’t give a rat’s ass

Him: showed up wearing gold velour
Me: ’nuff said

Moral: Just because 2 people hail from the same province does not mean that they are going to be a love match.

Date 3

A dear friend whom I adore sent me an email that read something like this:

“Finn — was at a party over the weekend and met this great guy that would be so totally perfect for you. We’re going to Rodney’s Friday, you have to come meet us.”

Everyone tells me that you have to put yourself out there, so I went (again to an restaurant that could kill me, see a trend????). I was running late so I called to tell him that I was enroute. I am so sorry, I am so very, very sorry, were the first words out of his mouth. I should have turned and ran way. I didn’t. My friend apologized to me throughout the evening; I made sure to drink very expensive cocktails on his tab. The guy was obnoxious, loud, a braggart; in short, a classic buffoon.
Over brunch the next day I asked my friend the key question: what in heaven’s name made you think this guy would be so totally perfect for me????

I must have been drunker than I though, was the (sheepish) reply.

Moral: if friends offer to set you up with someone they met at a party, make sure to ask how many cocktails they had had prior to arriving at their conclusion

There you have it, my most recent dating experience in the city of Vancouver.

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