A date with Scott

I’m back in the dating saddle! Some of the stuff that happens on online dates are crazy, and the rest of the world (especially you happily married types) needs to know about it. So, we begin our (new) journey with Scott, who bills himself as 31, a dangerous goods transporter, who loves AFL and is looking for someone to make him laugh and settle down with.

So I head off for the 40 minute drive to the Irish pub/bar that we have arrange to meet at. As I’m pulling into the carpark he rings and apologises and says he’ll be 10 minutes late. I come in, find a table by the fire and peruse a menu. He makes it in, we have a quick hug and we settle in for a chat with a drink (beer for him, non alcoholic LL&B for me.) He lets out a big sigh and says “wow, what a day.” I ask him about it and after a few seconds collecting himself he says “Its a long story. So, my brother’s just gotten out of jail, right, and….” I very politely sat and listened to his detailed and enthusiastic recount of his brother’s crimes, jobs, lack of jobs and parole violation. Said brother this morning went into hiding as he knew the police were looking for him. I was polite. At the end of this charming story, he reaches out and examines a bracelet I was wearing, then turned my hand around to measure my hand against his. I’m pretty sure I saw this move on a David Attenborough doco once about the mating rituals of our ancestors. Then, with his hand pressed against mine, he turns to me and asks “Do you mind if I hold your hand?” Just to clarify, we were about 30 minutes into our first ever date. I said “Ummm actually, yes.” “Why?” “It would be weird. I only met you half an hour ago.” Smooth, LJ.

Then, over dinner (chicken spring rolls, FYI. They were freaking delicious.) I asked him about his job. Wow. Talk about opening the floodgates. For the next hour he showed an unhealthily high enthusiasm for his role as a ‘dangerous goods specialist.’ That’s SPECIALIST, he reinforced. He knows “everything there is to know about explosives.” And, bless him, he proceeded to tell me 3/4 of it. Including an ever so slighly worrying story about a ex mine pit, thousands of dollars worth of confiscated fireworks, and diesel. Government sanctioned diesel. All the while getting handsy as frequently as he felt was appropriate. (It wasn’t appropriate. Any of the times.)

After a couple of hours of him talking, me attempting to respond and him keeping on talking anyway, the pub staff started stacking chairs. Letting out a big yawn, I made my excuses and thanked him for a lovely night. I’m a total coward, so I told him I had a great time and would love to do it again. (I wouldn’t. Not even for the chicken spring rolls.) He kindly walked me to my car… and I just knew what was coming, do decided to get in first. I gave him a hug and a very deliberate peck on the cheek. The hug went on a half second too long. “Could I have a kiss?” he asked. “Ummmm… maybe next time?” I lied, yet he leaned in anyway. All puckered. I’m sure it was in slow motion. I bailed with another kiss on the cheek, jumped in the car and with a friendly wave, turned the key. Rungh, said the car. Rungh, rungh. Shite, come on battery, don’t fail me now. We’ve come so far together. Literally – we were on the other side of the city. Finally, just as he moves to take a step towards the car, the engine turns over and I’m off with a quick ‘toot toot.’

I feel awful bitching like this about a guy who was probably perfectly nice but who read the situation so badly, and who wasn’t blessed in the looks department. But blind Freddy could see the date was going badly, and its not a problem when two people don’t click, you just have to learn to back out gracefully. Otherwise the nice girl you spent the evening with will go and blog her heart out about you.

Up next? Well, there’s Jon – who I seemed to be getting on with really well, until I found out his hobby was kangaroo shooting. Not occasionally, but every weekend. Pass. Then Derek who is actually quite a spunk, but who I can never now catch up with face to face after we got carried away on a chat conversation. And today, I was approached online by a Dean, who when I asked for a picture, sent me one of his willy.

Stay tuned for date two, whoever it may be. Unless of course, someone has a brother? LJ xx


6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. KK
    Sep 28, 2011 @ 08:21:06

    Scott has probably blogged about the fact that he gave a girl the best springrolls in Perth and she didn’t even put out! 🙂


  2. Selina
    Sep 28, 2011 @ 09:15:16

    Oh my lord LJ, Freaking hilarious. I am PMSL. Lovely guys you are meeting.



  3. Allison
    Sep 28, 2011 @ 09:17:06

    OMG. I DIE. So awkward! Dating is awkward. I once went on a date with a guy from RSVP. He is best described as being more boring than dust.


  4. Mandy
    Sep 29, 2011 @ 19:46:29

    I think you should meet Derek lol


  5. LambChop
    Nov 13, 2011 @ 20:01:13

    Giggle at the shot of “Willy”… meeting one for the first time is kind of an awkward moment at the best of times, having one randomly arrive would be very well, odd to say the least. I mean what do you say ? “Thanks for the photo, you penis looks lovely, lets have coffee and go from there ?” …


  6. Karen
    Nov 15, 2011 @ 21:00:32

    Oh God, awkward!!… yet, I laughed at your detailed account.


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