When considering the nominations for this post it came to mind that the best and worst of the past year were with the same person so, given the ambiguity of that situation I will retreat further into the annals and related the best and worst.....in my colourful dating history.
Several years ago I agreed to a date with a man who lived a good distance away and had a somewhat indistinct picture posted on his profile. I was hesitant and expressed my concerns to a co-worker who offered the sunny little homily, "You never know", and.... indeed you don't.
Tacit 1st date etiquette has suggested that, when meeting at a restaurant, the 1st person to arrive waits at the door in order to ascertain identity. I found no one at the door but knew he had arrived due to a prior phone call. Wandering aimlessly in search of the indistinct date I was taken pity on by an astute hostess who pointed me to a table where an individual sat alone, his face obscured by the large menu he was perusing. Puzzled but undaunted I sat across from the menu and counted to ten before it was lowered. Indistinct man gave way to non-descript man.
The server appeared and requested our drinks order. I responded with, "I will have a marguarita on the rocks". He responded with, "I'll have a fajita".
Already wishing I had arranged the ersatz emergency phone call I anxiously awaited my marguarita which I fully intended on downing in one gulp. My drink, and his dinner were presented and he blithely began eating the fajita filling as though it was a stew, mopping up liquid with the tortillas. Not as disturbing though, was his utter obliviousness to the absence of food in front of me, as was the manner in which he ate. Left arm encircling the plate, right arm steadily shoveling food into his mouth with head bent and eyes darting around the room. Yes, I thought, I have seen men eat in this manner before.......in prison !!!!! Only movies about prison of course but any one of them will reveal this particular style of eating as guarding one's food before the Aryan brotherhood comes to claim it.
My 2nd marguarita was rapidly waning as he looked up and suddenly remarked upon my foodless state, deposited a teaspoonful of fajita stew onto my side plate and ordered the cheque.
Thirty minutes after arriving, dinner was eaten and paid for and we were standing in the parking lot where I muttered something lame about perhaps having left the iron on before driving home ( with a side trip to LCBO ) steadily watching my rearview mirror for following headlights.
Yes.....that was the worst.
The best was a lunch date, and a much shorter story. Simply put, we met for lunch......and stayed for dinner. As the lunch crowd exited and we were left alone but having far too much fun to contemplate leaving, we asked the manager if anyone would mind if we stayed.....throwing in the fact that it was a 1st date for cuteness value. Not only were we welcomed but we were treated as a romantic little novelty to which he added the "awwww" inducing across the table kiss. Eight hours later we were still able to adequately steam up the car windows before parting.
Why did I not marry him? Because future correspondence revealed that he was running his own little season of "The Bachelor", narrowing the field week by week and while I was happy for the "rose" I was not interested in competing.
Sadly.....the restaurant no longer exists.
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