RHS #19 – Let it Go

I should’ve known. Agreeing to one more date with Rescue Dork after what happened last time, I was really just asking for disaster.

And so, a list of signs that the universe delivered to me on Wednesday evening to alert me to the fact that the date as a whole was a BAD IDEA.

1. He suggested we head up to Altitudes Bistro on Grouse Mountain for dinner and to catch the Pay Per View hockey game on TV. When we got there he realized (of course he didn’t do any research or planning before hand – and what did I say last time about planning?) that just to get up to the bistro was going to cost a little over $60 for the both of us. So, with his apology for appearing to be a “cheap bastard” that plan was nixed. Holy awkward batman.

2. We drive over to another pub. Sure, they’ve got the game on a big projection screen, but no game sound. Instead they opted for playing some ambient house music. The service was even worse than the tunes, so movin’ on, again. He’s kind enough to remind me when we’re back in the vehicle that I probably think he sucks, and this is shaping up to be a pretty terrible date as well. Thanks. I was trying to block that. But if you want me to hate you, I will.

3. Third pub’s a charm. We get in, perch ourselves on a couple stools, and settle in to watch the rest of the game (by this time we’ve missed most of the first period). Five minutes later he says “oh shit… we were here the other night… I totally forgot about that… oh man!” That’s right buddy. On top of this disastrous date, remind me of the last bad date (and further reveal how inappropriately inebriated you were).

4. He had to take a call from his sister (it happens, no biggie), and 10 minutes later, guess who shows up! Apparently she had asked on the phone where he was, and if he was with friends or on a date. I guess to avoid further grilling, he said he was with friends. The awkward look on her face when she showed up gave it all away.

I’m just glad there was hockey to distract me. And as soon as the game was over, we left the pub, and I was ready to bolt. I politely declined/made excuses to avoid spending any more time together that evening, and swiftly made my way elsewhere on a personal “anywhere but where this guy is” mission.

Lessons learned?

1. If a date is going badly, and your “plans” (and I use that term in the loosest possible sense) don’t work out, just roll with it. If you can be spontaneous and have fun despite the mishaps, things will go much better than if you fall apart and obsess over how badly you think the evening is going.

2. If you have a monumentally bad date, sometimes that is the universe’s way of saying “this one is not for you!” Do not, under any circumstance, attempt to give them a second chance. NO GOOD WILL COME OF IT! LET IT GO!

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