…Wait so this isn’t a date?

I know this is likely the case in every major city, but dating in Toronto is ludicrously difficult to navigate. I don’t even mean the actual act of dating, I mean everything from meeting someone, to texting, to following up, to following through on plans. It is rife with complications and I’m beginning to think I may not be the kind of intuitive you need to be to trick a man into signing a years-long lease on your vaginal canal rather than the short term air bnb-type situation that we’ve all become too familiar with.

Before I launch into the story below, I would like to let you know that I’ve been single for over a year now, and my previous experience with serious relationships is limited to one un-cultured, hockey obsessed suburbanite whose favourite restaurant is Boston Pizza (no disrespeck BP, but you should be no one’s favourite), so that I’m a tad rusty when it comes to reading signals.

Also; I have made the conscious decision to not be on any kind of dating app because it is crucial to my self-esteem that no one sees my face in an online catalogue and orders my p*ssy to their house like it’s a f*cking pizza.

So anyways, without further delay, please enjoy the following story about one dude, who appeared as though he may be a small light at the end of the tunnel, but ended up making things a  worse.

My friend Martine invited me to her yacht club for the first event of the summer. It’s super weird, everyone dresses in white pants and blue blazers and pats themselves on the back for another year of making outsiders feel uncomfortable. The young men at this yacht club are notorious for being that kind of date-rapey, finance, bro-d*uche that we’ve all become too familiar with so I always know to keep my guard up when I’m interacting with them. But I was realllllyyyy feeling myself on this night. I had just bought this really cute camisole from Banana Republic and I was totally working it because I was getting a lot of attention. One guy asked me to dance, several others were buying me drinks and then there was this one who was devastatingly good-looking and he was super focused on me.

We were talking about our jobs, our goals, current events, all of that stuff and he asked me for my number and I gave it to him. Then he said that he knew of an event happening the following week and asked if I’d be interested in going with him. Now in my head I was like, “Oh a networking event? Will there be free wine and appetizers? If so, I’m in”. So I said I’d love to go and for him to text me the details.

Cut to the following day, he called me just to chat…like an actual telephone call took place. He was charming on the phone and we re-confirmed again because obviously there had been booze involved the night before and he wanted to know if I was actually down to attend this event with him. I told him that I wanted to go.

On the day of the event, he called me after work as I was getting changed into a cuter, flirtier outfit when he called me again….to make sure I was coming. I thought this was weird because I’d told him twice already that I would be attending. As we continued chatting, he said “Now I’ll be there at the start and at the end, but I have to do some work during it”…..this is when I began to think something was up. Why was he going to leave me alone for the bulk of the party? I pressed him to explain and he started telling that “this session is free of charge, but if you want to do the weekend session, which I highly recommend you do, that’ll be $780.”

All week, you guys. All week I had been planning to go on a date I had been asked out on. But it was never a date. A young, employed, handsome man invited me to join his cult/pyramid scheme.

Looking back, when I think about the conversation we had at the yacht club, we did talk a lot about our careers and what we hope to do with them. And he was asking me about how I plan to get there, what my goal setting strategy was and I thought he was actually interested. But no, he looked at me and thought “this girl will buy what I’m trying to sell”.

So obviously I cancelled the “date” once I realized this and fell into a wine/ice cream/hard cheese haze for a few days, wherein I booked a trip to Europe because I thought “What am I hoarding all this money for? My wedding? LOL. My future family home? PUH-LEASE. My future children’s educations? AS IF.

So now I’m just poor and alone. Let me tell you, it is a winning combo.


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