Maria is a 30-year-old business strategist. She’s got a pair of “piercing hazel brown eyes,” and she says “I’m fairly conservative: button-up shirts and dress pants are my ‘look.’ Sometimes I spice it up with a chunky necklace, big earrings, and bright pumps.” Maria’s friends would say she is “funny, silly, an extroverted introvert, and even-tempered and easy-going … I’m the mediator in most situations.” Maria loves running and walking, but says “that’s where my fitness stops.” She likes “going to pubs, exploring the city, staying in and making dinner, and watching prank videos online.”
I’ve been single for about a year. I go on a few dates every month, but I’m still looking for that “real love.” I want passion with someone who lives to live. He should also be practical and sensible, and just as goofy as me.
Kunle and I met on a new dating app. I sent him a smiley face, and we started chatting. He was incredibly handsome, we had a lot in common, and it even seemed like we might have crossed paths periodically through work. He seemed to want the same things I want, which is huge.
He wanted to take me out to dinner. We swapped numbers and he called so we could arrange a place and a time. He had a sexy voice, which really won me over. I said yes to the dinner date after we chatted for a while.
On the night of the date, I walked up to the restaurant, and he was waiting outside. Kunle was absolutely gorgeous in person, and as our eyes met, he grinned. I waved. He waved. Sparks flew. We hugged. In the moment I thought “Wow! He’s the hottest guy I’ve been out with yet! Woo-hoo!” I was so excited.
Everything was going great for about the first 15 minutes of the date. We had ordered drinks and started in on them, our food was coming, the conversation was exciting and we both maintained good eye contact. I was beginning to feel, perhaps, a little overconfident. The worst thing was that I couldn’t stop smiling. I mean, like I actually couldn’t. I tried. Could not. I think a part of me was just thrilled that a first date was going so well. That’s rare.
At some point Kunle started fidgeting. At first I didn’t really notice, but then I saw that he was picking at his food and barely eating. I thought he was nervous and suggested we get another drink. At first he welcomed the idea, but then seemed to have changed his mind just as the waiter approached. He said we were fine, but I wanted another drink, especially at that point. Kunle actually seemed incredulous that I was getting another drink. It was bizarre.
I’d had enough of his fidgeting, and couldn’t get into the conversation in the same way. I was too busy watching him not eat his dinner. When I was done eating, I asked for the bill. The waiter asked if I’d like my food wrapped up. I was about to say no, but Kunle said yes for both of us.
When our wrapped food and the bill finally came, Kunle started to reach across the table for my box of food, and then stopped and asked if he could take my leftovers. I said “You want to take my food home?” He said yes. I could not believe this guy.
I ignored him and suggested we split the bill, and then Kunle casually told me he had no money, and said that I should pay since I had two drinks. I stared at him in disbelief. My fists were clenched. I didn’t say another word. I pulled cash out of my purse and flagged the waiter down. The waiter asked if I needed change, and I said “No” while my temper flared.
As soon as the waiter left, I stood up and put my jacket on. Kunle was taking his time getting ready to leave. When he reached back to put his jacket on, I grabbed both leftover boxes of food, spun around on my heel and marched through the restaurant and out the front door, leaving Kunle scrambling behind me. As I got to the parking lot, he tried to chase me down, yelling at me to give him the food — that I paid for. I eventually outran him, or he gave up.
He didn’t want what I wanted. Instead, he wanted a free meal with a beautiful woman. And was willing to chase me for it.
Culled from https://www.thestar.com/