Mabel is a 33-year-old who works in IT. “I try to be classy in my look — nothing too flashy or trendy,” she says. She describes herself as “a girl with a big heart and a dry sense of humour.” Mabel likes “cooking for friends, and seeing live theatre. I love brunch. Love brunch.” Mabel has been single for two years and says “I pretty much feel like I date for the material. My luck has been bad. I think Cupid has a beef with me.” She wants to date someone who “loves to laugh, loves to eat and isn’t afraid of an independent woman.”
Lanre was charming online. He sent me no pictures of his man parts! I get too many of those, sadly. After talking online and agreeing to meet, Lanre and I planned to have drinks at an outdoor restaurant near my apartment. Things got off to a rocky start. I was standing on the street waiting for him — he was late — and I spotted a car idling about a block away. I knew he was driving, so I casually walked by the car. I peeked inside and it turns out it was Lanre, but instead of doing the normal thing of parking and apologizing for being late, Lanre decided to stay in his car, keep texting whoever he was texting, and eventually got out and walked toward the restaurant. Charming!!!
We ordered drinks, chips and chicken. Not a bad thing to eat on a date. They’re not too messy, you can share and everyone likes them. Lanre was very quiet, saying almost nothing, but one of the few times Lanre did speak to me, he mentioned that I was eating the chips “like a girl,” and that I shouldn’t do that. Really, dude? This is the nugget of info and perspective you choose to contribute to the date?
At this point, I would have rather talked to any of the other guys in the restaurant, but since I was there with Lanre, I decided to ask him some questions. It was like putting a quarter in a vending machine: a question went in; an answer came out. Once his answer was done? Silence. It was like I was interviewing him on the news. He asked nothing about me. Absolutely nothing. This went on for another 10 minutes, until he just shut down and started looking at his phone.
I tried not to care. I focused on enjoying my drinks and my “girlie” way of eating chips. I tried a few more times to ask questions, but he kept going back to his phone. He wasn’t apologizing or acting embarrassed about it, either. And that’s when I noticed it: Lanre’s sunglasses were inside his collar, sort of dangling from the top of his shirt. So, being the observant person that I am — despite the fact that I didn’t know to run the moment I saw him sitting in his car when he was already late — I looked at the reflection of his phone in the lenses of his sunglasses and saw what had to be the dating website we met on. He was chatting with someone else! Jeez!!!
At this point exactly one hour had passed and I decided I was done. I did not want to waste another of my “quarters” and ask who the girl was that he was chatting with. I got the cheque and got him out the door inside of five minutes, but he insisted on walking me home, knowing I lived close by. I shook his hand and went inside.
About 20 minutes passed, and then he started up with text after text after text, ranging from “I didn’t expect that to end so quickly” to “I’m still in my car, I don’t know what to do” to “Aren’t you going to invite me over?” I eventually messaged my neighbours to make sure they were home in case things got dicey with “the man who would only text.” The next morning, Lanre texted me to say that he was disappointed with our date. Well, buddy, that makes two of us.