Maxwell is 30, works in finance. He says he likes “cars and clubs,” and describes his style as “corporate casual.” He says: “I usually end up dating kind of crazy girls.”
I met Donna at a club, and after some flirting online we eventually went on a “real date.” She lived with her parents in a good neighbourhood, so I was optimistic. I really liked her, and I wanted to impress her by taking her to a fancier restaurant than I’m sure she was usually taken to, so we went to a nice bistro downtown. I could tell she was impressed, and even more impressed when I was able to order a bottle of wine in French. After dessert, we decided to grab a drink at another venue to keep the conversation going.
As we continued to chat at the bar we ended up going to, I mentioned that I had an 8 a.m. meeting that was going to be a pain to get out of bed for, and she said out of nowhere that we would have to find another night for her to sleep over, because she hates getting up early. After almost spitting out my drink, I started backtracking and said that I could easily move any meeting — even though that is far from the case — if that is something she wanted to do and felt comfortable with. Shortly thereafter, we went back to my apartment, and things started to heat up a bit. I told her that I had moved my meeting — even though I hadn’t — and that she was my number-one priority — even though I would definitely be waking up at 7 a.m. to make my meeting.
A few hours later, my iPhone alarm went off and I reached over her to turn it off as fast as possible. As I walked to my washroom, all I could hear was some faint complaining coming from my bedroom; my first thought was that I had gotten off easy! However, as I brushed my teeth I heard the sound of an alarm coming from my bedroom again, and realized that I must have pressed the snooze button instead of the dismiss button on my iPhone alarm. I ran back to my bedroom, but once I got there, both Donna and my iPhone were nowhere to be found.
I felt a cool draft at my feet and realized Donna had opened my balcony door. When I ran out she told me that I was a liar, and proceeded to throw my iPhone off of my balcony — on a high floor — into some bushes and trees down below. Donna then told me to call her a cab so that she could leave and go back to sleep in her own bed. I happily obliged — using her phone. As we were waiting for her cab — after I found my iPhone by crawling into the landscaping —I informed her that a number of less-aggressive solutions to the problem could have been found, but she didn’t seem to care. Girl must really love her sleep.
Culled from http://www.thestar.com/