Carina is a 31-year-old market researcher and entrepreneur who lives on the island. She says “I love vintage pieces, and finding great deals at boutique stores. I adore purses and handbags.” Carina loves painting, travelling, working out and “drinking and learning about wine.” She says “I work from home, so my chances of meeting someone ‘at work’ are slim to none. I make it a point to go out at least three or four nights a week.”
I plunged into the online-dating waters a while ago, and have really had a love-hate relationship with it, as most people do. It’s so exciting to see all of these magical options in front of you, but the poor choices sometimes make me want to delete my profile in a fit of rage.
After a couple of days, I came across Joshua’s profile. Immediately my interest was piqued. His bio read well, and he was handsome … very handsome. Every photo was great, actually, leading me to think he had either edited himself into a J. Crew catalogue, or that he simply hung out with exclusively attractive, athletic and hip people.
We started messaging each other, added each other on Instagram, and he soon asked if we could talk on the phone. I thought, “He wants to talk on the phone? Have I really found the one guy who still wants to do this?!” I gave him my number, and a drinks date was planned. I was a happy, happy camper.
We both arrived few minutes early to the date. I started mentally handing out gold stars: He was early! He looked like his photos! The conversation got off to a great start, and he paid for our drinks. Ding! Ding! Ding! A second round was soon ordered, the conversation was flowing, and I noticed a woman nearby smiling at us. Clearly, she also knew there was a spark happening here.
Joshua was nice, handsome, focused on his career, and just seemed to be the whole package. I was really excited, but I calmed my inner self as best I could. At one point, I even hit the bathroom and splashed some water on my face, as if I was going back into the boxing ring that is my love life. I told myself not to screw this one up.
After we left the bar, we roamed the neighbourhood, talking about what we are looking for in our next relationships. As it got dark, Joshua offered to drive me to the nearest bus stop, as he had plans with friends for dinner nearby. We got to talking about food, and found out we have some mutual restaurant loves. Of course.
He then asked me to dinner, for the following night. Hmm, way to go! We agreed to a time and place, and I was out of the car and off to the bus stop, feeling grand.
The next morning, I woke up to a text from Joshua asking if he could call me. I assumed he was offering to pick me up for dinner, and wanted my address.
Instead, I got a quick lesson in why one should never assume anything: it would appear that our going for drinks and making plans for dinner were too many things for Joshua to process. “This is moving too quickly,” he said. “I can’t do this.”
Reminding him that he was the one who suggested dinner didn’t work. Joshua had decided this was just too serious, and that my wanting a boyfriend again one day was something he couldn’t deal with.
I was in between crying ever so slightly, and feeling very, very angry that it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning yet. As we said goodbye, he casually mentioned that if I was still free that night, he was game for coming over and having sex. Really, dude? I told him to eff off, and hung up. What nerve!