Laura is a 23-year-old communications coordinator who lives in Queen West. She says, “I don’t really have a specific style. I look professional when I’m at work and more ‘out there’ when I’m not.” Laura is always up for something “fun and crazy,” and enjoys writing, reading, going to parties, and “sitting in the car laughing about nothing.” She met Michael on Instagram.
You know how it is: You post a selfie and your followers leave their phone numbers under your picture. One boring night, against my better judgment, I texted one of my “Instagram Guys,” Michael. He was super cute—tall and tanned with tattoos and a scruffy beard.
We texted back and forth for a couple weeks, then decided we should go on a date. He was already acting a little creepy and self-absorbed. If I didn’t send him a good-morning text, I got messages from him asking me where I was. “Plan the whole date,” he wrote. “I love surprises!”
I told him to meet me at a Starbucks on Queen. I took a seat and waited while baristas shot me scathing looks for not having a latte in my hand. Eventually, Michael arrived. He didn’t look as smooth and well-lit as he did on Instagram—damn those filters!—but he was still cute.
The first thing out of his mouth was a rant about the TTC. I interjected by asking whether we should get a coffee. “Go ahead,” he said. “I hate places like this.” I bought myself a latte, then we headed west. I had chosen a spot for dinner that I thought would be fun.
He raised his eyebrows when we got to Rock Lobster. I was absorbed in my menu when I glanced up and saw him sitting, arms crossed, with an irritated look on his face. He told me he was allergic to shellfish. Why come in if you’re allergic to shellfish? Why ask me to plan a date without telling me you have deathly food allergies? The waitress came over and I ordered a huge Caesar (with a shot on the side).
I mostly listened as Michael talked, not giving a damn that I was eating like I’d never seen food before. It was a nice change from the skimpy salads I usually order to appear “cute” on first dates. The conversation, which he was basically having with himself, included his thoughts on Italians (I’m Italian) and career women (I get up at 6 a.m. for work). Then he asked, “How many kids are you looking to have?”
I excused myself and headed to the ladies’ room. Afterwards, I walked back to the table apprehensively, half-hoping that he had left me with the bill. As I got closer, I realized he was scrolling through my phone. “I guessed your password!” he laughed, holding it up. “It was ‘Love!’ Like what we’re going to be in. Are you busy tomorrow?” My mouth dropped.
Laura rates her date (out of 10): 1
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