Second Date Gone to Shit

Right before I met my now boyfriend of 5 years, I went on a row of terrible dates. The worst date of them all was the one right before him. Ironically this 3rd date guy was also Indian (mostly irrelevant). After that date I said, “Thats it. I’m over it. I’m not trying to find someone anymore.” And then of course, boom, Josh appeared.

When I started writing my first book, I figured it would be a memoir. I soon realized I needed to let my imagination go wild and ru free. But I recently found some of the stuff I wrote for that first book idea, my true life experiences. Enjoy.

I’m driving my mom’s black Volvo SUV with a dorky Indian guy riding as passenger princess. He’s pulling card after card from a question game trying desperately to keep the conversation going. It’s the tail end of winter. The weather isn’t warm yet but it’s not a frigid type of freezing. The sun is setting even though it’s only 4:30pm.

This is our second date, we’ve explored the neighbourhood I grew up in. The first date he thoroughly planned exploring his. He’s sweet, intelligent and kind but there certainly is no sex appeal between us. This isn’t because I’m white and he’s brown, although it is the first date I’ve been on with someone who’s not the most typical looking white boy with a splash of Italian. 

We had two FaceTime dates, then one in person and then this one. The spark isn’t there. I don’t feel nervous around him or like I want to jump his bones. At this point it’s been going on too long and I’m a bit bored. 

I’m pulled out of my haze when he asks, “so I’m having a really good time right now, would you like to go on a third date?” His brown eyes look at me intently, eagerly waiting for my answer. 

I slump in my seat and am grateful I’m driving so I can look at the road instead of his excited face. About 5km ago, basically right when I directed him back to the car so I could drive him home, I’d decided I’m not doing another date. 

“Do you really think I should go?” My mind flashes back to calling one of my closest friends to figure out what I should do. “The date was nice, he put a lot of thought into it” I told her, “But I just don’t know if I like him like that.”

“If anything Jess, just go, you never know what will happen. At the very least, it’ll be a story for the podcast.” She was right about one thing.

I decide to be honest with him. I see the three paths laid out infront of me. One, lie to him and agree to go on another date, ghost him later at home. A slow fade of never responding to his texts ever again. But I know how that feels. Ive been ghosted before and it hurt like a bitch. Even after only one date, being ghosted never feels good. The second option is i still lie and I just tell him over text im not interested. This puts me in the same position of being dishonest right to his face. Something I was just on the receiving end of. I was so embarrassingly sad when the last guy I went on a few FaceTime dates and one in person with told me over text he wasn’t interested. I truly had my hopes up for him. 

So that leaves us to the last option, which for some god awful reason I decided to choose to just tell him I’m not interested. I’d been on so many crappy dates, I’ve had guys treat me in terrible ways. So why not try to be the bigger person and do what I thought was the right thing?

“Actually, I don’t think I’m interested in going on a second date.” I hesitantly say to him. 

Theres an awkward pause that feels like it goes on forever. I keep my head forward and avoid eye contact at all costs. 

“Oh” hes shocked. He’s processing. “W-why not?”

Oh no. I didn’t think this far ahead. What’s the nicest way I can word this?

“I just I think you’re a great person and everything. I think we’d be better off as friends.”

“I don’t understand” he says in disbelief. “I’ve had so much fun, I just think…”

“This isn’t about you, really. I just, I don’t think we match that well romantically.” How do these words just come out of my mouth? How do I think on my feet like this?

“I don’t think you’re right” 

Umm what? That I’m not right? How can you argue with feelings? 

“What do you mean?” I ask. 

“Well I just don’t think we haven’t explored the romantic connection.”

“What?”

“We’ve spent so much time exploring the intellectual connection. Getting to know each other, showing eachother around, talking. We haven’t explored the romantic connection.” 

What did I just get myself into… 

“What does that even mean?”

“We haven’t kissed, we haven’t talked about what we like in that way”

Oh my god, in no world do I want to discuss this with this guy. He’s just, this is not it. He keeps going. 

“I really like you. I think we’re great. So let’s spend some time exploring the sexual side of things, okay?”

Why did I do this. I didn’t calculate how much further the drive was to his house. 

“Jess, think about it” he says, “We both have curly hair, I love your podcast, I’m starting my own. How could this NOT work???”

Holy moly. What do I even say to this. 

I start with, “Listen, I’m not trying to offend you in any w-“

“Just would you just stop for a second” his voice is growing louder, “pull over so we can just talk about this”

My mind goes blank and my body goes number. I don’t know what else to do. Sure I’m in the drivers seat but it doesn’t feel like I have much control in this environment.

“Look, we click, we have great conversations, amazing intellectual connection. It’s the physical, we haven’t explored the physical really enough yet at all. Thats the problem. If we were to kiss, it could really help us take that next step to see if it’s really true that we aren’t compatible sexually. It’s a thought, really there is no pressure I just think it could be helpful because how could you really know without that part of it?”

I look out the window and suddenly it’s dark outside. How long have we been in this car? I’m losing track of time. I don’t have the type of parents who would call me if I was out late, interrupt a date to make sure I was okay. Not when it’s only 9:00 even though I picked this guy up at 3:00. I have to get out of here and I don’t know how. I forgot I was in the drivers seat, literally. 

“Okay fine” I lean in and kiss him. Not knowing what to expect or if this would solve literally anything. Ew his tongue is in my mouth immediately. His hand is aggressively holding the back of my neck. Everything about this feels wrong.

I pull away as quickly as I can without making it seem too abrupt. I’m walking on eggshells trying to keep this guy comfortable while my entire body is screaming get away. 

His hopeful eyes stare back at mine hoping I just felt some electrical current of energy and sexual chemistry when all I want is to throw him out of my car. 

“Wow, did you feel that -“

“It’s time for you to go home” I switch the gear from park to drive and tell him to direct me to his house. 

He goes on and on about how great that was, how that was the issue, we weren’t physically connected. As I’m about to pull in the roundabout to drop him off in front of his building, he asks me to park up.

“Just for 2 minutes please”

So I do. I feel so stuck, I’ve never had to be so assertive with someone. I think back to all the times my mom swallowed her opinions during a fight with me or my dad. The silent treatment that would circulate in our house instead of yelling or even a real conversation about what was wrong. This guy had been in my car for hours, my bladder was about to burst open and I couldn’t figure out how to just say “get the fuck out”

“Let’s see each other again,” he insists, “I’ll set up another date. We can spend the time talking about our romantic needs. It will be great.”

Clearly the first tactic didn’t work so I take this one and roll with it, “okay sounds good” I hop out of the car and open the backseat to pretend like I’m cold and need my sweater. I slam the back door closed and stay outside wrapping myself in it. Please dude, take a fucking hint. I’m dying over here. 

He finally gets out and lingers around my car. He asks for a hug and I shyly go on for it hoping to break it as fast as possible. “Oh wait, don’t you have to use the washroom?” He asks me. There’s one in my building, you could come in. “Nope” I walk to the front door of my car, “I’m all good, thanks though. See you later.” I hop in and close the door before he can say anything else. He steps a few feet away from my car and I pull out as fast as I can. I have no idea where my house is but it doesn’t matter. I take the easiest turn out of his building saying out loud to myself, “what the actual fuck was that”.

I throw on my GPS to get me home as fast as humanly possible. I drive with no music on, sitting in the silence of what just happened. I can’t even begin to process until the moment I get home and feel safe, the rage comes. I walk through the door of my parents bungalow in a quant neighbourhood outside Toronto and ignore my mom’s hopeful call of, “how’d it go?”. I lock myself into our ocean themed bathroom and start ripping off my clothes. As I finally release the pee that has been sitting inside of me for hours, I feel the stick of the sweat on every single part of my skin. I run myself a bath, my after date ritual to clean off any stink that was left by the weirdo I just spent my evening with.

As I sink into the burning hot water, I shake my head. How did this happen again? Another first date gone to shit, except this one blew up in flames? I can’t even deal with this again.