I should have known it was a mistake when he insisted on picking me up in his “vintage ride,” which turned out to be a rusted-out pickup with no passenger door handle. I climbed in and immediately noticed the dashboard littered with empty energy drink cans and an overwhelming scent of air freshener. Our destination? A gas station parking lot. He needed to fill up,and apparently I needed to hear about his “genius” plan to start a mobile car detailing business—despite his truck looking like it had been through a tornado. After ten minutes of him loudly complaining about gas prices and insisting he could “run his truck on whiskey if the government wasn’t in the way,” we were finally off to the date location: A buffet-style BBQ joint he proudly described as “where kings dine.” The restaurant was packed, but he refused to wait for a table. Instead, he convinced the manager to let us sit at a table meant for kids, complete with wobbly chairs and cartoon character placemats. He ordered three pounds of extra hot ribs, loudly boasting about how he could “out-eat anyone in town.” I kid you not—he ate those ribs with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t seen food in weeks. Sauce dripped down his chin and onto his shirt, but he didn’t wipe his hands once. Instead, he just kept licking his fingers with loud smacking sounds, pausing only to grunt at the hockey game on the screen. I tried to make conversation, but every time I asked a question, he shushed me because “the Leaf’s were on a power play.” He piled his plate with ribs, cornbread and macaroni salad, barely looking up as he shovelled food into his mouth. Between bites, he told me about his ex, who he claimed, “messed up his credit score and his trust in women.” Then came the “fun” part. He asked what I did for work, and when I said I was studying criminology, his face lit up. “That’s so hot,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to date someone smart enough to help me fight a speeding ticket.” He went on to explain how the last one wasn’t his fault because “the cop was obviously jealous of my truck.” The cherry on top? He took me home, blasting country music with the windows down despite it being freezing outside. As I got out, he handed me a leftover rib wrapped in a napkin, saying, “For later.” Needless to say, I blocked his number before I even got through my front door.
Love that you blocked him the before you even opened your front door. You are aware of the kind of person you deserve, and he wasn’t it. I am happy that you know you deserve a much higher level of respect on a first date.
He needs a reality check. A date involves two people talking to each other and getting to know each other, or at the very least just enjoying one another’s company. This was not that. This was toxic masculinity at its finest. I am sure he thought the date went great and exactly how he wanted it to go. I’m so happy you knew that he wasn’t good enough for you. I’m even more sorry for anyone who has ever gone on a date like this, with a person who doesn’t show respect to you or honestly even knowhow to go on an ‘actual date’ with a person.
This story was originally published in Volume 24, Issue 6 on February 6, 2025
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