Paying lip service
Some women are understandably nervous about meeting men in person after talking with them online. I can’t say I blame them. What’s that famous phrase? Men are afraid women will laugh at them; women are afraid men will kill them.
So I’ve become very accustomed to last-minute cancellations or excuses to delay when talking with women on dating apps. I just roll with it. Sometimes I end up feeling like I’m trying to not scare off a frightened deer. I just have to keep slowly approaching and earn their trust. I’m sure lots of women have heard some awful reactions to being canceled on, so if they do cancel with me, I simply let them know it’s all good, and we can try again another time.
It was getting darker earlier and earlier in the day during the fall when I matched with Damsa on Bumble. She seemed very meek and shy, just scraping into my age range as she was eight years younger than me. Her opening message was just “Hi :)” so I had to get the ball rolling with an actual conversation.
Her profile was pretty sparse. Just a few photos taken at different angles and slightly filtered. But she passed the one test that forgave a bad profile: looks. Even with the filtered photo of half her face with the sun shining straight into the lens obscuring most of the frame, it was clear she was very attractive. It’s wild how shallow I could get, but if it turned out the conversation was boring or one-sided, I never stuck around for long.
We started talking a bit. She was a journalist who had moved here recently from Toronto for work. She wasn’t the biggest fan of Winnipeg’s first impressions, mainly seeing the city through different news assignments.
So far it’s been not bad, minus the part where I got my Amazon packages stolen from my neighbours
Wow, stealing your packages, so nice that we could make you feel welcome!
She was doing local reporting and had to be on camera a lot (oh that’s why she looks so good, I thought). We talked a bit about how in communications school I’d taken some journalism, but she chastised me for joining “the dark side” of public relations instead. We joked around about how she could show me the behind-the-scenes drama in the world of local news. Then she brought up how my profile mentioned doing stand-up comedy once before.
Btw you did standup comedy? That takes some serious skill/confidence 👏🏼🤣
Haha I did! It was scary but fun… I almost forgot half of my set up there, but I shook it off and got it done. It was a verrrry friendly audience, so I basically thought I was the funniest person of all time that night
Maybe they were laughing at your jokes because you’re cute
Haha mmm if it were that easy then you must have people rolling in the halls with laughter at every joke you make! 😉
😋🙊
In general, I am an energy matcher. When it comes to texting, I don’t start bringing up thirsty compliments or talking about sex or anything risqué unless they do first. But I’d had less than 10 messages from her, and already she was throwing around “you’re cute?” It was innocent enough, but hey, I’ll take it. I guess she was in no mood to dance around anymore, I thought.
She asked how long I’d been on Bumble, saying it was her first time on a dating app. She added that she had a habit of never leaving her place, so her friends told her to try this out instead.
We were already talking about dating. No family, no hobbies, no “how’s your day.” This was all going faster than normal, but I wasn’t complaining. I commended her on trying something new and asked how her experience had been so far.
How much do you love pics of men holding fish?
🤣🤣 that and construction hat pics! There’s so many… have you met anyone on here recently?
Not super recently. Do you wanna change that and meet up sometime?
Yes please! :)
She opened that door wide open for me, I couldn’t not take it! While we hadn’t done much messaging, some fun banter was certainly there and she seemed driven and intelligent with an interesting job. It made sense to me to move it to in-person already.
I had a hockey game the next day, but we agreed to meet for drinks afterward. She said she didn’t have a car, so asked for it to be downtown, and we settled on The Forks.
The next day, I giddily finished my game of hockey and checked my phone, ready to race out of there and shower so I could meet her. Then I saw the message, “Change of plans actually. Can’t do today :( sorry.”
I told her it was OK, we’d try again another time. Our messaging frequency went down a bit. I didn’t want to pressure her, but I also had to protect myself. If she was just paying me lip service and wasn’t really sincere about meeting, then I didn’t want to put emotional effort into something that wasn’t going to be reciprocated. I stayed in touch, cautiously, for another couple of days.
Btw I do hope to meet you in person one day :) sorry I had to cancel last time…
No worries, we’ll meet some other time then! I still want some journalism behind the scenes
😘
🙃
The next day, late at night (presumably after an evening news shift) she sent, “hey Alan :) if you’re still down to meet up, I’m available this Saturday.”
I saw it in the morning and responded back saying Saturday worked for me. We settled on the Yellow Dog Tavern, which she said she heard was good from her friends. I checked in a few days later on Saturday to see if she was still down to meet, and she said she was.
Saturday night rolled around. Damsa texted me “Hey I’m about to leave soon” and I responded, “See you soon!”
I showed up at the Yellow Dog and it was freezing cold. I was wearing a leather jacket that I thought I looked good in but was not nearly enough protection from the piercing wind. I tried to keep my hands in my pockets to keep them warm, but I kept whipping them out to check my phone and see how long she was taking or if she texted me again.
Next, I got a text from her that said, “I’m kinda nervous now lol… I’ll be there in 5 mins”
Here we go. I was back into the not-frightening-off-a-deer territory. I sent back “Lol it’s all good. K I’ll meet you outside” but started to realize the chances of her never showing up were slowly increasing.
But I thought staying outside would help me out. I figured she could catch a glimpse of me and ensure I wasn’t a catfish. I’d make it as easy as possible for her. Also, if I went inside and she never showed up, I thought it would be pretty humiliating to have to leave alone. Unfortunately, that meant I was standing outside in the freezing cold for longer and longer. 10 minutes later, she still hadn’t arrived.
“Everything ok?” I texted her.
“Yes sorry should be there shortly”
Oh boy. Would this be my first time actually going out on a date and being stood up?
Another five minutes went by and finally, I saw her. She was walking down the street in high heels and a long elegant jacket with straight, flowing, raven-coloured hair that fell gracefully past her shoulders. She apologized for being late, I told her it was no problem at all, and we walked into the Yellow Dog.
The place was absolutely buzzing, filled with a raucous crowd of people who seemed like they were a decade older than us (OK, older than me) but were drinking like they were a decade younger. Damsa and I found a table to sit at and began to talk with each other.
It was very pleasant and polite. She was obviously super nervous. New to the city, not knowing many people, and just trying out dating apps, I felt like I had to talk to her with kid gloves on. I wanted her to feel comfortable. I asked her about moving to Winnipeg and she talked about her family in Toronto and how they came from Afghanistan originally. She said how breathtaking her country was, with big mountains and natural beauty that Winnipeg sadly lacked. Her family had some traditional views that she sometimes butted up against, though she didn’t sound like she was religious. She’d gotten into journalism and wanted to get her Master's degree as well, and I told her about my small forays into journalism through the Creative Communications program I had taken. I knew some of the people at her news station and we gossiped a little about the local news scene.
The whole vibe was nice, but reserved. I thought this was basically just a first date to prove I was not a creep or a weirdo, and on future dates, we might let loose a bit more. But I was fine for now to just talk about safe topics and learn more about each other.
After an hour or so, we started to talk a bit about the dating scene in Winnipeg and our dating histories. Damsa had been with someone before, but it never got too serious. Her description of him gave off a very flashy “player” vibe, where Damsa was just another trophy of his to show off.
Suddenly, we saw that the Yellow Dog had completely emptied out. Damsa and I looked at each other confused. Where did everyone go? There wasn’t a Jets game to go to. A concert hall was right next door though. This must have been a crowd that was pre-gaming before a concert was about to start.
Damsa suggested we go somewhere else a bit more lively since we were now the only two people in the whole bar. She lived nearby and wanted to stay within walking distance so she didn’t get lost, so we went to Brown’s Social House nearby.
We walked there together, and I could feel she was getting more relaxed with me, even flirting a bit. The Yellow Dog clearing out could have been a natural end to the date if she hadn’t been feeling it, after all.
We got to Brown’s and found a booth. I sat opposite Damsa as she excitedly grabbed a menu and looked through it.
“Do you want to get shots?” she asked aloud.
I looked at her wide-eyed but willing.
“Let’s get shots!” she said to our server.
She seemed like a completely different person now. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a shot, but I figured this was Damsa’s way of saying she now felt comfortable enough with me after talking together for a while.
We downed our shots and ordered two more drinks. Once the server walked away, she smirked at me.
“So, how big is your dick?”
I’m sorry what?
Ten minutes ago she was just talking about how her traditional Afghani mother didn’t like her dating, and now she wants to know how big my dick is? I processed very quickly that Damsa was finished playing up her meek angle and was now going with a different tact. I was totally flabbergasted, but down to play her game.
“Why don’t you feel it and find out,” I said.
Who the fuck do you think you are, I asked myself! When have I ever said something like this in my life? This is not who I was, right?
But no. I am an energy matcher. I was just taking her serves and volleying them right back.
All decorum went out the window almost instantly. I thought perhaps she would playfully stretch out her foot under the table to feel what was going on down there.
“Sit on this side of the booth, beside me,” she responded.
What was going on?
You can’t get a handjob in Brown’s Social House. You can’t get a handjob in Brown’s Social House. You can’t get a handjob in Brown’s Social House.
Or, you shouldn’t get a handjob in Brown’s Social House…
I sat on her side of the table as she felt around OVER the pants to see what was going on.
“Oooh, that’s what I’m talking about.”
The server came with our drinks and gave a very suspicious look at how we were now seated at the same side of the booth. I would have to tip him well.
I did not have the nerve to whip my dick out right there in Brown’s Social House. So we did not physically go any further, but we did keep up the flirtatious banter. We were now talking much more openly to each other. Mainly about sex. Damsa was a completely new woman with the venue change, proudly talking about what she liked and didn’t like; what she’d done and hadn’t done.
The conversation was fun, exciting, and a total turn-on. I don’t know if I was more amused by the content or by the complete 180 that Damsa had undergone.
Finally, Damsa lamented that her flashy ex-boyfriend had not provided her with particular sexual acts that some men and certain renowned DJs refused to do for women. She really liked this particular act, but it had been some time since a man had done that for her.
The night was getting kind of late, and I could take the temperature of the vibe pretty well, I thought. So I oh-so-nonchalantly said, “If you want me to **** you *****, I could do that for you.”
She flashed her dark brown eyes at me with a devious smile on her face.
“Could you?”
I’d never paid a bill faster (tipping generously, of course) as we got out of there and walked back to her place. She pointed out the neighbour she thought stole her Amazon packages as we strolled inside her modest apartment. She put a kettle on for some tea, but we never got to it.
I then graciously offered to carry out some favours for her, which she was more than grateful for and subsequently paid me back in kind.
After that, we called it a night.
Not remotely the first date I expected. But I was intrigued to see where it would go. She checked in early the next morning.
Thanks for last night :)
That was fun 🥵. We’ll have to do it again sometime.
I agree 🥰
But there would be no next time. We talked for another week, but as we set up our second date, she sent me:
Hey! I wanted to let you know that I’m going to delete my bumble account. Lol… I think I found a bf 🤣 but wanted to let you know so you don’t think I just ghosted you. I had a lot of fun with you ;p
I was a little surprised. But after thinking more about it, I figured it was for the best. I always felt it was better to end something early than before a real emotional investment took hold.
But still — what a strange first date! It showed me I could never really predict what was going on in someone else’s head. I was just going to take whatever was thrown at me and do my best to sort it out. Damsa and I had a fun time getting to know each other, and I was happy to lend her a sympathetic ear, among other things, if only for one night.
