Date#2: Mr Sex Pest

Before you read any further, I need you to make me a promise: Don’t judge me for sitting through this date rather than running away, really fast.

I’m trying to approach this Online dating thing with resilience. So while Mr Sex Pest was, well, as the name describes, I found him kind of entertaining and wanted to see whether his creepy vibe would eventually wear off. It didn’t.

Also, in my defence he was ridiculously hot. Seriously. Smoking. Hot. Go on, tell me I’m shallow. Are you done? Good. Let’s move on now…

So this friendly and down-to-earth guy approached me on the dating website and I decided it’d be wise to meet up with him sooner rather than later. You see, I didn’t want to give my hopeful brain time to create an unrealistic image of him. We emailed for a bit while I was in India, and decided to go on a date when I got back. I’d managed to escape Delhi Belly so was 100% fit to find my soulmate immediately. Exciting!

When I arrived to my date, my first reaction was, “Wow!” Sure, after the disaster that was Mr Drainer I wasn’t expecting much. But this guy seemed genuinely cool. He was more attractive than his photos (sorry to be repetitive, but wow). And even more importantly, he was wonderfully warm. He made me feel comfortable right away and we were off and rolling with stupid jokes and effortless flirting.

The plan was to have a quick drink at a bar and then head out for dinner. As I waited with him for the bar dude, he checked whether I wanted a vodka-soda-lime because he remembered it was my drink of choice from an email conversation we’d had.

Cute, and he listens?! JACKPOT!

I politely accepted, but warned him I was driving so could only have a couple. Truth is, I can be a bit of a lush. So having my car there ensured I wouldn’t smash a bottle of vino and lose control. I assumed it was stock-standard date behaviour, but his response was the first sign of the creep factor.

He said, “Really? Most girls just want to get drunk and shag me.” I didn’t know whether it was a joke or not. So I stared at him, confused. Seeing this he laughed and told me to, “Chill,” because he was just, “Playin’ with me.” Okay Snoop Dog. Whatever you say.

Now I look back, it definitely wasn’t a joke.

So we finished our drinks (I kept my eye on mine at all times, just in case) and walked to dinner. He thought it’d be hilarious to gently bump into my side as we strolled. I would generally find this kind of physical playfulness endearing… But he accidentally knocked me into an old man. So that was awkward.

We sat down at a cute outdoor table on Lygon St and looked through the wine list. He wanted red, I wanted white. No worries, we could simply get a glass of each. But when the waitress arrived, he ordered a glass of red for himself, and a bottle of white for me. When I protested he got all cheeky and tried to convince me to leave my car overnight.

With friends I would find this seriously tempting. But on a first date? With a stranger? I don’t think so. Still, he pleaded with me. And unfortunately I had to bring out the serious voice.

No means no.

We managed to move on from that and pick up the mood with talk about our jobs. He was ambitious, positive, and proud of everything he’s achieved. Also, unlike Mr Drainer, he found my career choices exciting and impressive, not stupid. That was nice.

But then entree time came around. He suggested we get a giant plate of oysters and wore a gross grin as he said it. But I simply ignored the grin and told him I’m not the biggest fan – but he could totally get some.

“Get some what?,” he asked. Oysters… “Oh, I thought you meant something else,” he said with another gross grin. No. Definitely not.

Suddenly his enthusiasm for oysters waned. However, when the waitress came back, he sneakily tried to order some anyway. I checked if they were for him, but he said they were for me. I declined the order, trying desperately not to sound like a killjoy. Meanwhile, the waitress thought we were total freaks.

But I just didn’t get it. Do oysters really have that much of an affect on our libido? And even if they do, what was he thinking he’d achieve? Did he think I’d take one look at the slimy things and decide I couldn’t possibly resist them? Or was he planning on force feeding me? Slipping one into my drink perhaps?

I couldn’t help but laugh. He was persistent. And dumb.

And so, the tug of war between attraction and disgust continued through the meal. But his next move blew my mind.

To be continued…