A First Date to Remember

It was the summer of 2010; I was recently single after a long relationship with my ex-fiancée and another short-rebound fling. I swore I was going to stay away from men and the dating scene and concentrate on me for a while (you know that saying that everyone uses after a devastating breakup). But low and behold, I had a date. And he was meeting me at my apartment for drinks before dinner. I was nervous, excited and giddy all at the same time.

I spent a couple of hours tidying my one bedroom, 700 square foot apartment, making sure the pillows on my futon were just right and that my desk didn’t look overly messy but portrayed the essence of a good worker and business woman. My profile on Plenty of Fish did say that I was “a business woman with upper management written all over me”, so I had better play the role.

I didn’t really believe in meeting anyone on those dating sites, but I found myself connecting with this guy online and then over the phone. I met him briefly at a restaurant by the airport for a casual drink. He was as a pilot, and just finished work and on his way home so it was convenient. He was better looking in person then in his profile picture, and he was French, so very romantic. He appeared to be the total package.

Our first meeting was magical. We had a couple of beers, talked about our jobs and more importantly when we were going to meet again. There was an instant attraction on both ends. We decided for our first “official” date, he was going to meet me at my apartment on the weekend, have some pre drinks and then go out for dinner.

After we finished our casual drinks, he walked me to my car, we said goodbye, he gave me a hug, and then suddenly, he leaned in, parted his lips and his enormous, wet tongue found its way into my mouth. I was thrown off and in so much shock, that I’m not even sure I kissed him back. In hindsight it was probably the most romantic kiss I had ever had. When I mentioned it to my friend afterwards, just to verify that it wasn’t really weird for an unexpected tongue lashing at a primary meet and drink, she waved it off and said “Meh he’s French, that’s what they’re like.” I accepted that answer, and proceeded with my excitement of a hot date with a hot guy on Saturday.

Expectations are what kills relationships right from the beginning, I had read that somewhere once, so I planned not to have too many expectations or life altering moments moving forward with this date. I was still nervous and wanted to look presentable, so I proceeded to straighten my hair and put on some make-up. I looked at the time, he was going to be here in less than an hour. To calm my nerves, I opened a bottle of beer, and slammed a quick shot of fireball.

My biggest pet peeve are people who are not courteous of time, my time in particular. If we make plans to go out and you show up late, then I’m not a happy camper and probably won’t be for at least an hour afterwards. I have always felt that if I can show up on time or at least 5-10 minutes beforehand then everyone else should do the same. Luckily this guy seemed to be very time conscious, probably because he flies planes for a living, so, he showed up to my apartment door at precisely 7 minutes before our date. He presented himself with two bottles of wine and a duffle bag which I could only assume was filled with overnight clothes. I wasn’t too sure how I felt about that, but clearly, he was planning on drinking on this date and I couldn’t exactly let him drink and drive home. So, I brushed it off and welcomed him in, he proceeded to give me a kiss on the mouth, again, and on the neck? Apparently, we were getting sensual already. I quickly pulled away, blushing at what clearly added another wave of shock value to my normal date routines, took the bottles of wine and placed them on the kitchen table.

Obviously sensing my nervousness, he took a seat on my futon and looked around. “Nice apartment, lots of books I see.”

“I love reading, can I get you a drink?” I opened two bottles of beer, poured them into 2 steins and brought them over. We sat there and chatted for a while, my nervousness wore off and I started thinking about my future with this guy and how I always wanted to be with someone who was affectionate and who absolutely adored me. “This could be the guy,” I thought to myself.

We decided that we would stay local and have dinner at a nearby Thai food restaurant, a little more than 30 steps from my apartment.

We entered the restaurant and sat down in a semi private location and proceeded to order a litre of house red wine. My date grabbed my hands from across the table and looked deeply into my eyes. “This is bliss I thought.” He was clearly into me, and I was getting all googly eyed over him.

We ordered a couple of dishes of Thai food and shared them. I’m not one of those people who eat a salad when I go out for dinner, I like to eat a meal, and more often than not its because I also like to have a couple of drinks. I know that drinking on an empty stomach causes me to feel the effects of alcohol like one would if struck by a bolt of lightening, which then leads me to have a long nap, and just like that, date and evening are ruined. So, I ate a healthy amount of green curry, rice, and pad Thai. That litre of red wine also never looked to be empty and neither did my wine glass.

Once dinner was over, we split the bill and stood up to leave. My date then proceeded to kiss me so passionately that I once again got that “weak in the knees” feeling which caused me to swoon. He asked what I wanted to do next. It was still early in the evening, and it didn’t make sense to go back to my small apartment, so we decided to go to my friend’s house, who has a pool and a kick ass backyard. It was about a 10-minute walk from where we were. I messaged her to let her know to be expecting us and that we were on our way.

I was giddy walking down the street with this hunk holding my hand, it felt almost dreamlike. I literally could have been walking on air.

And then it happened. My stomach began to uncontrollably rumble, I felt as though I was almost about to give birth to a 10-pound baby, and within seconds, out it came. The loudest, biggest most excruciating noise was slowly being released from the pits of my stomach and out into the air.

I farted.

I felt like a sasquatch couldn’t have made a noise that loud.

It emanated the sound of a rather small earth quake or a volcano erupting from the bowels of the earth.

I was beside myself.

So much so that I started laughing, also just as loud as the harrowing noise from my backside, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know what else to do, I glanced sideways at my poor date, and all he could do was look at me and say, “well at least we got that out of the way.”

The lesson to be learned here: Nervousness, red wine and Thai food are NOT recipes for a good first date.