• Victoria Nachos

Dating 101: Chapter 1 - Learning TEDanese

Have you ever gone out with someone and the reality of the experience was too wild and ridiculously to keep greedily to yourself? Because that's what happened when I met a man named TEDski and honestly I don't think I'll ever get over it. It wasn't traumatic per se, more like pure comedy gold--so bad (but good) that it practically writes itself. And that's why I can't keep it to myself and have to write it here, for your enjoyment (and ridicule).

It all begins on Plenty of Fish, when I get a message from Ted.

His screen name starts with “Texas” and I can't help but hope that he might actually be from Texas because I have a thing for American Men (I blame Friday Night Lights). My hope is quickly dashed though because it's nothing more than a nickname from childhood.

Ted's actually messaged me before, but I wasn't really feeling him so I never responded. But now that things are in the shitter with Garbage Man, I'm a bit more open. Plus, this time when he messages he says something funny and after a few messages back and forth he seems to think I'm funny (which is the real fantasy if I'm being honest). The biggest issue I'm seeing is the fact that he's only 5'10, which is still a full 3 inches taller than me at 5'7 but still.

Sidebar: I have this policy about height (mostly out of my own insecurities over being fat), which is that the guy has to be taller than me because I'm definitely going to be bigger than him in terms of circumference. I've broken the policy in the past (and lets be honest, I'd break it for David Spade or Zach Galifianakis or literally anyone I really wanted to, but I don't like to).

Ted and I continue to message back and forth, really taking full advantage of our witty banter as foreplay. He seems like a party-guy but when I mention that I don't drink anymore, he acts super cool about it and suggests virgin margaritas for our first date.

After the first couple of messages, Ted starts to "sign off" with varying variations of his name--Tedski, Tederino, and in doing so starts an inside joke with a friend (whom I tell all about Teddy) and forms the beginning of TEDanese.

I haven’t officially decided if I think his signoffs are funny until I start telling a friend all about them and nearly pee my pants laughing (possibly because the joke takes on a life of it's own when I start addressing my messages to Ted with different monikers as well).

Hey Notorious T.E.D...What’s up TEDinator?...you get the idea.

The joke continues to permeate everything, becoming a language on it's own between my friend and I.

“How was your day?” she asks

“It was TEDtastic!”

“Like my new shoes?”

“They’re TEDmazing!”

Even her husband begins to pick up the language and offers this TEDzinger:“If it doesn’t work out between Ted and Victoria, at least they could have a TEDtonic friendship”

I tell Ted none of this and we carry on messaging. He asks what I like to do on first dates and I tell him that I think coffee is good because it's casual and low key but that shooting pool is more fun and gives you something to do rather than just start at each other, though it's harder to dash if things aren't looking good. Ted messages in agreement and after asking me out for Friday night (and I agree) he assures me that he'll take care of it (something I love to hear to be honest). We move our conversation to texting, and I ask him whereabouts he lives. He responds that he lives in Kits and then texts: Go for a walk on the beach?

This stops me in my tracks because it's Wednesday. He had asked me out for Friday. Is he asking me to go for a walk today, prior to our date? That seems weird, so probably not. Is he suggesting we go for a walk on the beach on our first date? Which wouldn't be weird if it wasn't Vancouver, and MID MARCH and thus cold as hell still. I don't respond for awhile and then he texts to ask if he can call me later when he's home after work? I say sure.

I end up accidentally missing his call because I was wrestling with my printer (insert numerous explicatives). At least, I think I've missed his call because it's from a different number but he explains in his voicemail that it's a landline. I call his number back and a man answers:

“Hey...is this Ted?...It’s Victoria”

“Yeah...hey how’s it going?”

“Good...sorry I didn’t answer...I was wrestling with my printer”


“Uh...who is this?”

“It’s Victoria, isn’t this TED?” I ask completely confused (hadn't I already asked if this was Ted?)

“Oh...okay wait...I’ll go get the lad...”

My mind is spinning at this point. Who was I just talking to? Did he say Lad? Holy shit, I mean that did kind of sound like an old man's voice?! Maybe I should hang up (yes bitch HANG UP), you are not about to date a 37 year old man that lives with his parents, yes absolutely hang up.


(Shit! too late!)

So I hear him out and it turns out it was his roommate (not father lol!). Also turns out his roommate's name is Victor so he probably just heard me say my name originally and that’s why he thought it was for him. All and all a cute story but yikes embarassingly awkward. We talk for awhile and he's an excellent conversationalist. There are occasional corny moments but lots of laughter. We talk about our families, travelling, where we've both lived, etc.etc.etc. We talk for half an hour and then make plans for Friday. He suggests a live band, maybe a nice lounge...either way...a step up from coffee for sure. I'm very excited. On Thursday there are some cute messages on POF. Then Thursday night he calls. Could be just because I’m busy with school, but I feel it’s a smidgeon overkill. Then I metaphorically slap myself. Bitches be crazy! We want men to be responsive, communicative and keep us posted on plans, but then they do and I find it smothering. You really can’t win with me lol! So I cut him some slack. Though he may have chipped just a tinsy tiny bit off my excitement sculpture. On Friday around 3pm he texts. He knows that’s when I get off school. And he wants to change the activity for our date to...

wait for it....

wait for it....

A bonfire! Need me to repeat that? A BONFIRE. On the beach. IN FUCKING MARCH!

And yes, I do live in Vancouver (a city notorious for its oneness with nature), and yes, a bonfire and watching the sunset does have romance appeal. And yes, I am always attempting to be breezy and relaxed when it comes to dating, a real "go with the flow" kind of gal.

But......Bonfires are illegal on Vancouver beaches and I am a goddamn rule follower, a bit of a nerd if you will. I mean, I've thought about having a gangbang, sure, but I've also never not worn my seatbelt in a car, ya know?

Plus, the idea of an (illegal) bonfire seems very involved and difficult to ditch the date if it's not going well. But after some quick thought, I caved because I didn't want to be stuck up or difficult and Ted agreed that if the cops came, he would lag back (maybe twist an ankle or something) so that I could easily make my escape from the law.

After all, it's not about out running the bear, just the other guy you're with (ie. the bear's next meal).

And so I agree, to a first date of an illegal bonfire on a Vancouver beach in goddamn April.

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So after agreeing to the WILD suggestion that an illegal bonfire on the beach in March would be a great first date idea, Ted and I made plan