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Vancouver Dating Blog: The Garbage Man

My blogging and dating in Vancouver journey began where all terrible things begin--on the internet. After a six year relationship (long-distance) with my ex, and a few months of therapy and singledom, I jumped back in the ocean of love (read: plentyoffish.com)

It was 2010 and apps like Tinder and Bumble were nothing but a futuristic dream.

I called him Garbage Man (not because of my opinion of him but because that was his profession, though hey! if the shoe fits amirite?!).

He messaged me on plenty of fish. I responded. Witty repartee. Witty repartee. Witty repartee.

Pros:  He's (seemingly) normal; he's tall (with a good stance): and he has the witty repartee Cons: His photos are not great (I'd give him a 4, maybe) though I think there's potential (and before you get too judgemental of my judgement of him, know that I think myself to be a solid 2 and Brad Pitt (the Brad Pitt of my youth, not the one who cheated on Angelina because that subtracts like 5 points) is somewhere up around 8.

We continued chatting.

Witty repartee Witty repartee. Witty repartee. He asked for my phone number. I gave it to him. He texted. I texted back. He asked if he could call me (I know right?! We used to call each other which is absolutely WILD!).

I said no, because I was super busy with school, but that I'd call him the next night. Next night I called but he didn't answer so I left a message (they were truly the wildest of times!) I called a friend and while chatting to her, he calls. I don't want to answer because I'm shy and I hate talking on the phone but my friend makes me.

We talked for about half an hour (which is crazy because I have a pay as you go phone plan! Fuck!) He asked if we could hang out.

I said yes and we make a date for Saturday night.

I send pictures of all the cute boys I'm talking to at the moment to my friend. She firmly supports a few and says I can do better than most. Female friendship is truly peak joy for me. I'm super nervous about internet dating (which is super wild given that I've never dated any other way but still). Somehow everything feels so much more anxiety inducing at 28 then it did when I was 22. My friend convinces me to go on the date; she clearly sees potential.

Saturday He calls around noon to confirm. We make plans to meet at Starbucks at 6pm Halfway between his place and mine And then the rest happened like a scene straight out of a romantic comedy...

Two adorable singles head out for a pseudo-blind date. They decide to meet at a Vancouver coffee shop, a seemingly safe and fool-proof plan. Pragmatically the two singletons choose a Starbucks coffee shop halfway between their respective homes.  The girl google-maps the meeting spot, just to double check the Starbucks location.The two daters set off, each in their own vehicles, boy aren't they cute.  They arrive at the shopping complex where they have planned to meet up.  He goes to the Starbucks on the south side of the mall; she goes to the one on the north side of the mall. What are the bloody chances???  They both think they've been stood up and go home...

SCREECH! Just kidding (but could you imagine?!?!)

Luckily for the both of us, Garbage Man called to see where I was at, we quickly figured out what had happened and respotitioned ourselves accordingly.

And that's when all the magic began...

When I arrive, I recognize Garbage Man immediately (as he's standing right outside). This is a huge relief to me since one of my biggest dating fears (after murder) is that there'll be this awkward moment where I don't recognize the other person I'm meeting (or they're just not there yet) and I have to stand around feeling like a big loser. Regardless, there he was. We hug (because I'm a hugger). He is tall and adorable (if I thought he was a 3 or 4 in his pictures, he's easily a 5 or 6 in person). Excellent stance, nice hoodie, very good hair, fantastic cologne.

We go inside and order our coffees. He's chivalrous in all the ways that take minimal effort but I appreciate on the first date (taking the coffee order, paying, asking if I need splenda or a stir stick, etc.). We spend the next two hours chit chatting like it's our business. The time flies by in a mirage of miraculous chatter, butterflies and giggles, smirks and cute smiles, and really just everything that is witty banter at it's finest. While it would be an exaggeration (in hindsight which is usual for me) you could honestly call the Garbage Man, the date whisperer at this point because he really swept me off my feet (relatively speaking).

At the end of two hours, our coffees now long finished, he suggests getting food, and though I'd sooner chew someone else's gum then eat in front of him at this juncture (yeah that's right, I'm a woman with food issues who doesn't want to eat in front of a guy right away), not to mention I'm actually not at all hungry what with all those butterflies filling me up, but I'm not ready for the the date to end, so we go for food.

After dinner, having made the estimation that he's neither a serial killer nor an absolute dud, we go back to his place to watch a movie.

All the juicy (and hilarious) details of what exactly went down on this first date, can be found in my debut collection of short stories: Love Poems For Butchers

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