Lewis and Violet
Lewis is a 34-year-old firefighter who lives in the west end. He says “My friends describe my style as ‘Wayne’s World meets J. Crew.’ Since turning 30, there are no more accessories or offensive T-shirts.” Lewis says “I asked three people to be brutally honest about me, and they said I’m funny, selfless, charming, engaging, and my favourite one: treats people equally.” Lewis says “I like being creative, biking the waterfront, going for nature walks, road trips. With friends it’s usually drinks at someone’s house and Jays games. I spend every Sunday with family.” Romantically, Lewis is looking for “The big three: friendship, laughter and chemistry. We should be able to communicate with ease, and laugh until our faces hurt. Chemistry is the tricky one.”
A few months ago, I officially renounced online dating. It made for funny stories, but not much else. I decided that I would meet someone the old-school way: in-person or through friends. Soon enough, I got a text from a friend wanting to set me up with her co-worker. I got her photos and number and decided to text her that night.
I liked Violet’s “text personality.” She was animated, sincere and often responded with an ever-so-gratifying “LMAO.” She replied to my texts promptly and almost always ended her message with a question. Hot.
As far as texting relationships go, she was the whole package. I asked to see her the following Friday. I grew out of the whole “let’s do drinks” thing for a first date, and now much prefer an activity, show or exhibit.
Since our “text relationship” was thriving, I wanted to bust out the most romantic first date I could think of, and decided on the ROM Friday Night Live event. Swoon city, right? Nope. She just wanted to go for a drink.
We went to a generic bar in the west end. After she shot down the ROM idea, she suggested we go somewhere near me for convenience. I appreciated this. I was five minutes late — thanks, Uber. I apologized to Violet profusely as soon as I arrived.
My first impression of her was a good one. She was attractive, highly educated and well-spoken.
The first 10 minutes were a bit choppy. I told myself to push through, because things always lighten up.
Somehow, they didn’t. We never got out of that “first part of the first date” zone. The vibe was “mature.” There was no flirting, no chirping and certainly no chemistry. We burned through the standard sterile and safe first-date questions, and there was just no connection, even though we were both listening closely and asking questions.
Her real personality resembled nothing of her text personality. I actually wondered if it was even her writing those texts all along.
Then it got worse, instead of better. Violet asked about my previous relationships, specifically the most recent one. I gave her the truthful breakdown in less than five minutes, and returned the question.
This proved to be a mistake. She torched 20 minutes on her narcissistic and manipulative ex-boyfriend. At about the 90-minute mark, I decided that this felt like work, and started strategizing a respectful exit.
As I mapped out my departure, it hit me: she hadn’t smiled yet! I have a decent repertoire of jokes that had all flopped, completely. Giving it everything I got, I threw out one last Hail Mary joke and boom: she smiled. My heart literally skipped a beat. Violet’s smile lit up the room. Wow.
I needed a moment to organize my thoughts, and process why she hadn’t smiled for 90 full minutes. The answer to that remains a mystery. I ruled out nervousness because she was opinionated and vocal, and devoured the appetizers in minutes — both very good things, by the way, they just rule out the “nervous” theory.
Ultimately, it didn’t matter: the damage was done, and there was no coming back. A person not smiling the entire date was too big of a turnoff.
Violet offered me a ride home. We hugged in her car and had a pleasant, classy goodbye that confirmed we had come up empty-handed in the chemistry department.
I hate the end of a first date. So much hinges on how you end it, and you know exactly what your friends will ask the following day. I closed with a borderline-cowardly “I had a great time, we should do this again sometime” and hopped out of the car. We never spoke or texted again.
Lewis rates his date (out of 10): 3 Want to be a dating diarist? Email datingdiariescontact@gmail.com