Jennifer and Norman
Jennifer is a 39-year-old who lives in midtown Toronto and works as a health-care practitioner. She describes her style as “classic” and says “I’ve been told I’m articulate, very friendly, and a little bit quirky.” Jen says that until she met Norman she had never found a “good match.” She says “I was never looking for perfection, but someone who I connected with on all levels, who was kind and affectionate and funny, and willing to love my dog, and who wanted what I wanted: to be in a committed relationship.
I took my ill-mannered and sassy 11-year-old dog for a walk through Yorkville to the Oxley, a British pub. Walking onto the patio, my dog ran ahead of me and the leash got tangled around someone’s legs; in my effort to untangle her I clumsily tripped and fell forward. Embarrassed, I wiped myself off and sat down on the patio.
I ordered fish and chips, and then the man who was caught in my dog’s leash invited himself to sit down with me.
It worked for me, because I like a confident man. He was British, handsome, well-dressed and extremely charming, but I somehow didn’t find him arrogant. His name was Norman. He laughed and expressed genuine concern about my fall, then teasingly asked to do a fullbody scan looking for scrapes. I had actually scraped my hand and my knee, but didn’t care as much by then.
The flirty banter was amazing. I felt important and interesting talking to him because he gave me his full attention and genuinely tried to get to know me by asking questions. We smiled a lot and talked a lot, and when he very boldly complimented me with: “Can I say, you’re absolutely stunning,” my heart melted.
We then talked about my dog, where we live in the city what we do for work, travel, university and our families. I enjoyed his company on the sunny patio for over two hours, but I still wasn’t there as long as I would have liked to be — I had to leave to meet a neighbour at my apartment.
During our serendipitous “first date,” I consumed nearly a whole bottle of malt vinegar with my delicious fish and chips, right in front of Norman; I thought he’d be disgusted with me, but he didn’t mind.
He really did everything right: he was silly and warm-hearted, and he keenly asked when we could see each other again, in a cheeky British way. When I suggested a day later that week, he said three days was too far away. On our second date, he came bear- ing gifts, small things I had raved about the first time we met. Over wine and shared apps and entrées, I started feeling really connected to him. That feeling has lasted. He’s 43; I’m 39. I waited a long time — and dated all of Toronto! — to find this kind of quality. He’s it.
Jennifer rates her date (out of 10): 10 Want to be a dating diarist? Email datingdiariescontact@gmail.com.