Zach and Richard
Zach is 43, lives at Yonge and Eglinton, and lost his common-law husband to cancer two years ago. He is “experiencing the singles scene and dating after a long absence.”
Zach likes volunteering and travelling, and says he is “very easygoing, witty, sometimes too nice, a bit uptight and usually prepared to give others the benefit of the doubt.” Zach says he is a “jeans and Polo guy — but I do change into a dress shirt for a first date.” Zach says, “I go on too few dates, and usually just coffee meetings to see if there’s a spark.” He says, “I’m looking for someone with intelligence, humour, maybe a few years younger. I love discussing forbidden topics like politics and religion.”
I met Richard at a gay singles social event. We seemed to hit it off. I told him a bit about having somewhat recently lost my partner to cancer — I’m newly dating again. We had a nice conversation, even if he complained a bit about the event. We exchanged email addresses with the intention of meeting up.
We decided to meet for dinner on a street with a lot of different restaurants, and when Richard arrived, we wandered the street reading menus and checking out the options. Richard turned out to be very particular about where he would eat. One restaurant was too hot, another too cold; one had no salmon, another had no chicken; one was empty, another too full. After walking up and down the block three times, revisiting all the menus, I strongly suggested we eat at what appeared to be the least objectionable to Richard.
Richard seemed nervous. He was tapping his glass and his silverware. He had difficulty keeping eye contact. He mentioned that he was currently working in a job that was outside his chosen profession. I retired early, but I had worked a variety of jobs in the same profession for my entire career and was interested in why he had switched careers midstream.
People’s career trajectories are always interesting. Richard went into a 20-minute dissertation about how he lost his job, with every minute detail included.
A few times, when Richard had mouthfuls of food, I tried to commiserate and offer my perspectives and experiences with the same thing, but that elicited no response or reaction as Richard continued with his story: He charged on with no acknowledgment of my statements. I refilled my wine glass many more times than I usually would have.
Being too polite, I went on to ask what Richard was doing now, and he went into another 20-minute dissertation about his new job, including the details of what was good about it and what was bad. He described the minutiae of his performance reviews, his training, his conversations with co-workers, the schedule of a typical day.
At no point in the discussion did Richard express any interest in what I thought or had to say, even though we had similar experiences. I felt more like his therapist helping him through his frustrations than his date.
We split the bill. I casually walked Richard to the subway — a better date would warrant another drink or dessert — and wished him well and a safe ride home. He was so involved still in his own story that he seemed startled to find that he had been walked to the subway as a subtle end to the evening. I told him that I wasn’t actually ready to date, consid- ering the recent death of my partner. Richard was shocked to learn about this — even though we had discussed it in detail before even meeting. Zach rates his date (out of 10): 2 Want to be a dating diarist? Email datingdiariescontact@gmail.com