The Itchy and Scratchy Show

I want to tell you about Gil.

This story began when I got a call from my good friend Caryn one Thursday morning to say she was very excited: she had had an accident the day before (that wasn't why she was excited...) and had just returned from having her car fixed at the garage. While there, she asked her mechanic, for about the hundredth time in the last year, whether he was 'available'. You see, Caryn REALLY likes her mechanic. He's professional, good-looking and polite. And since I used to date a mechanic, she knows I don't have a problem, in theory, with dating blue-collar workers. As fate would have it, Gil had broken up with his girlfriend the night before, which explains why Caryn was so excited. He did assure her that he was not yet ready to date but took my phone number and told Caryn he'd contact her before contacting me.

When Caryn called me to tell me she'd give him my number, I registered my official opposition to the whole idea. She doesn't know him, he doesn't speak any English, I couldn't imagine what we had in common, and I did not intend to waste yet another evening making up things to talk about with someone I have nothing in common with. So I told her that when he called her to say he was ready to phone me, she should invite him over and I'd meet him in the mutual territory of her home, with her and her husband as buffers.

Here's the problem: when he decided he was over his girlfriend and ready to date again, it was at 9am on Saturday morning (you have to admire the guy - a two-day mourning period for a nine-month relationship is a record in anyone's books). Due to the hour, Caryn was not answering her phone so he chose to phone me without any prior warning. Did I mention that this was at 9am on a Saturday morning, when I was obviously fast asleep and not exactly at my most receptive?

It turns out that Gil hasn't been without a girlfriend for more than a week since he was 16 years old, and time was running out. He had 5 days left to find someone before he started getting really lonely, and having gone to a nightclub the night before, where he danced to trance until 6 am, he was ready for some company. His disappointment was palpable when I told him I don't like nightclubs, but this did not deter him from wanting to meet me immediately. When I told him that I was busy and couldn't meet him the same day, he was terribly disappointed and almost pleaded with me to try and make a plan. I finally placated him by promising to meet him for coffee the following night, even though every instinct I have told me I should tell him I weigh 200 kilos and run for the woods…

And however bad the anticipation was, the reality of the date was far, far worse. It started with the most pathetic look of disappointment I've ever seen on a date's face when I arrived. And I'm pretty sure it's not because of how I look, but because of the car I arrived in. The offending vehicle was a Corsa (apparently not a good car at all, or so he told me during the date), and an old one at that (no ABS, no ABW, no turbo, no fuel injection, I should have been ashamed to be seen in public with that thing). I think he was scared I would park next to his Subaru turbo hat can rev up to 400 and go to 180 in 25 seconds (and he has the arrest warrant to prove it). The car conversation filled in all gaps through the night, and I was wondering most of the time whether one can claim car incompatibility as a reason to not continue a date?

A little about Gil. Gil takes good care of himself. He goes to gym regularly and looks good. As it happens, I could see this because he was wearing a pair of pants so tight it would take the jaws of life to remove them. It was not easy to not look at his pants, and he made things more difficult by constantly reaching down to 're-adjust'. He seemed to have an itch that just had to be scratched in his nether regions, on a regular basis, throughout the night. So every five minutes or so, the hand would go below the table and a bit of movement would occur 'somewhere down there' as I averted my eyes, yet again. I gave him the benefit of the doubt here and assumed that the skin-tight pants were just cramping his style, and that the itch was probably not caused by anything more ominous. At least I truly hoped so.

And to be fair, there was quite a large portion of time when he left himself alone. It coincided with when his iced coffee arrived and he had to find something to do with his chewing gum. This was a first for me - the chewing gum was rolled into a little ball and placed delicately on the pad of his index finger while he enjoyed his drink, and I must admit I couldn't take my eyes off it for most of the evening. When he noticed me staring, he did not try to hide his gum but explained that he's just one of those people who has to chew chewing gum all the time (I didn't know that was a specific 'type' of person), and continued holding his gum poised for re-entry to the mouth as soon as he finished his drink. I was truly nervous that he was going to give into the temptation to scratch 'down under' and would end up with a sticky crotch, but thank goodness for small mercies we were both spared that spectacle.

And my favourite part of the evening? It has to be when he explained that he has a cold for the second time in two weeks and is quite excited because he has worked out what is causing it. Apparently, he has germs in his stomache that are causing the colds, and he knows this because his motions have changed of late. I shit you not (excuse the pun). I was on a first date with someone who was telling me about his inconsistent bowel movements and I was meant to pretend to ENJOY myself???

Caryn was put on probation...

Another date, another therapy session

One of my first Internet dating experiences was so bad that I figure if that didn't put me off, nothing would. Being new to this, I was fairly innocent and didn't think to wonder why, under 'height' in his profile, he had written 'Will tell you later'. I must admit that I barely look at the 'stats' (at least, I did until that night…)

Before our date I went walking with a good friend, who gave me a few tips. Everyone has their tips. Especially the ones who have had no blind dates ever, or maybe one blind date where he looked like Brad Pitt and still sends flowers every valentine's day. My friend is one of those. She is actually jealous that I get to go on dates while she has to stay home with her adonis husband and two beautiful children. I told her if she thinks it's so exciting perhaps she should go on the date and I would stay at home with her husband (I was surprised at how quickly both she and her husband agreed to the plan. But that's a whole other story…). So, my friend and I went walking and she said she thinks I need to amend my attitude and treat the dates as if they were children. I am so good with kids, and they sense my confidence, so I win them over so quickly. So my friend thinks that if I could exude confidence with men the way I do with kids, I would be far more successful. Interesting point of view.

Turns out, this was not so hard to do, since my date is possibly only slightly taller than my sister's 15-year old daughters. He could be my child. I felt like Jack Spratt's wife next to the guy. He would weigh 50KGs when he was bloated. Imagine his horror when he saw me arrive, all 1.62 meters of me. Do you know how hard it is to find someone a head shorter than I am? There are maybe 3 men in this country who are shorter than me, and 2 of them are married. Well, last night I met the third. All he could say the whole night was how he didn't expect me to be so tall. One would have thought that if this was such an issue for him he would have bothered to check the stats on the site (it's not like I hid anything there…), or perhaps he’d have been honest about his own diminutive stature (and I’m being generous…)! At one point I got so sick of the tirade that I stopped walking and took off my shoes so he could see that actually I'm short too (not shorter than him, mind you…but short nevertheless), and then asked him to stop moaning about it…. I am certainly the last person in the world to consider height a 'must have' factor in a relationship, especially since mine is nothing to brag about!

He also couldn't decide what we should do. I had gone into Tel Aviv to meet him, we met 3 minutes from his house, but he couldn't decide where to take me. And when I told him that I didn't know the area and would prefer it if he picked a place, he told me it was obvious I like my men to ‘take control’. In the end I suggested we just drive to a park down the road for a walk - it's well lit and very public and I figured at least I wouldn't waste the poor guy's money since there was no way he'd ever get any return on his investment if he did spend on me. So apart from him being short, insecure and undecided, he also told me that right now he's just looking for a good time and is keen on short passionate relationships (= one-night stands) rather than anything with commitment attached. And here I was, wasting what would have been the perfect curl-up-on-the-couch-and-watch-the-penultimate-episode-of-The-Bachelor- night, just so I could walk around a humid park with an indecisive, deluded dwarf. Give me a break.

The cherry on top was when we got back in his car and pulled up to his house, where I told him he could take my parking spot. And would you believe it, he actually asked if I didn't want to come upstairs. And when I gave the usual polite 'it's getting late and I really should get going' response, his comeback was that tiredness should never prevent one from a bit of loving. I kid you not. LOVING?? This horny little midget actually thought he was getting action with Big Mama.

So I told him I would squash him like a bug in bed, and that the best offer he was going to get from me all evening was a good parking place.

Not surprising when I didn't hear from him again.

Keep tuned for the next episode…...