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...