My Father’s Eyes

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On Saturday afternoon, I went on a belated Father’s Day date with my one and only, daddy. I took him on the subway for his first time in years. My dad’s an electrical engineer, so we can’t just ride the train – he needs to G.I. Joe* the heck out of the trip. I found out about the way the stations were built, the reason why certain brackets are used, the significance of every number used by the TTC and why it corresponds to what. *single blink* That’s my dad for you!

My Daddy & me

My Daddy & me

I don’t remember the last time I simply hung out with my father. Any time I see him, he’s here to fix something in my home but this was just a plain, old hangout with daddy. We went to Allen’s where I had a drink with him for the first time. I ordered him a meal I thought he’d enjoy. I paid for the meal and then we took a stroll along the Danforth.

Do you know the most significant moment of my Saturday with my father? We passed a bridal boutique where I absentmindedly commented on one of the dresses in the window. “That’s pretty,” I said and continued walking. My father, thinking it was just your average clothing store, replied, “Yes. VERY pretty if you’re getting married.”  I found myself chuckling and saying, “Well, that’s not happening anytime soon.” Almost to himself he said, “You really never know.”  I just looked at him; as the almost-32 year old I am,  as the little girl I always feel like when I’m around him. All the illogical reasons (still working hard on these, guys) I have for not being “desired” or “pursued” by eligible men diminished exponentially because this man beside me, thinks I’m the most beautiful person in the world. He doesn’t see my single status in the negative way my mind always creeps toward. He believes I’m single because no man has yet to be worthy of ME and it’s only a matter of time before someone wakes up and realizes I’ve been walking around this world.

I’ll take that sentiment…and I’m going to run with it.

*Knowing is half the battle.

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Get On The Bus

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No filler. No filter. This is what happened to me on Saturday night (technically Sunday morning).

I left work (which includes but not limited to: collecting cover at an LGBT-friendly dance party, looking fabulous, dancing until I sweat my makeup off, enviously watching men twerk) and caught the final streetcar to the Blue Night bus. The first bus was way too packed so I opted to wait for the next one. I saw a Tim Hortons across the street and I was starving, I thought grabbing a sandwich would be a delicious treat to indulge in once I was home.

A group of guys and girls were gathered around the stop I returned to and one of the guys was using his French-speaking skills to charm some ladies visiting from Quebec. Minding my own business by scrolling through my Twitter timeline to see what I’d missed, I notice a figure in my periph. When I looked up, a young gentleman was staring right at me, mid-chew of his pita. He asked me what I was thinking about because he felt like something was on my mind. I smirk a little and tell him nothing is on my mind but the sandwich in my hand and sitting down to eat it.

That answer was not good enough for him.

He tells me he’s an intuitive guy and I’m awesome, he can tell from my vibe. I say “thank you” and see the Blue Night bus approaching (it’s just as full as the one I let pass me by earlier). He follows my stare and asks if he could have my number. Though I was flattered, this was a child and I’m not about that life. I politely decline and jump on the bus as fast I could.

At this moment, I hear him saying to the driver he wasn’t taking the bus and he was starting a commotion. I’m not paying him any mind and found a space I could squeeze into for the long trip ahead. Out of nowhere, this same guy yells to the driver, “I just need her number!!!”

My eyes widen and  I look at the front and this dude is STILL there. When he catches my eye, he takes the opportunity to bellow to the back of the bus, “I just need your number, I’m a good guy!”  I yell back, “I’m sure you are but I’m not interested, thank you though.”

Apparently, that wasn’t good enough either. The bus still can’t move until he exits or pays to stay on.

Him: “Give me a good reason why you won’t give me your number!”

Me: “I’m just not interested.”

Bus remains unmoving. This exchange goes back and forth for more than 5 minutes.

This was me, essentially, for the full five minutes because I didn't want to be rude to the guy.

Me, basically, for the full five minutes because I didn’t want to be rude to the guy.

The late-night passengers are not having it and begin to yell at him to get off the bus and leave with dignity.

Him: “I’m 21 and I’m a good guy. WHY WON’T YOU GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER?!!!”

Me: Sigh. *single blink* “Because I’m 11 years older than you, baby boy. PLEASE be safe and have a good night.”

I wanted to add that in some countries, I could be his mother but that would’ve been uncalled for. An audible hush falls over the packed bus.

At this moment, the driver ushers the young man off the bus and finally drives away. I’m surrounded by three girls; one turns to me and says, “Everyone feels bad for you at this moment.”  While these ladies and/or people on the bus would be flush with embarrassment, I could only chuckle and shake my head because “BRAVO” to that kid.

The Silver Linings Playbook of this story is: while I have no interest dating someone that young at this stage of my life, he proved to me that males ARE capable of marathonesque and herculean-type effort to procure  a way to contact me. So to all the men (and women) out there, do what it takes regardless of the potential failure.

I promise you’ll regret not going after that something you want more than taking the plunge. I’ll have more on this “going after what you want” in an upcoming post. I’m currently in the midst of doing this myself. The rejection probability is through the roof and yet here I am, still doing it and letting the universe do what it’s gonna do.

What A Difference A Day Makes

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I did something last Friday I don’t normally do: I went out voluntarily. *single blink* VOLUNTARILY!  I know, I KNOW!

Inside the bar, I stuck to lonesome until a gentleman I didn’t know well joined me. I decided to clamp onto that moment and really go for it and engage in conversation, shed my nervous skin and really have a conversation with intent. And it worked!  When he left for the night, I didn’t stick around much longer. I made my rounds and said my “goodbyes” and decided to walk a bit before jumping on the bus.

Cut to 30 seconds into my walk.

I stop at a bench to rest my purse so I can find my bus pass and a man asks me if I know a good place to grab a drink. I resort back to my old aggressive and unapproachable ways and bark: “You are asking the WRONG person. This isn’t my scene. You can try that bar there.” I gesture violently toward the bar we’re beside.  He looked at me and nervously chuckled and rephrased his question: “I meant, I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink. With me.”

Sigh. Like…calm down, girl. That was the first time I even looked at his face. Cute smile, his top teeth were on a slant. I don’t know why I found that charming but…I did. His hair was salted with greys and I’d say he was in his mid-to-late 30s. Maybe 6′. I could tell he probably had a drink or two before this conversation but he was sincerely asking me for a drink. I apologize and told him I was heading home but he was welcome to walk with me to my stop. He tells me he’s new to the city, moved a few months ago from B.C. He works in film, building sets and doesn’t have many friends in town except for his dog.

We reach the intersection and he asks if he could call me some time. I haven’t been asked for my number in many moons and in the days where I was being asked, I didn’t give it out.  This time, due to my “Yes, and…” mentality, I gave it to him. We said our “goodnights” and parted ways. If he calls, cool. If he doesn’t, no regrets.

It’s a slow start to this brave new world of meeting real-life men in real life but I’m starting somewhere.  Let’s see what this week brings, shall we?

This will never be me again.

This will never be me again.