Story Time!

A blog I follow asked for bad date stories and after going through my archives, I realised I haven’t posted a story I pull out whenever I want to give new friends a laugh (and make them thank God they are not single). So, here is the story of Car Guy, which happened fairly early on in my online-dating experiences.

I had been chatting to Car Guy [obviously not his name, but go with me here] for a few days when we agreed to meet. We’d been chatting pretty much every day and conversation flowed easily. He decided to take me to a comedy club in the city, meeting for coffee first.

I dressed up, looking forward to the night, and got there a few minutes early, sitting outside the designated coffee shop. As he walked past, he looked at me, paused, and said in questioning greeting, “Amy?”

“Car Guy! Hi!” I stood, we pecked cheeks, and he joined me at my table.

After a bit of initial conversation, he asked, “One of the guys at the club tonight is on Triple J. Do you listen to Triple J much?”

“Not really,” I replied. “I usually only listen to radio in the car, and my last car didn’t have a working radio. I actually just upgraded on Tuesday!” We had already discussed my new (second-hand) car in an online conversation.

“That’s right,” he said. “I remember you saying you were doing that this week. What kind of car did you get?”

I told him, and he asked more questions. O.K., so he wanted to talk cars. I could do that.

It went downhill from the moment he asked, “What was the first car you ever had?”

Well! My first car was quite a few years ago, before the non-radio car, and as I’ve never been one to know makes and models off the top of my head, I had to think about it for a second.

“Uhh…” I said as I thought. I was about to say, “I can’t remember,” when it came to me, and I told him. “It was an ’81 model, I think,” I added. “Something fairly old.”

I will never forget what he did next.

He leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms and legs. A blind person would have been able to pick up on his body language, and I was instantly suspicious about what he might say.

He said, “I think you are lying.”

Yep, that was my response, too: “What?!”

“I don’t think you are telling me the truth.”

“What?” It was all I could say. My brain was frozen. It had hit a brick wall and was working furiously, mentally replaying the conversation and cycling through all the possibilities of what was going on. Was it a joke? Candid camera? Was he giving me some sort of bizarre humour test? Did I inadvertently give off ‘lying’ signals?… I was coming up blank on all counts.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” he continued.

Pause. Split-second thinking. The brick wall wasn’t budging.

“O.K.,” I replied airily. A bit in shock, but in control enough to decide not to waste my time on the loser, I picked up my bag and walked off, not looking back.

I got around the corner before the nerves collapsed in the shape of salty tears – I’ll say it was the after-effects of shock 😛 . I messaged a friend, who thankfully was home, and after a few hours, wine, a cup of tea, and some chocolate, I was able to laugh it off.

I still see him online (using the same photo) every now and then. I chuckle every time.

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