Steph Not Stephanie

As I mentioned, last week I met someone in real life. It did not go very well (or very far). For all of the drama of online dating, the Toronto club scene is not even remotely conducive to meeting people. Or at least not the kind of people I’m looking to meet.

Let me set the scene: after far too many drinks for a school night, IBM seemed not bad. He was drinking white wine, mentioned my tattoos in a non-creepy way (and had one himself). We talked tech a bit when I wasn’t grinding on my friend (and subsequently injuring my geriatric ass) and when he asked for my number, Drunk Steph obliged. My friends and I did not believe he was 31, as he claimed, so we carded him like the rational adults we are. Technically, I carded him, and then forced him to produce his ID again when they suggested he was a fetus. His eagerness to impress and his attempt to get a ‘goodbye kiss’ out of me should have raised a flag or two, but before any alarms could go off my friends were dragging me out the door to continue our shitshow.

He texted me immediately. It started off somewhat normally, but quickly went to a weird place — and not the kind of weird place I love. After I apologized for leaving abruptly, he told me he had wanted to take a picture with me before I left. Drunk Steph chose not to address that statement. I support her decision. There wasn’t much of note the rest of the evening, but allow me to present an editorialized (with poor grammar intact) highlight reel of the gems from the following day:

IBM: Okay cute one with the bow that I can’t see now … 🙂 I was just here wondering what’s your background?

Here’s the thing: this is not the first time I have been asked this, and oddly enough, not the first time from a guy I met in a bar. I find this question strange as a get-to-know-you technique, because I do not give a shit where our great grandparents came from. I humoured him and answered because I’m polite and shit.

IBM: Lol hmmmm nice for many reasons ,😀😀😀😀😀😀😊

I shit you not. I had to question whether the aforementioned ID was fake when I read that emojisplosion. I asked what those reasons would be, mentally preparing for the eyeroll to come. I did not prepare nearly enough.

IBM: Socially you girls are more relaxed and easy to talk to sexually well I’ll be a gentleman and leave that to your imagination .. 😎

At this point I was not anticipating ever meeting this bro, but I just couldn’t resist. It got better.

Me: “You girls” meaning who?

IBM: Girls that have a similar background as yours .

Me: Because it’s such a common combination. Czechoslovakia isn’t even a country anymore.

Then he said I was hilarious and asked what I do to relax. I responded in kind.

IBM: Hmmm honestly video games and the occasional street race. 😊

Um, what? Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe I’m too old and this is hip slang for something else. I asked him to clarify.

IBM: Yea you know sexy cars that go fast 😂

Bitch mode: activate.

Me: On the street, where people are trying not to get hit by said cars? Not my idea of sexy.

This lead to some protests and assurances that it only happens on ’empty high ways’ because he loves his freedom and his life. At this point I told him I didn’t think we had much in common, which he disagreed with.

IBM: Well we may just have to see. I mean it’s not that often I come agross a girl that has tatts looks cute and is in to wine and technology.

Wow, what a compelling argument, Prince Charming. He tried once more to convince me, but eventually resigned himself to finding some other tattooed wino with an iPhone. I wish her all the best. If you need me, I’ll be online, since that’s apparently now the less-crazy option.