Just A Trace

As you can see, I have a whole new set of friends on my side bar.  One of those new friends is Tracey!  I've only been reading her blog for a week or so and I'm already in love with it.  I wish I'd found her sooner so I could have been following along all this time! Today, she'll be taking over my blog! Be sure to add her to your list of blogs to follow! You won't regret it!

Just as a side note! My $50 giveaway ends TOMORROW! Enter now before it's too late! Entries are low, so you're chances are good! 

My name is Tracey and I blog over at  Just a Trace. I'm here taking over Katie's blog today to share one of my awful first date tales. Before we get into the story, let me share a little bit about myself. I'm a lifestyle blogger located in Canada, and I write a lot about weddings, dating and my random daily encounters with all things weird. So whether you're looking for a DIY project, a healthy muffin recipe or you just want a good laugh, I hope you will stop by my corner of the internet and say hello. I'm a complete social media junkie, so you can also find me on Facebook, Twitter , Instagram and Pinterest.

Back when I was a single lady, I went on a lot of dates (you can read more of my hilarious dates on my blog). One of the most memorable ones was with a guy I deemed "Mouse Boy," you'll find out why I call him that later on in the post.  Mouse Boy and I had been talking online and decided to meet up for a date at the Starbucks within walking distance of my place. Mouse Boy seemed alright on paper - attractive, had a job, lived close by and had a car.

I get to the Starbucks and see a text from him saying that he is already there, has his drink and is sitting upstairs. It would have been nice if he had waited and ordered with me so he could pay. I order myself a tea and chalk it up to him not knowing good first date etiquette.

I go upstairs and see him right away. The Starbucks is in a old building so it's super cozy upstairs. There are lots of large wingback chairs and dim lighting. The place is packed. It's Thursday night and I guess a lot of people go there to study. I go to the back corner and he's sitting at a table with his coat still on. I introduce myself and he says, "Oh good. I'm glad you're here. I wanted to get that comfy chair to sit in but didn't want to lose the table." The chair he is referring to is wedged in a corner and to get it to our table he will have to ask another couple to get up so he can lift the chair over their table or ask them to shift their table out of the way. It seems like a lot of work for a chair. Since I just met him literally thirty seconds ago, I just keep this opinion to myself.

I watch as he struggles to try to lift the chair, then decides to just drag it across the floor. It makes this horribly loud scraping sound and everyone is looking at us, likely thinking, "Oh his poor girlfriend." I want to yell out, "He's not my boyfriend everyone. This is a first and last date in the making."

After an awkward start, we began talking. The conversation goes a little something like this:

Mouse Boy: "Where did you grow up?"

Me: "Hamilton."

Mouse Boy: "What a disgusting city."

Me: "Thanks."

Mouse Boy: "What do you do for a living?"

Me: "I'm a legal assistant."

Mouse Boy: "Do you need to go to school for that?"

Me: "Yes, you do."

Mouse Boy: "Oh, I totally thought that was the kind of job you could get certified for online."

It takes Mouse Boy only a few minutes, but he manages to quickly mock my birthplace and my occupation. I'm beginning to wonder if this is part of his strategy or if he is just a moron.

I decide to take the attention off myself and ask him questions about himself. This is when I discover this gem: Mouse Boy is writing a novel. The main character is a mouse. A mouse that lives in a mouse village, with a mouse mother and a mouse father and who is being terrorized by a cat villain.

Ok, so not only is this novel completely unoriginal, it's also incredibly lame. I keep waiting for him to say it's a joke but it isn't. I then become so enthralled with this awful novel I ask him a million questions about it. In my head all I am thinking is, you mocked me?! You spend all your free time basically recreating Stuart Little.

After about twenty minutes, I'm no longer amused and want to end the date. However, Mouse Boy has chosen to get a venti hot chocolate (how manly) and is sipping it. I down my green tea, end up scalding my mouth and say, "Shoot! I forgot I need to be home by 9:00 p.m. I promised my landlord I'd help him with something." Mouse Boy believes me and offers to walk me home. I politely decline as I would rather sit through a book reading of his awful sounding novel than have him know where I live.

He then goes in for a kiss. This is where I question men in general. On most dates, when I give no indication that the date has gone well, and some where I have even given indication the date has gone badly, men typically go for a kiss. In this instance, I did the whole "I thought you were trying to hug me" move and hug him instead.

I leave the date perplexed, but also defeated. I would get my hopes up each first date, only to have them come crashing down shortly after. I was able to chalk it up to better luck though. Each first date taught me something about myself and what I wanted in a partner. Each first date was a learning experience. Each first date that failed got me one step closer to my last first date. Not too long after this date with Mouse Boy, I went on my first date with my husband. All those awful first dates made me appreciate him even more. I remember when I was going through all these bad first dates, thinking I would never find the one. Well, I was just married in May and I can say it was even more special because it was day I had always wished for and I saw it come to fruition. 

You know, I can't but sometimes wonder what happened to Mouse Boy. Perhaps one day that novel will become a best seller and I will run into Mouse Boy drinking a venti hot chocolate in a wingback chair. Doubtful.