First Dates
In the 11 ½ years I have lived in Vancouver, I have gone on one billion first dates. From tall dark roasts to double-gin sodas, I have RSVP’d to countless gentlemen callers in the hopes of meeting of someone. At this point I feel like I could write an advice column on dating gay men, or a Drew Barrymore film.
When I first moved from the prairies, I remember thinking the West Coast provided the perfect backdrop for romance. At 23-years-old, I saw nothing but potential. As soon as I found him, my partner and I would hold hands watching the sunset over English Bay. We would stay up all night dancing on Davie Street and make out in the pouring rain. I had flown WestJet with a one-way ticket to the end of the rainbow, and I was here for it.
You can understand my shock and horror then, when, I picked up a local magazine on Robson Street and read the headline: Vancouver Rated Most Loveless City in Canada. Wailing, I flipped furiously to the feature article. No, no, no, no, no! Reading each devastating word, I thought, this cannot be possible. I did not just uproot my entire life in search of love only to move to the one city in Canada where it was not to be found.
Tossing the magazine in the recycling bin, I stopped in front of Starbucks, placed my Le Chateau bag down, and proclaimed, “GOSH DARNIT! EVEN IF IT TAKES MY WHOLE LIFE, I WILL FIND LOVE IN THIS GORGEOUS CITY!” Well, had I known then, how bloody hard the search would be, I probably would have moved back to Winnipeg.
Goodness gracious, when I look back now on all the first dates I have ventured on, I cannot help but smile, and then shake my head in disbelief. Some have been great, others not so much. I have dated everybody’s gay best friend in the lower mainland. So that resource is tapped. I have discussed arranged marriage over coffee with a lovely South Asian man I had only known for five minutes. As if blind dates aren’t nerving enough, I decided “heck, why not have one televised.”
In the recent years pre-Pandemic, I must admit my search was beginning to lose momentum. After a series of disastrous dates, I threw in the towel. Exhausted by dressing up and making small talk, I performed the exact opposite. I took off my clothes and hosted a revolving door of gentleman callers. “Shhhh, don’t speak.” It’s remarkable how close you can get to another human being while still feeling so far away.
I imagine I would still be stuck in that never-ending dance had the events of the last few years not taken place. Spending oodles of time at home alone, it did not take long for me to discover that I didn’t have the greatest relationship with myself. Ripping box after box open to drain out the last dregs of wine, I realized, one night, something had to give. So, I started seeing a counselor. I knew I had to do the work. This was one time I could not just lie down on my back and expect good things to happen.
“It’s remarkable how close you can get to another human being while still feeling so far away.”
Fast forward three seasons, and you will find me seated on the patio at Cardero’s, a marina side restaurant and lounge in Coal Harbour. It is happy hour on a beautiful day in September. Outstretched before me lies one of the most gorgeous views. The silhouette of the mountains contours a line across the blue sky. Soaring high above the treetops in Stanley Park, float planes land and take off. The water is still. It is the perfect backdrop.
I look down at my watch. It is nearly four o’clock, the time I am scheduled to begin my first vaccinated date. I feel a light tap on my shoulder and turn around to see him. In a split second, I am taken back to every first moment of every first date I have ever been on. The excitement. The tension. The firm handshake, awkward hug, and motion to “have a seat.” The fevered anticipation that he might be the one, and the underlying fear that he might not. It is at that minute I realize that something is different this time around. And that something, or someone, is me.
“Hi Theodore,” I stand up. “I’m Rugged. It is very nice to finally meet you.”
