Category: Dates (page 7 of 10)

I want to publicly apologise for spreading misinformation. I wish I could say “Ich habe es nicht gewusst”. But I committed this vicious act of deception in a rare moment of clearheadedness.  I want to reiterate that you, my readers, are closer to my heart than my slim fit V-neck t-shirt to my nipples. You give me a sense of purpose in life. You’re the lemon to my tequila. You’re my everything. I know I didn’t visit a beer brewery with my accomplice. I know I instead participated in an online beer tasting. I know I broke your trust. Today is a black page in the history of 69 Dates. It will go in the books as the notorious “Beer brewerygate”. I’ll beer bear the burden of eternal shame, hoping for a glimpse of forgiveness and redemption. I’m terribly sorry for misleading you. But the beer tasting was not my idea though.

I could imagine myself living as a bobo. This would mean I’d spend my Saturday afternoon in a hand-made, design lounge chair reading my favourite lifestyle magazines. In an almost erotic way, I’d adjust my glasses, sip my whisky and smoke my cigar. Each time I’d lick my finger in not-so-sensual way before I turn the next page on my ethical and eco-friendly Fairtablet. Words like natural wines, mindful home brew, artisanal craft, slow travel, slow 100 metres sprinting, slow hand disinfecting bombard my eyes. I don’t believe the hype. But I notice that I sometimes only start to fancy someone after a longer period of time. Is this slow appreciation?

At first, I thought it’s simply because someone became more attractive such as acne that went MIA, cultivation of a sense of style, or the projection of confidence and joie de vivre. But the aesthetics of this beer-loving lady stayed more or less the same in my eyes. Slow appreciation probably also has to do with practical reasons: becoming single, appearing on my social media feed, a state of boldness, boredom, the constellation of the stars, a book that I read etc. There’s no consistency in when and why my taste changes. That’s fine. You don’t need to understand how a dish is cooked to appreciate how tasty it is. Just say it’s magic.

We had a very talkative beer master. He clearly knows his shit. All the information, facts and figures. It’s interesting but it doesn’t matter. In the end, all that matters is that you either like the beer, or not. The rest is just filling, bobo-talk. The experience might change with more logic and rationality but the visceral taste stays the same. It’s easy to confuse taste and experience. You don’t and shouldn’t like a beer more because you know it’s alcohol percentage or a certain hop is added. A pure appraisal of beer is difficult, let alone a potential mate. But the purer the taste, the better the experience.

I know you’re all dying to know which beer we liked the most. Well, it was Atrium Selva, a Belgian double IPA with guarana. 8,9%, bitter but sweet.

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I raise my glass to no one in particular. I celebrate my existence with gin and tonic for no reason. I’m happy because today is, well, just today. It’s weird to say for a wannabe overachiever. Shouldn’t there always be a clear goal and purpose in mind? Thus making the most efficient and effective use of my time and energy. 

Blame it on age, or maybe circumstances. Irrational nuance with a philosophical touch overtake the wild flames of maximum productivity. The black becomes less black and the white less white. Like Michael Jackson and sneakers during a night out. Fifty shades.

I know, she knows, we both know that whatever happens, ultimately, our journey leads to nowhere. We talked for weeks about everything and nothing. Essentially meaningless banter and wit. But we shared just enough whereabouts and practicalities to create a mutual understanding. A silent agreement on our non-existing future together included.

It’s sad and beautiful at the same time. But most of all, it’s liberating, for me at least. There’s nothing to hold back, there’s nothing to lose. Anything can happen, anything is fine. Thoughts and statements flow freely in a serenade of love and romance, for the sake of love and romance. An uninterrupted chains of words from the selfish heart, bypassing the empathetic brain. Pure improvisation from the amateuristic artist. The calculated scientist losing grip of the metre and rhyme scheme of the limerick. Who still writes that kind of poem these days anyway… 

I have never been a jealous or needy type. But that maybe stems from a psychological trench position whereas this kind of freedom comes from a place of abundance, real abundance. There’s me in the moment, with no need to control, impress or force anything. It doesn’t matter if expectations, if any, are met. There’s this date and there’s tomorrow.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

I know you’re all dying to know which ice cream flavours we tasted. Well, there was a female with vanilla and chocolate, and a handsome man with banana and chocolate.

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I have to admit. I’m old-fashioned. I’m old skool. I’m a traditional guy, you know. The type that will never use cliché quotes. But desperate times call for desperate measures. If you can’t change your circumstances, change your perspective. Never waste a good crisis. So yeah, new decade, new year, new me => new start, new experiences. All in the name of love, a virtual date.

I think I’ve never video chatted with a girl prior to going on a date with her. I’m pretty sure I’ve never had an online date before. Until recently, I actually rarely used video to communicate. I believe in the power of the written word (and the power of choosing when to respond). But I never stop learning because life never stops teaching. Growth and comfort don’t coexist. Nothing ever becomes real until it’s experienced. You do become quickly used to the whole video call thing. First, you act like someone with social anxiety disorder. Seconds later, you captivate the audience like an influential vlogger.

I actually enjoyed this online date. A positive experience. Just getting to know each other better while being able to observe. No distractions. There’s little to hide, except maybe my Justin Bieber poster against the wall, and nowhere to go. The moment is real but also limited. I’d not call it boring. It’s more that the shared reality and adventure is not as strong as if it would be in real life.

Some people are skilled in texting, others are talented in making beautiful pictures. Nothing against putting yourself in a good light but that sometimes creates wrong expectations, especially if you can’t live up to them in real life. It’s like going to a live concert of your favourite band but finding out that the Spotify playlist will be played. You feel tricked. A little video session never killed nobody.

But I also think that the magic of going on a first date is precisely the unknown. The thrill and the emotional rollercoaster is in the finding out. A first date almost always tops the subsequent ones in terms of aliveness. There’s more tension, surprise and curiosity. Do we want to take all this away?

I know you’re all dying to know how long we were on the line. Well, 1 hour and 49 minutes, after which my battery died.

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There are certainties in life. One is that when a girl says that she loves food and can eat a lot, she’ll at some point in time disappoint me with how little she can actually eat (btw, the all you can eat date is still available). Another one is that I’ll ask the girl the question during our date. No, I’m not asking her bra size, her amount of bed partners or if she prefers to say “rock-paper-scissors” or “scissors-rock-paper” (the latter is completely ridiculous and should be banned). No, I’ll just ask her what she thinks of my blog.

Usually, I’ll get “ooh, it’s nice”. Okay then, gurl. I spent my free time putting my heart and soul on the internet for everyone to read and it’s just nice? Go tell the Chinese the Great Wall is “nice”, tell the Egyptians the pyramids are “nice”, tell the Incas Machu Picchu is “nice”. Go tell them for god’s sake. But don’t leave my thirst for feedback and judgment unquenched, chiquita. Okay, okay, they actually say more than “ooh, it’s nice”. The high standard of the women I date are reflected in their verbal prowess and verbose sentiments, uhu. You know, quality attracts quality. That’s how my life goes. People want to be on a good show. But it’s funny how the responses are more or less the same.

Usually I’m attracted to mentally stable women. Maybe it’s time to switch things up and fish in the erratic pond of drama, breakdowns and extremes. Trigger me, baby. Out of curiosity, I checked if there’s a dating market for mental illnesses and disabilities. Yes, there is. Luckily, I can imagine it’s tough for these people.

Now and then, I interview students for an internship position in our team at work. Same story, often the same responses. Is it because we’re in a similar situation or because we’re the same type of people or maybe something else? I’m not sure. But not too fast, only the surface level is similar. Yes, the girl on this date said my blog was nice but when I dug deeper and asked follow-up questions, I could get a sense of what she really meant with nice. The luxury of drinking hot tea in a cosy bar after a chilly bargain hunt did not only come with a cookie. She spoon-fed me with her observations.

Btw, it’s never my intention to pick someone’s brain during a date to know or to get something. The experience is as good as it is.

I know you’re all dying to know what hidden gems we spotted on the Place du Jeu de Balle flea market (Brussels). Well, I only found out that you could literally get everything there. She on the other hand added two pieces to her closet.

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I got set up again. No, I was not a target of an organised operation. Instead a mutual friend facilitated the date. I can assume that before we met, she already knew a couple of things about me, just like I learnt some facts and figures (bra size, IQ and the amount of tequila shots before she passes out) about her before the date. Later I found out she purposely did not read my writings. I heard this one before. Multiple dates have said this to me.

Team Abstinence prefers to come to the date empty-minded. They want a clean slate, ready to be enriched with thoughts, impressions and knowledge from the date. They also tell me that they favor exploring in the magic of the moment over building further on a preconceived image. You could argue that they are more romantic, idealistic about the dating process. Team Detective is less occupied about the underlying spirit of dating. They are just curious. I can image that they would also type my name in Google or social media to see what comes out, but to say that they would analyse all this information to come to a deeper understanding of my mythical persona, that’s too far.

I don’t really have a preference for one of the two approaches. But I’m probably in Team Abstinence because I live a life of sobriety, balance and restraint. That’s why they call me “M3”. No, it does not mean “Money-Making Machine” but “Modern Moderation Monk(ey)”. Team Abstinence also because I experienced way too many cancellations so I tend to limit my investment of time and energy before dates.

I think doing some research beforehand can be beneficial. You can find things in common and hooking points for conversation. Of course, saying things like “Out of the 69 photos you posted this year, 69% were with Winnie the Poodle. You must love your dog. I love the picture you posted on the 14th of September. Here let me show you, I have it in my personal file about you.” can maybe potentially come across as a tiny bit overeager, just a bit. You can also figure out if he/she is full of shit or not, or if you want to gauge his/her reaction. When you spot multiple drunk pictures, ask him/her if he/she likes to get drunk or not. Wait, see, and learn.

I know you’re all dying to know what delicious food we devoured. Well, we had a real tasty burger. Bun, beyond the ordinary, patty on point and sauce, savory as it should be. Btw, did I mention the weather? It was raining unlimited fries.

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