Online date: Mr. Coffee Club.
After the Serious Spaniard, I was beginning to despair of the Dating Agency’s catalogue of men. The rockstar Tawainese salesman who spent his weekends catching fish with his bare hands and the German electrician who absolutely adored musicals drove me to set up an eharmony account, and even pay for a year’s subscription. God. Tough times.
One rule I have is to not date engineers. They’re a particular breed, and it’s a bit too much like dating my Dad. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad, but you know what I’m saying.
So an engineer asks me out. I scold myself for being so close-minded and ruling out an entire sector of the male population (and there are a LOT of males in the engineering world), and pretended to myself I’m fine with dating engineers.
So 7:30pm at the Coffee Club, Paddington was his suggestion.
Trying to be feminine and not taking over organising the date (ie planning something cool!) I hinted at maybe trying out one of the many funky bars or cafes around Paddington, but Mr. Engineer really was keen for the Coffee Club.
The next dilemma was – what does 7:30 mean? Is it dinner? It’s kinda late for dinner (which wasn’t mentioned), but kinda early for post-dinner coffee and dessert, or drink…what to do? Being someone who needs to eat every few minutes, I went for “snack in case it’s not dinner, but could still easily eat again if I had to”. That meant sushi, accompanied by mild paranoia that some post-sushi fishy soy saucy breath might waft his way.
For Mr. Engineer, 7:30 was definitely post-dinner. We ordered a cup of tea each, sat outside in the freezing cold (well, admittedly a Brisbane winter, so some kind of long-sleeved garment required), with the only other patrons being a group of mothers who were simultaneously breastfeeding their infants. Hardly romantic.
It turned out that he was a farm boy (just like my Dad) and gave me a great run down on structures, coloumns, and foundations. All I could think of was how much Dad would have loved him –they were scarily similar. I remembered my rule about not dating engineers.
It also turned out during the course of the cup of tea that Mr. Engineer lived directly across the road from the Coffee Club. What did this mean? Did he expect to lure me into his den after a cup of tea? Was he terribly lazy? Did he have no imagination? Or just hasn’t noticed how much goes on in Paddington apart from the Coffee Club? If this was his idea of a romantic date, what was going to happen after 1 year? After 5 years? There would be no more walking across the road, that’s for sure.
There’s only so long one can spin out a cup of tea, and the wait staff had had enough of waiting around in the cold. Mr Engineer assured me multiple times that he would pay for the bill (all $7.50 of it), and it seemed pretty mutual that there were no sparks. Which is fine. I was in the clear, and happily escaped.
Six days later, I receive an email out of nowhere from Mr. Engineer telling me how much he had enjoyed the date and asked if he could see me again. Was he even there? Isn’t it strange that two people can have such different experiences of the same event…..
Since that date, two more men have suggested the Coffee Club as a first date location. Attention men of Brisbane! Call me shallow, but there are so many great places around. Even if you don’t know much about me, a little bit of thought and creativity into choosing where to go out goes a long way with me