An accidental date with a Mormon.

I could never have seen this one coming. I was breaking all records for dates in a week – three in five days – but this guy sounded like the pick of this week’s crop. He was an IT geek  from the US (i.e. a good thing), was into music, German language, wanted a long-term relationship and a family.  As part of my new resolve was to avoid long first dates, I dodged his offer of a romantic dinner and suggested coffee at a funky local cafe five minutes drive from my house. He looked nothing like the profile picture (of course), had lied about his height (whatever shorty, I’m used to that by now), but I was pleasantly surprised that my concern over his “prefer not to say” body type was unfounded. 

We bonded over our experiences in the US, the culture of positive energy, sharing of knowledge, and innovation. As it happened, he was from Salt Lake City, Utah. I dialled up the bimbo and listed everything I didn’t know about Salt Lake: Utah Saints (um, in fact a band from the UK), some sporting team (oh this terrible), and er, Mormons.  It was as tragic as the stereotype of kangaroos hopping down  main roads in Australia, so I was expecting his laugh. “I’m a Mormon”, he said between giggles, and I started laughing even more. “Really? You’re kidding”.  Mormon: “Yes, I’m really a Mormon”.  The giggles had multiplied, now we were just laughing at each other laughing. Still in disbelief, I asked, “You’re not one of those door knocking, bicycle riding Mormon types are you?”  Mormon:  “Yes! In fact I worked as a missionary in Italy. Door knocking is a really inefficient way to spread God’s word though.”  No wonder he wanted to have more kids. Images of the HBO Series “Big Love” started floating through my mind, and I wondered where he stood on the multiple wives front.

Less than ten minutes into the date, and I could never see this guy again.  But he was a nice guy, and I’m not the type to walk out after ten minutes. Like it or not, I was having a coffee date with a Mormon. The “Book of Mormon” soundtrack began to play in Billykart Kitchen.

He spoke of how he had struggled with his beginner Italian, but when he was speaking about the Book to people, he received the gift of effortless, fluent Italian, which disappeared as soon as he turned away from the door. He was surprised by the number of people who invited him in for meals, showed him how to cook beautiful Italian dishes, but had no interest in keeping the Book of Mormon (aren’t Italians pretty content with Catholicism?). 

The Mormon was super super nice in a squeaky clean, teetotaller, caffeine-free, politically right leaning kinda way. I could have really sealed the deal by turning the conversation to gay marriage, maybe thrown in something around a woman’s right to choose, or some tales of drunken silliness to really turn him off, but there was no need. We were done. Instead, I heard about his choice to become a Mormon at the age of nine, his Dad’s failed attempts to entice him to drink a beer, the wonderful community in Brisbane (you know, that horribly glitzy Godbox at the top of Kangaroo Point Cliffs), how his great-grandfather was sent to the US by himself on a boat at the age of 10 during the war to start a new life, IBM and the Holocaust, what he missed about the US, and his kids.

I cried with laughter all the way home. My deal breaker list has two new additions: no orthodox / hardcore religious anythings, and no Mormons. For any Mormons reading, please man up and list this on your profile, or better still, maybe you’ll find a nice girl within the Mormon church?  I admit that I left thinking he was lovely for a Mormon, and was actually glad to change my views a little through sitting down with a real life person instead of a stereotype, but there’s no way Date no 2’s gonna happen.

I leave you with the the opening number from the Book of Mormon musical. Hello next date. Hello hello.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKkLV1zE8M0

This man is too rich to show his face.

Profession: Good thanks.

I’m looking for someone to have fun with and take on holidays overseas.
Someone who wants to be treated and spoilt like a queen.
Whatever they want they’ll get, money is not an issue.
I hate shopping so you can take my card as long as you parade it for me ;)
I love sailing on my yacht and fine wine and dining.

I am busy but have realised I want to spoil the woman of my dreams and see where it goes.

First Date
Well you have lots of choices with me…….anything from dinner, a walk on the beach,going away for the weekend to my resort or even going overseas for me to show you around my holiday ranch.

You’ll be given a bunch of your favourite flowers

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Wanted: Vegan metaphysical type with scorpio in your character

True story – but I don’t think I’m his girl.  And so the profile begins…

I am a vegan and hope to have a vegan partner. Diet is one way to purify yourself. Many years ago I had a dream that I was a metaphysics teacher. I am still trying to make that dream come true. I have interests in astrology, numerology, geometry, science, energy healing and ufology. I have an interest in dreams, night time and day time. My night time dreams can be a challenge to understand and I wish I could understand symbollic (sic) dreams better. I have an interest in purification partly due to a dream I had in 2005. In the dream I was walking around at night time looking at beautiful white houses decorated with gold. I currently like having a juice each day at the moment its acai with pineapple and banana. If your interested in astrology and know the planets in your natal chart then know that my venus is in scorpio, and if you have scorpio in your character I am interested to know more about you. One of my goals is to be able to gather scientific ideas and put them into a structure.

 

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vegan-

Two Richards: Including a man and his dog.

It’s funny how things tend to come in waves in this online dating business. After months of being contacted by guys who don’t want any kind of relationship, let alone kids (erm please refer to my profile), suddenly there were two who wanted to meet me, and made a point that they wanted the same things I did.

 One was an accountant type called Richard who wanted to chat first (read endless naff one-liners each day, along the lines of “thank God it’s Friday!”, “So, what are you into?” (Dude, go back and read my profile). The other owned his own video directing agency, lived on a boat, and had a fluffy-looking pooch who was also called Richard, which was very confusing. At one point I had to double check that I hadn’t accidentally called the Accountant the name of someone else’s dog, but nope. Both Richard. Phew.

 While Richard the Accountant was warming up to a real-life meeting (“So, what makes you laugh?”) the Boatman suggested fish and chips on the beach at Bribie, followed by flying his video drone thing over the seas to look at dugongs and turtles on his iPad. Full credit, it was a unique date suggestion for a gorgeous Brisbane not very wintery weather. And how often do you meet someone who lives on a boat?

So despite only arriving back in the country the day before, I battled with jetlag, infuriatingly slow Sunday drivers, and a 3 hour return trip to meet the Boatman. His instructions weren’t great, so I ended up dodging huge crowds at a Black Sorrows concert and waiting at the wrong jetty (“Oh, there’s ANOTHER small jetty just off the right from the bridge) but soon enough we were successfully installed on the beach with the surprise guest, Richard the dog.

 So despite only arriving back in the country the day before, I battled with jetlag, infuriatingly slow Sunday drivers, and a 3 hour return trip to meet the Boatman. His instructions weren’t great, so I ended up dodging huge crowds at a Black Sorrows concert and waiting at the wrong jetty (“Oh, there’s ANOTHER small jetty just off the right from the bridge) but soon enough we were successfully installed on the beach with the surprise guest, Richard the dog.

 It wasn’t a terrible date. It just wasn’t great, or even average. Mr Boatman had lived and worked on the aforementioned boat for ten years, and it kinda showed. Eye contact wasn’t his strongest suit. His creative sounding job actually wasn’t really, which removed our only common ground, and he couldn’t comprehend the notion of taking on artistic projects that are paid poorly. Welcome to the creative arts. Something told me he wasn’t going to be sympathetic to some important life choices, like the month I’d just spent presenting, performing, and attending conferences. Throw in some disparaging remarks about the environment and poverty in Africa, a nerdy expedition with a video drone thingy and no dugongs, and the deal was sealed.  I had a new rule. Never travel long distances for a first date.  The saddest thing was patting the gorgeous little Richard goodbye. And the other Richard? Radio silence as soon as I suggested doing the three dimensional thing. As my sister summed up, “these guys need a cracker up their clacker!” Very eloquently phrased. Too right. 

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