October 2015. We met on Tinder. He was cute. Almost immediately after we “swiped” each other, he reached out first. Shortly after, he started phoning me.
Call me old school, call me traditional, I don’t give a fuck, I like a phone call.
I learned that he was my age, owned a condo in Scarborough, worked the nightshift at CTV, never been married, no kids and had been single for a while. The most exciting thing I learned so far was that he loved Christmas. That was huge because I fucking love Christmas!
The tone in his voice always seemed positive and friendly. It was nice.
The day after Kol’s Halloween party and the Wedding Emcee debacle, we made plans for me to go to his place and we would order pizza and watch movies all afternoon. It was the perfect situation because I was fucking hungover.
I was nervous driving to his place (as per usual). His condo was in a nice spot just off of Warden Ave. and it was a newer building. I got there around 2pm.
When I got to the front door, instead of buzzing me in, he came down to open the door for me. That’s where it all went downhill.
He was wearing the baggiest pair of jeans; like the kind that I hadn’t seen since I was in high school where his dick barely kept them up. They were dragging on the floor and were all tattered at the bottom. He was wearing a baseball cap to the side, not fully resting on his head. What in the fuck did I get myself into?
None of his photos reflected his ultra-chic 90’s gangster rap wannabe style.
Then he fucking spoke. His vocabulary and way of speaking matched his 1994 look.
Then there were his crooked-ass teeth. They were a mess. Now I know why he never smiled with his teeth in his photos.
I couldn’t believe it, he was a “Wigger”.
I couldn’t help but laugh in my head. I thought they were extinct. This was a rare encounter. For those of you born in 1990 or later, the definition of wigger is provided below.
Red Flag #1 – He was a fucking wigger!
I thought to myself, is this the same guy that I had been talking to for the last couple of weeks? Was this a goddamn imposter? He didn’t speak this way on the phone.
We went up to his condo and he gave me the grand tour. The common areas were clean and tidy. He already had his Christmas tree up and decorated. It was beautiful.
Then he showed me his bedroom. It wasn’t super gross, but it wasn’t inviting or cozy. He had psychedelic posters and drug paraphernalia everywhere. The posters made me nauseous. His bed looked like it had been through a lot. Ugh.
He wanted to go to the liquor store before we started watching movies. We jumped in his rental (he didn’t own a car) and headed to the store.
The plaza that had the LCBO also had a Canadian Tire. He wanted to check out their Christmas stuff out so I was absolutely down. As he looked for parking, he made a terrible comment about how he should just park in the “spot for retards”. I told him that he was a fucking ignorant asshole and his comment was inappropriate and fucking offside. His apology was accompanied by a giggle.
Red Flag #2 – His sheer utter ignorance.
Fuck this guy. Obviously, I stuck around.
Once he finally parked, I just prayed in my head that I would get through this day. I shook off the asshole comment knowing full well that I was never going to see him again as we walked into Canadian Tire.
The seasonal section calmed me down. I was in my happy place; all of the Christmas décor was a welcome distraction. He bought more lights for his tree and then we headed to the LCBO for some beer.
Now, with the first impression that this motherfucker has already made, you would think I was smart and listened to my gut, jumped in my car and never looked back. Why would I ever do something that smart? Of course, I fucking stayed to see how the rest of the afternoon was going to unfold.
When we got upstairs to his place, we cracked open a couple of beers and decided to watch Christmas movies. He already had his tree up and we just came back from buying Christmas decorations, so naturally, it made sense.
He put on The Grinch (with Jim Carey), Home Alone and Christmas Vacation. He would recite lines during the movie, which I fucking hate, so I asked him to stop. It took a few times to stick, but eventually, he stopped.
We chatted throughout the movies, which was fine. He was nice and had the ability to speak like a regular human being but his gangster vocab reeled its ugly head from time to time. I just tried to ignore it.
Red Flag #3 – He did not speak like an adult.
I knew this wasn’t going anywhere.
He tried snuggling with me. I wouldn’t let him. He sat on one end and I sat on the other. I extended my legs and rested my feet on his lap.
After the first movie we ordered pizza. That’s when he kissed me.
I was bending down getting beers from the fridge and there he was standing there when I closed the fridge door. I tried to avoid eye contact and walk past him but he was quick. He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me in. I focused on keeping my tongue in my mouth because had it grazed his broke-ass teeth, I would’ve gagged. His lips were thin. His kiss was shit. It was over in two seconds.
He was scheduled to work that night but decided to call in sick. I told him that I wasn’t staying over and I was leaving after the last movie. He wasn’t impressed but I didn’t give a shit.
During the last movie, he mentioned that a friend of his was coming by to pick up his wallet that was left there the night before. I went into the washroom and as I sat there peeing, I heard a knock on the door. All of a sudden, I all I fucking heard was the Wigger yell, “come on in nigga!!!”
Red Flag #4 – Please see the quote above.
No words.
I had no words.
I didn’t even like typing the word out.
As I sat on the toilet, I looked around for a window to crawl out of. I sent Miss D a text with what just happened. I was appalled and also very entertained. Who was going to be on the other side of that door when I came out? I was hoping that a dark skinned person was the visitor. Not that it makes his comment right, but at least it would make some sense.
I washed my hands and opened the washroom door.
There he was a Caucasian male on crutches staring back at me. Run away I said to myself, but no, I wanted more pizza and to finish watching Christmas Vacation. Idiot.
We weren’t introduced and his little gimpy friend didn’t stay.
As soon as the movie was finished, I made my exit. He asked me to stay since he had called in sick. I refused. It was well overdue for me to get the fuck out of there.
He walked me to my car and kissed me again. Yuck.
He messaged me a few times afterwards and I answered the first couple of messages, but I ultimately ghosted his ass.
Duration: 1 Date. If you even want to call it that.
Quick useless fact – I found him on Facebook. He currently has braces.
Lesson(s) Learned:
- Pay fucking attention to the red flags. I literally would say the word “Red flag” in my mind every time one went up. Oh, but give him a chance I convinced myself. Things could get better, I manipulated myself into believing. Fuck me.
- I need to listen to my fucking gut. I didn’t have a good feeling about him the second I saw him and things just got worse. Run girl, as soon as that feeling strikes you. Fucking run.
- Not everyone deserves a chance. I stuck around as if by some fucking Christmas miracle there would be a chance that he was worth a millisecond of my time. Hard no.
- Know your worth and stop giving losers, who you are obviously too good for, an ounce of effort. Period.
- Avoid “ghosting”. It was a horrible feeling when it happened to me, so why was it OK for me to do it to someone else? I should’ve just been straight up and told him I wasn’t interested.
New Term(s) – specific to those born after 1990:
wig·ger – /ˈwiɡər/ – noun
INFORMAL•OFFENSIVE – A white person who tries to emulate or acquire cultural behavior and tastes attributed to African Americans.
“Fuck this guy” LMAO! NO SHIT!