On Cops and Rubbers

I don't even know where to begin here really.

Maybe this should start with a confession. I live in Vancouver. It is exceedingly hard to meet people in this city...especailly difficult to meet STRAIGHT guys who are somewhat normal, somewhat close to my age and who do not come with a ex wife and kids. So I have joined an online dating service. *gasp* I know I know...I never thought I would either...but none the less...there I am. www.lavalife.com
You too can join! Hundreds of people are just DYING to meet you!!!!!

My photo is posted in a tiny box and I am forced to describe myself and what I am looking for in 1000 words. HA! Like I can be defined so easily! People please. Still...I made a valient effor and have been on several dates. Some were good, some were amusing some were awful and then...and then there is Chris the Rent-A Cop.

I initally beleived Chris to be an actual VPD dude. A "Real-Live-Dead-Crunchy-Frog-Leg" Cop. But alas no, he is a security guard and bouncer for a few nightclubs and events that are around Vancouver. Ok...a Rent-A-Cop - no big deal.

How the system works on this online dating thingy...is that you browse litterally HUNDREDS of adds. You see photos, you read profiles and you make contact with those that you think would be nifty to know.

I go through all of this with Chris the R-A-C. We exchange a few emails. We MSN. We even talk on the phone. He is a normal dude with some bizzare sleep habits, but other than that...normal...right??

Ummm...yeah...not so much.

I meet Chris at Benny's Bagels in Kits. http://www.wguides.com/city/73/121_297658.cfm
For those of you who, like me, adore a REAL hot chocolate...this is the best place to have one of those in Vancouver. The staff are friendly and funky and I'm not ashamed to admit they know me there and exactly how I like my hot coco!.

I arrive 10 minutes early for our date but there he is...sitting wating for me stuffing his face with a very large lemon cake thingy. Wow. He does NOT look ANYTHING like his photos. Upon closer inspection...I of course conceed that though he's put on about 40lbs, it is indeed him and he still has a great smile and lovely blue eyes. Ok...not a big deal. I struggle with my weight too...I think I put on 10lbs since my photo on here has been taken.

Anyway...the date begins. He is a gentleman...helps me with my coat and won't sit down until I am seated. I assure him that it's ok to sit and I go up and get my hot chocolate. Dan is working and we exchange some hellos, hugs and kisses. I have a secret crush on Dan...but he's soooo sooo young. 19 yrs old to my 29. I feel dirty thinking about him...and I like it at the same time. teehee.

Ahem..back to Chris. We sit and talk and then...then it all comes out.

Chris is on meds. Not just any sort of meds...heavy fucking duty tranquilizer shit. He rattles of names of percriptions he's currently on and I hear this in my head AWOOOGA AWOOOGA EJECT EJECT EJECT.


*Side note* my Mum is a psychiatric nurse at the emergency ward at VGH. I have heard COUNTLESS stories about wigged out people and the drugs they use to calm them down...the ones he's on I've heard too many times to ignore.

We talk and I am decidedly a bit phreaked out. He is sizing me up. I'm wondering if I can kick his ass if I need to. The answer a decided and disappointed NO. The guy is huge! 6ft, easy 250-260lbs. My 5ft 11 185lbs is NOT going to work here. I just have to run faster scared than he can psycho.

I never thought I would admit this...but I miss Jean Claude van Damme's advice at the gym now. I wish I had taken the training with him. Oh van Dammage...if only you would show up now I was frantically thinking.

*Side note* I would not call JCVD and I "friends" exactly...rather we are aquaintences at the gym and he often corrects my technique and is a pretty friendly guy at the gym. I secretly wish I could kick his ass though...only so I could say I did. Though I think his girlfriend could easily take me out too.

We finish our drinks and move on to the entertainment part of our evening. Merenge Lessons at Mesa Luna http://www.mesaluna.com/main.htm I had never been there before and I must say I was compltely impressed. I am definitely going back there once I establish that Chris has been safely secured in his Rubber Room. (see..and you were worrried that the title of this post wouldn't make sense...Rubber ROOM....not condoms)

Chris galantly pays for our dance lessons. Hurray. $10.00 if you just show up for the lesson...$5.00 if you had dinner there. We go to the bar and have a beer. Chris drinks Kokane...that is camping beer...not a beer you have when you are on a date. I drink Bavaria...this is so I can get into the Latin feel of the evening though I do think of Bavaria as more of a summer beer. (in case you haven' t noticed yet...I"m a beer snob...go good or go home!).

Chris explains a bit more about himself. He's recently had a complete mental and physical breakdown. He loves the choas and disfunction that is security work. He's been criminally investigated on no less than FIVE ocasions. His last relationship was 8 years ago and it ended because they constantly argued. She kept threatening to put a restraining order in effect against him.

Here is where I share that I have a bit of a sorrid past myself. I was young and stupid and travelling in Australia making extra cash as a rave organizer. I have yet to be investigated...criminally or otherwise.

*ahem*. As his Usher like confessions pour forth I no longer hear the catchy latin beats but rather "DANGER DANGER WILL ROBINSON" keeps echoing in my head.

The dance lessons begin. I am tempted to have a Stanley Tutchi moment...but I am polite and carry on...I do after all, love to dance!

So we dance. Chris is very strong and no matter how many times I ask him to ease up his death vice grip on my hands...he continues to clutch at me like I might bolt away at any moment. Was he reading my body language that well??

Finally...as the lessons progress...Chris actually relaxes. I begin to think that this may be OK after all. Clearly he is not the guy for me, but I can salvage this date and have some fun.

After the lessons Chris excuses himself to the bathroom and I stand at the edge of the dance floor taking everything in. The place has now morphed into "night club mode". I was approached by a very attractive guy who started making small talk with me and asked me to save a dance or two for him. Before I could answer in any way, Chris returns and barks out "No. We're leaving."

And so we do. We head to True Confections in Kits for some dessert. I had mentioned to Chris while we were making plans for our date, that I am not much of a dessert person. Cakes, pies, cookies....not super interested in them. Ice cream is my weakness but that's a summer thing and now it's autumn and well...yeah...he insists we go to True Confections anyway.

Ok...no big deal. I order my fruity tea and some sort of pumpkin cheese cake...it is afterall Thanksgiving weekend and I wasn't going to be attending any sort of feast at all and would be missing out on the pumpkin pie this year. Chris orders some uber chocolate cheese cake and devours this in FIVE bites. Woah. Slow down there buddy. Don't rush....enjoy your food. I eat my cheesecake with my tiny tea spoon and it takes me 20 minutes to eat half of it. It is soooo rich I can not finish it. Chris finishes the remaining bits in 2 bites.

I can not help but think that they way a person eats says a lot about them as a lover. I love to take my time. It's not just about food...it's about enjoying the flavours, having an experience. Chris on the other hand is all about the instant gratification and clearly puts a lot of garbage into his body.

We chat some more. Chris is now scaring me with countless storis of violence and disfunction and he's grinning from ear to ear while telling me. I'm a pacifist. I'm a greenie. I don't drive...I walk. I think more people should take transit. I think more people should smile. Chris has a permanent frown going on. He once more regails me with the story of his physical and mental breakdown and talks about what it's like to be on these meds.

I am PHREAKING OUT!. Our waiter takes the opportunity to come over and find out if I am OK while Chris has ducked into the loo. (note....one of the meds he's on has a side effect of being a laxitive....oh joy.)

*sigh* I chaulk this one up as needing to have a better "filter" as it were for my dates off of lavalife.

Chris insists on driving me home. Here is where I get a bit creative. I used to live in what I called "the Craque House" at Davie & Bute. (For those of you that don't know the area it really is Ground Zero for crystal meth. And to be clear...when I initially moved to that neighbourhood...it wasn't *that* bad. But when the dealers moved into my building...I moved out.) Anyway...I get Chris to drop me off at my OLD place. This is a bit bizzare...I just didn't want him to know where I lived. He mentioned needing to know so he could come and serenade me. Yeah....He said "serenade you" but I interpruted it as "stalk you".

Chris informs me that he is giong to wait in the car and make sure I get in all right. The best part of this entire scheme is that the door is behind a corner and not visible from the street. I round the corner and hop behind some bushes and wait until his car has gone. I then gingerly make my way home staying in shadows and feeling very 007.

20 minutes later I am home and going through the evening abulations. It's 12:30AM. My phone rings. It's Chris. He wanted to thank me for a wonderful date. Wants to see me again.

I can already feel my neck elongate and the feathers growing out from my shoulder blades. The sand is warm between by talons....Hello Ostrich!