Stunning Potential: Dating a New “Something”


[dropcap]T[/dropcap]o be completely honest it had been a long slow summer in Vancouver.  I hadn’t gone on a date since The Nick Name way back at Christmas, but at least during the winter months I’d had school to be my scapegoat keep me occupied.  And yes, I’d certainly wasted a ton of time catching the Bird Seed of The Nick Name, Hot And Dumb and HAZmazing but I hadn’t gone an actual date in months.  A fucking ridiculous amount of months.

I had all but given up.  In fact, I had; I was bitter, I was jaded.  But more than this, I was sad.  I had gotten to a place where boys were no longer the icing on my sex cake.  There was no sugar in my cotton candy drum to spin into sweet sticky happiness.  Boys were blowing it left and right BOOM!.  Or maybe I was, but either way we were all getting blown up and nobody was getting blown.

Now this isn’t to say I wasn’t getting any messages on Plenty of fish because I was, but it was a marching band of degenerates (and not in the sexual awesome kind of way).  A parade of pariahs.  A herd of hidiots.  Does that work?  I think you get the idea.  So, you can imagine that with every new message what was left of my tiny shreds of hope was exhaled.  Though there was one that perked a brow, if you will.


The subject read:  Stunning Face.


Hold up.  Is this a thing we’re doing now?  Stunning.  Is this a thing that boys are being told to say.  Like mothers the globe over are all Say stunning sweetheart, girls love to hear that.  Because though, as my friend would say, Facts Are Facts, I find it bizarre that this particular compliment is used on me so often.  Almost more than Hot Tits even…and we all know I hear that one on the regular from the online boys.  But I digress.


So there it was.  A good start message.  I opened it and it was filled with normal, sane, logical commentary.  There was a bit about him noticing my positive attitude and smile and blah blah blah good stuff.  I checked out his profile.



[colored_box color=”blue”]

Username:  Logical and normal without lacking all creativity

Age:  33

Height:  6’1

Profession:  Hospitality




And then I looked at his picture.  And I mean his “something” name just fucking wrote itself:  The Vampire.  Allow me to explain.  See, the thing is, I know I’m all a grown up and shit but the truth is sometimes those Vampire shows just suck you in (see what I did there?)  Now Twilight, is not for me, those movies are just fucking ridiculous.  But Trueblood?  I mean that’s like Vampire porn for adults.  I’m pretty sure I once banged a guy 4 or 5 times simply because I was so turned on by the show.  And then there’s The Vampire Diaries and man alive if those boys aren’t just the hottest things in town.  I mean, I know in real life they’re incredibly thin and rather short but on the screen, whoa mamma.  All I’m saying is that they’re babes I could fuck for eternity.

Back to The Vampire then.  This reall is one of those situations where I wish I could show you the picture of a “something”.  I’m not going to but I sure do wish I could.  Because then I wouldn’t even need this explanation.  Because you’d just know.  This new possible “something” looked exactly like he should be an actor on a Vampire show.  Not an actual vampire mind you…but like an actor…on one of these shows…like if he ever showed up for an audition those directors and producers would hire him on the spot.  Vampire.  Fucking.  Show.  Actor.  Perfect.  Fit.  Awesome Sauce.  And since I clearly have a thing for that look.  Well I was sold.  Er…mostly.  I mean don’t get me wrong…a summer of bitterness and borderline hatred of boys didn’t make me into an over-the-moon Pollyanna.  But I was willing to at least hear the boy out so to speak.

A few messages were sent back and forth.  He appeared just jaded enough with dating as to realize things like you can message all you want but nothing is real until you meet in person but not so jaded that he seemed bitter and angry.  He was ready to meet whenever I was.  Unfortunately we were midweek and I was busy and then I was off to go camping for the weekend.  Let’s go for a coffee when you’re back from camping he said.  And just like that.  It appeared I had my first potential date of the summer.  But like all the idiots before who I’d had potential dates with, I wasn’t about to count my chicks before they’d hatched.  We would see about this.  Whether or not he followed through.  But for the time being I hate shit to do.  Like tweeting and suntanning in the backyard while studying vocabulary for the GRE I have to take in October…irascible…easily made angry…synonyms…cantankerous; irritable; ornery; testy…how fitting.


Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

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Victoria Young

Writer. Dater. Masturbator. Stop ruining my jokes by believing the self-deprecation. I am far greater than your boner will ever know.