Introducing Shakespeare’s “The Courtship of SomethingSheDated and The Garbage Man”


A Tale of Star Crossed Lovers (as told by a Vancouver dating blogger)

Two profiles, both alike in dignity,
In fair Vancouver, where we lay our scene,
From ancient heart-break to new cupidity,
Where stupid boys make crazy minds unclean.
From forth the craving loins of these two joes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers frustrate their life;
Whose misadventured messaging overthrows
Do with their lust bury their ex’s strife.
The heated feeling she impatient of,
With the proliferation of her controlling rage,
Which, his slow tardy notes, nought could remove,
Is now the lengthy blogs of this our stage;
The which if you with patient eyes attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

This, is the story of the Garbage Man

When I look back now, it felt like I had been single for months and months but in actuality, the ex (henceforth referred to as MegaLove) and I broke up over thanksgiving (the canadian one) and I was already online dating by early December, but I was also in university at the start of my second BA so December was filled with exams, not boys.  And that brings me to Garbage Man, whose courtship went something like this:

He messages me.

I respond.

Witty repartee.

Witty repartee.

Witty repartee.

Pros:  He’s normal, tall (good stance) and has the witty repartee

Cons: His photos are not great (I’d give him a 4) though I think potential

Witty repartee

Witty repartee.

Witty repartee.

He asks for my phone number.

I give it to him.

He texts.

I text back.

He asks if it’s cool if he calls (aka am I free).

I say no, super busy with school, I’ll call tomorrow night.

Next night I call. No answer. I leave message.

While talking to TheHel (my friend) he calls, I don’t want to answer but TheHel makes me.

We talk for about half an hour (This is 2009 and I still have pay as you go! Fuck!)

He asks if we can hang out.

I tell him I’m too busy right now with school (Monday) but I’ll text in a week when I’m less busy.


Friday (5 days later)

I text.

He texts.

We make plans.

Coffee tomorrow.

He’ll call at noon.

I send pics of all the cute boys I’m talking to at the moment: ATL, Garbage Man, 44yr old., The Alice Cooper, The Barbie guy, The firefighter.  She firmly supports Garbage Man (and ATL).  I’m super nervous, internet dating, really?  Why does it feel so much weirder at 28 than say 22?  The Hel convinces me to give them a go.  She clearly sees potential.



He calls around noon.

We make plans

Starbucks @ 6pm

Halfway between his place and mine


To Be Continued… 


*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.