DATING: AL DENTE
Chapter 1: The Guy Who Jumped Out Of My Car

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Decision time. I told him I wasn't enjoying our get-together and that I'd be happy to drop him off at a subway stop on my way home. "No no!," he said. "Don't go! I want to make it up to you and buy you dinner -- at my ex-girlfriend's FAVOURITE RESTAURANT!"

Oh, yay! Hmmmmm. Shit. Hmmmm. Well...I WAS hungry...and it was a long drive home... I relented: "OK." I could probably eat some pasta and then go home, no hard feelings. We got into my car, gave up my $16 parking spot, and began the search to find yet another one in the vicinity of this holy restaurant. Keep in mind this is downtown Toronto, this is Valentine's Day, this is 9:00 on a Saturday night. Parking spot? Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Sheba.

We drove around and around, scouting out an entire grid of side streets within a 3-mile radius of the place...all the while this twit was sitting beside me ordering me to "Turn off the radio -- I have sensitive ears!" and "Don't chew gum when I'm with you -- it disgusts me!" and "I hope you're not going to smoke this evening -- I could just KILL people who pollute the air!" and "Oh my goodness, you're driving rather aggressively, aren't you?"

While this more-than-ample 30-minute waste of my time was elapsing, I developed the getting-uncomfortable need to pee. Plus I had raging PMS and I hadn't eaten a thing since that morning's bowl of Special K, and when I get a sugar imbalance I simply cannot be held accountable for my actions. This guy smelled a bit off, too. Kind of stale -- it bothered me. So finally I just told him that it wasn't working out and that I was going to drive home, and could I drop him off to get some take-out somewhere so he could eat?

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