I was so overwhelmed with grief that it was physically painful and this was, undoubtedly, a heartbreaking moment that I will not soon forget. It was… the first time I disliked a Finnish person.
Pretty sure it started when he told me that he is from Finland but he’s more Swedish per se.( direct quote)
He might have made it worse by telling me he is here on a blind date with an Estonian girl with whom he is sharing a hotel room.Luvley, I thought to myself.
1. Blind date. So, he had never met this girl before.
2. Checked in the same hotel room with her.
3. He didn’t really like his blind date. Shocking, who could have foreseen this?
4. His Estonian date emptied the mini-bar. Sounded promising.
5. Then she passed out on the bed. Even more promising.
6. He was concerned. Not so promising.
7. The Swedish-wannabe Finn was so concerned that he invited me out on a date. Thank you Tinder for the UN-MATCH feature.
He had all his own teeth and a full head of hair. Was from New York. All his sentences started with: ” I know I’m not special but…” or “It doesn’t matter that I’m from NY but…”. I found him to be very humble.
We talked. Walked. Something quite demanding for me as I find it difficult to do two things at any one time.
First warning sign was when he literally lifted me off the ground then placed me down on his right side. At his 6 ft 6 and 270 pound frame I felt like a mantle piece being moved in its rightful place. However, I was pretty busy trying to walk & talk at the same time.
Second warning sign was when he loudly demanded in a crowded restaurant to be seated away from people, mentioning casually he hates them. At this point, I felt something was wrong, but something shiny had caught my attention and I was soon distracted.
Evening went on without anymore glitches. I had laid my doubts to rest. I got home. He had sent me a text asking if I was ok.
Already in love, I reciprocated by asking if he was ok.
He launched into an entire speech about how rude I was to have ordered our cab to drop him off then drop me off. I thought, what a gentleman, he wanted to drop me off first. “You should have spent the night over, but whatever.” Confused and a little shocked( which is quite a normal reaction in my case for nearly everything) my insecure, caring and soft side took over and I un-matched him.
He was tall, handsome, a multi-millionaire. Direct descendant of the queen(UK not an NY trans) and living in LA next door to Sharon Stone. He was incredible. He was a pathological liar and not a very good one.
Hence, I was compelled to date him. Mandatory!
We went to a steak house. He spent half an hour picking the wine and managed to pick the most expensive bad wine on the entire menu. Ah, finally, a connoisseur!
He babbled the whole evening something about investments, coal, millions of dollars, euro and other currencies, including all his famous friends, magazines he appeared in and a lot of information on what a great guy he is. I agreed. He definitely taught me to look way past a person’s words and deep into my salad. Ah yes, I ordered a salad, then proceeded to eat his steak for the whole night.
I agreed with the wine then complained it makes me dizzy. He drank the whole bottle by himself. Babbled more about what he owns, where he buys what from. I kept mostly silent but would ask the occasional question looking deeply into his eyes: “Do you think green makes people evil?”
His sharp wit would surely grasp one word out of my question and come back with an answer that was about him, his money or his life. More talk, more wine for him. At one point he was a direct descendant of Sharon Stone and living next to the Queen.
I told him he’s very special, he told me he knows. Ah, I’m definitely seeing him again.
Conclusion: Although I have been un-matching like crazy, I am the proud owner of 20+ males on my Class I list. A mailshot will be sent to the lucky gentlemen.