Dating Disasters: ‘He tore out of the street at full speed, without saying anything’

In Dating Disasters vertellen anonieme lezers over hun gênantste, meest tenenkrommende en dramatische dates. Deze week: a letdown at the Amsterdam canal.

That I am not a star at driving, I have never made a secret of. I was very relieved when my date said he would pick me up for an evening in the heart of Amsterdam. If I had to get myself there, I would either never have arrived or ended up in a canal with my car. I really don't understand how people dare to park their cars there, so I was glad to have met someone who could solve that problem for me from now on. We had already seen each other three times, so I wasn't very nervous. This was going to be fine, I thought. It was at least fun enough to keep going for a while. Until that one evening in Amsterdam…

Everything seemed to be going well until we went looking for a parking spot. He insisted on squeezing his car into the smallest spot I had ever seen and asked me to get out first. With a spasm in my cringe muscle, I watched him repeatedly maneuver his car back and forth in an attempt to parallel park. Several times I indicated that I thought it really wouldn't work, but with every word I said, he seemed to get more and more irritated. It was the most unattractive sight ever, and while I tried to think of how I was going to get myself out of this, I heard two thuds. He had bumped into the car in front of and behind him. Before I could react, I was surprised again. He sped out of the street without saying a word.

That I was stunned was an understatement. There I stood, in heels that were not made for the wobbly stones at the Amsterdam canals and a date that had vanished without a trace. After about five minutes (the longest five minutes of my life), he called me. He had finally found a parking spot and sent me his location, asking if I could come there. I checked on Google Maps where he was and saw that it was about a kilometer and a half walk. No way in hell was I going to do that, of course. I took a seat in the nearest café and told him he could come to me. Over twenty minutes later, he came in, panting, sweaty, and grumpy. He became even grumpier when I decided to leave after half a drink. I was so turned off by this man, there was no saving it. I took public transport home. My feet barely survived, but thankfully my self-esteem did.

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