Dating The Living Dead

Once again I realized that most women of my age are truly a pain in the ass. I went all the way from Ghajnsielem (Gozo) to Valleta (Malta) for a badoo date. It´s only  37 km away but it takes some travel time. And yes: I should have known better. Despite of the great chat on the dating app her voice sounded pretty old on the phone.

Questions that must be asked

The sun was shining. The streets of Valleta looked great and cozy. My date on the other hand… First of all she didn´t look at all like the pictures she posted on her profile. (Why do people do that? It´s asking for trouble.)

Secondly the conversation felt like something in between a police interrogation and a job interview. Pretty annoying. Too many people got used to pretending to be important. (And still they want something from you.) No idea why I went on the date in the first place. Sex, loneliness? One thing was for sure: I wasn´t thinking.

I decided to put on end to the charade.

  • I paint and write stories, I replied.
  • Such nice hobbies, she said, how lovely.
  • Well, they´re not really hobbies. That´s why I´m always broke. But it´s okay. My heart is returning to the world of the living. Anyway, this date is over. Let´s get the bill.

She looked a bit surprised but I couldn´t care less. Fair play to her: she suggested sharing the bill.

  • Leave it, I said, I´m old school.

I paid the bill. (As I expected she didn´t put up much of a fight.) Said good bye, as you do, gave 5 euro to the street musician (because he was really good) and got bus 42 back to Cirkewwa where I took the ferry to Mgarr.

For some reason I didn´t feel like going home, nor like having a last beer in one of the local bars. So I jumped on bus 301 to Victoria.

Questions that just pop up

Time to chillax. I enjoyed the Stella an lit a cigarette.

I felt someone staring at me. Some young woman sitting on the table next to me. Pretty hot, probably Italian. (I didn´t ask.)

  • Smile, she said when our eyes met. (Which made me smile.) “You looked far away.”
  • Only 37 km from Ghajnsielem, I replied.

Just to see how she would react (and for the fun of it) I told her everything about my disaster date earlier.

  • So just because you didn´t feel attracted to her? Or was it because she called painting a hobby?
  • I guess the thing was, I explained, that she was empty inside. Completely dead. Age does that to most people. No passion to be found. I mean: where did all the dreams go? And I´m not talking about a new car or whatever.
  • Anyone who desires nothing is happy in a sense, she said.
  • Maybe, but that´s not the point in this case.
  • Okay. One question. Why do you paint?
  • No idea, I replied, sometimes the path only reveals itself once you start walking it.
  • Why don´t we go to my place for a drink and a smoke? I live just around the corner. I might even let you have a look at my paintings.
  • Why don´t we, I said. Sounds like a plan. Let´s go.

 

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