Of Dead Chivalry and M.T.

This happened quite a few weeks ago, actually, but it stuck in my mind and refused to dissipate until I voiced out about it, so here it is.

Some time in August, as I was walking in Outram Park towards TBB(Tiong Bahru Bar), a place that my friends have taken to patronise because of the cheap spirits package and wine prices, I was approached by an English guy called Ian P, who, after passing by and backtracking to speak with me, asked for my number.

I've always got a bit of a "Why not?" attitude, so I did, and for 2 weeks he just prattled on via Whatsapp, until I told him I'm not keen on being Whatsapp pals and that he should ask me out if that was the motivation behind asking for my number.

So there we were, at PS Cafe on a hazy Monday night, and just to be on the safe side, I ordered only a $29 pasta with no drinks. Conversation was a little stifled, he mumbled a lot and I had to ask him to repeat throughout the dinner, which was one of my pet peeves. 

We skipped desserts, and when the $80 bill came, I habitually prepared myself and reached for my wallet (I've gone on more dutched first dates than most women have to) and there it was - He asked me to pay my share. 

"Just $30 is fine, I'll pay for the fries." Which he ordered for himself while waiting for me.

When we exited the restaurant, Ian actually tried to hold my hand. Read the room, yo! If I came with any interest, it plummeted as he mumbled through the night and made me pay for my meal on a first date. What's more worse was, I really needed a drink after the disastrous time, and I had a bottle of Martin Miller's at Drinks n Co nearby, so I offered that option to him out of courtesy instead of leaving on the spot.

So of course he said yes and went to drink from my bottle.

When we finally bid farewell, he sent me a text and asked me why I even agreed to go out with him if I was so disinterested. So many distasteful words rose to the back of my throat but I swallowed them down, and simply told him that "Sorry, guys who don't pay on the first date is sorta a dealbreaker for me."

And there was that.

It is not that I expect men to always pay for me. M has a cushy career in a hardware company, and while I got used to nice restaurants and new cool spots on our Saturdate nights, I've never let him pay the full way. 

When we went to Koh Phi Phi, he paid for the expensive resort, so I made sure I try to pay for the Phuket stay, transportations all over, and drinks. When we went out on our Saturdates, he would pay for the more expensive dinners and I would take care of the more affordable ones, or pay for drinks or brunch the next day - Even though I only earn about 1/5 his salary, or less, considering he doesn't have CPF. Lol.

Anywayyyyy - I'm not a Do Nothing Bitch; I do not believe in sponging off men, but I do believe strongly in the first date rule, and after all, I'm a woman. It'll be nice to be pampered once in awhile.

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Speaking of exes, I have really given up on Mike. Officially, I swear!

We'd maintain a sorta friendship recently, one that hinged on the SOLE premise that we do this as long as we are both not seeing anyone yet - so last Saturday we were supposed to head to the driving range and then hang out at a block party in town, but he got sick and I decided to head over to his place with dinner, soup, craft beers and movies.

After a few hours of movie, cuddling and head massages for him, I headed home, and woke up full-blown sick the next day. I texted him and we discussed the symptoms (we both love to Google research), and one of it that popped up in my mind was HPV, which is sexually transmitted only. When I brought that up, M discussed its other symptoms, and said he did not have it, so it's likely not HPV.

I then reiterated that HPV is sexually transmitted, why didn't you strike that out, right off the bat? Did you have sex recently?

"Aiyah. Where do you get that idea??"

"Cos asked you if possibly sexually transmitted and you didn't answer wot. And you still didn't deny it! Lol."

That was last Sunday afternoon. I never heard from him again.

Of course, I did the obligatory Google search on his name to see if it pops up in an Obituary, because why else would he have dropped off the face of the Earth, right?

It didn't. Just on a bunch of articles and unfortunately no Obits and no hospitalisation news.

Took me 5 months to finally bed you. That lady took, what, a month? Kudos to her immense capability. 

With that said, I leave you in her capable hands to care for you, Michael. 15 months on, after 6 breakups (from you) and having my I love yous thrown back in my face, I am finally done convincing myself you're a great guy whom I should continue to care for. I'm gladful for my contribution towards your confidence, but I have tried my best to be good to you, and I now take my leave with zero regrets.


I won't be telling you I love you anymore.

Everyday.

Everyday I spent my time, drinking wine, feeling fine. Waiting here to find the sign, that I can understand - yes I am.