Plenty of frogs

so.... everytime I say I give up on dating, some crumb is always thrown my way which gives me a moment of hope.  Well, the last crumb was thrown my way while in Barcelona.

Long story short, I had prearranged to meet someone in Barcelona.  That someone didn't live in Barcelona but we were both there at the same time.  I didn't know much about this person and it turns out I didn't need to.  He had emailed me a picture of himself, but again, I didn't need one because he really didn't look anything like his picture!

We had loosely arranged to have dinner on one of my nights there.  Since we had been in touch and had some things in common, we were eager to meet.  However, we both had plans.   Again, long story short, we ended up meeting at 1am in front of Gaudi's LaPedrera and took it from there.  Romantic you say?  Yeah, well I'd have thought so too, but this is my romantic life we're talking about!

He had been out with colleagues and had had a bit to drink.  No problem, I had just finished meeting my friends and we had enjoyed Sangria at a few places along the way.  Now, trying to find somewhere open at 1am is another story.  I thought Barcelona was a city that doesn't sleep, turns out at 1am on a Tuesday, it sleeps.

We did find a bar that was open though.  It was a random bar with no one in it for the first few hours, as time went by, it turned out to be a gay bar frequented by guys with a lot of mullets.  So ironic that we ended up in a gay bar with the worst dressed men in all of Barcelona!  But I digress... we got chatting over a mojito.  And though he didn't look like his picture, I didn't consider it a big deal.  We had a good if tipsy conversation and toward the end he was getting a little touchy-feely so I was picking up "he's into me vibes".  It was all very normal.  Well, as normal as a first date in gay bar in Barcelona at 1am can be...

Flash forward to the next day- our original date date.  He texted me throughout the day about having a bad day, being tired, blah, blah, blah.  I gave him a way out by saying we didn't need to meet for dinner, no sweat (well, a lot of sweat actually since it was 42C in Barcelona!) "no, no" he said, he definitely wanted to do dinner.  ok, fine.

He set up the time and the place.  He shows up for dinner (late but no biggie)  I'm reaching for conversation, understands he's had a bad day so I'm struggling for banter.  I don't know where his personality went, but clearly, he left it at home.

The best was when the bill came.  Now when it comes to dating and the bill, I'm a bit torn.  But I've also accepted I'm a bit old school.  Whenever I get invited on a date (the once or twice a year it happens!)  I always prepare to pay my part.  That being said, to me if a a guy offers to pay it signals that he's enjoyed himself and would perhaps like to see me again.  If this happens, I'm always grateful and happily pay the 2nd date (and if he pays the 2nd date, well if he's really lucky and worthy, I just might make him dinner)   Anyways... the bill came and there was no move.  Having only a credit card on me, I slapped my card down.  Radio silence on the other side of the table.  oooooook.   The waiter comes, I pay.  The best part is, he then grabs the receipt and says "I'm just gonna take the receipt ok, so I can get reimbursed from work".  There are few times where I'm left speechless, but speechless I was.   Wait a minute- you just got your dinner bought for you AND you're taking the receipt so you can get reimbursed from work???  so you're actually MAKING money by going out to dinner with me?!?!?!  well in my head, that's what I said but in real life, I said nothing cause I was speechless.

I should also mention that said fellow was Scottish.  Now I KNOW that "they" say that Scottish people can be cheap but there's nothing more I hate than stereotypes.  Oh wait, yes there is, when someone lives that stereotype!