The Night My Date Nearly Ended In The Emergency Ward

Remember that date I had from Tinder where my date’s fiancé showed up, beat the crap out of him and ended up with police statements? Well this doesn’t quite rival that but it’s fairly close.

Internet dating has its pros and cons of course, and I’ve had my fair share of both. I love meeting new people though so it’s rare I come away thinking I’ve wasted my time or that the date was a failure even if there isn’t going to be a second date – and nine times out of ten there isn’t.

Get in to the story I suppose you’re thinking! So… I went to yoga in the park in South Bank (which was awesome by the way – thanks MediBank), arrived home and began to cook. At which time I also checked my Bumble (similar to Tinder but better if you ask me) account… as you do. A guy, let’s call him ‘Fred,’ had messaged a few minutes earlier asking me to dinner that evening. I replied that I already had dinner on. Long story short he persuaded me to meet him for Italian. Being post-yoga, I was ravenous so suggested we meet in 20ish mins.

I arrived at the restaurant and Fred is seated enjoying some water. He immediately apologised for a dry cough and explained it wasn’t contagious. Slightly awkward, but whatever. Fred is convinced food will help so we ordered garlic bread to get started.

The garlic bread didn’t help. Turned out Fred has low blood pressure and is concerned it might be related. Also turned out, Fred had been at the doctors earlier that day but after an hour wait, had to get going to a work appointment. Also, also turned out that he’d had the week before off to cope with this new medical condition that had something to do with a heart condition.

By this stage I was fairly concerned. Our mains had arrived and my new friend Fred is coughing up a storm, could barely speak, let alone hold convo and had turned pale and sweaty.

He cut the date short, apologising and I offered to take him to the doctors. Or hospital. He replied he had drugs to take at home and could I take him to his apartment as his flatmate had moved out as they were about to move, and could I also wait ten minutes to make sure he would be okay.

Looking back I should have just called an ambulance. Hindsight – great thing, right?!

Inaccurate representation of the date with Fred

Instead I asked his address, sent it to my flatmate, told him my flatmate would be picking me up soon and I was sharing my live location. Gotta keep safe!!! I could genuinely see this guy not only needed help but was really scared too. I made the right call but if I was in the same position again, I would def. just call an ambulance.

So we walked back and he was not doing well. Struggling for breath, I was worried he would collapse. We got through the door (me sending constant updates to my flatmate, David) he grabbed his drugs, landed on the couch and tried to pull it together. I made him take off his tie and undo his top shirt buttons. I then told him stories for 20 minutes to help him relax. I tried numerous times to take him to the doctors.

Eventually he relaxed and he (and myself) felt a lot better. Told me I could leave. I waited another ten minutes then I made him get his phone charger and put it beside his bed with some water and to relax.

He came outside with me and (hilariously) tried to kiss me not once, not twice but three times!!! He couldn’t understand why I wasn’t interested and asked if it was coughing. I responded that I was concerned he would pass out! But I was really thinking, ‘Mate you’re kidding! You take me on a date, nearly die, put me in a potentially compromising situation, I practically have to medicate you and then you think I want to kiss you?! Ha!’ Saved by the bell, my uber turned up.

I got home and worried all evening. I so wished I just took him to hospital. He messaged that he was okay but obviously I was still concerned.

He messaged in the morning he had a bad night and was going to docs. They sent him straight to emergency and when I left for Vietnam a few days later, he was still in hospital.

I do feel for him, I’ve been in situations where I’ve feared for my health and been alone and it’s exceptionally scary. A first date def wasn’t the right place to seek help though! He later messaged me he shouldn’t have gone on a date that night. No shit Fred.

A huge thanks to the support of my flatmate Dave, ensuring sure I was safe, letting me vent and listening to me fretting until I heard from Fred again.

I wish Fred a swift recovery and hope he understands when I refuse a second date!

UPDATE: Fred did not understand and continues to contact me… 

A day in the life of a shrub

A guest blog from my dear friend, Lisa...

I have had an epiphany…. it’s going to blow your mind …. take a seat and strap yourselves in cuz this one’s a doozy.

So I’ve been dating a lovely young fellow for the past 3 months and it is all going swimmingly. But around this time of the, shall we say, “interaction”, your couple friends start to ask the age old question ….

“Have you had the chat yet? Is it official?”

And my answer is “Well of course bloody not, I don’t want a man sized hole in my door ! I’d like to keep him around for a little longer thanks !”

And that’s when they give me the “look”. Part sympathy, part “the wheel is turning but the hamsters dead,” sort of look like I AM A NUTTER.

Listen folks…. I get it…. in the perfect world when men didn’t have access to Tinder and its never ending supply of slaggy mac slaggisons it would be a good time to sit someone down who you like and talk about your feelings… or some shit like that.

But in the REAL WORLD … where I currently reside … it is not so simple…. and here comes my epiphany.

I just had yet another similar discussion with my couple friend and she asked me the question why? Why do you think that way? Why can’t you just be honest with the person you’re with? I don’t understand.

And I gave her this little juicy morsel….

Because men… are like a delicate little flower. And these flowers… need water to survive… but if you give them too much water …they will drown. Instead, they need to be nurtured… bit by bit, day by day… little by little.. and given just enough for them to grow big and strong – until they’re the size of a bloody willow and they didn’t actually notice you’ve given them more and more water until they’re drinking down a trough – but by then its too late and they can’t live without it.

And my friend was like…… ‘ohhhhhhhhhhhhh I get it now’

So you see kids?! Us women need to be subtle creatures of the night … slowly but surely luring our men into a false sense of security before they relinquish their freedom. It’s a sad state of events but in the new world of easily accessible punani, one must do what one must to survive in this cruel world.

I miss the good old days where men were more like cactus’s …. just grateful to have water within a 100 m radius of them. … but alas… those golden years are gone.

And although it sounds a bit mad… we woman must dance our little ninja water dance until our selected flower is big and strong….. but until that day… my single ladies .. I suggest you buy a good set of pruners and some sturdy gardening gloves, as you’ll be at it for a while.

xxx Lisa


A Tinder-tastrophe

Or, a Tinder catastrophe.

Tonight I went on a Tinder date. I was all set for a lovely evening but instead it ended with a police statement.

Lets call him Joe.

I was talking to ‘Joe’ yesterday (after messaging off and on for a few weeks) and he asked to take me to the movies. I was really keen to see the Hunger Games and seeing as this was my only free night this week I agreed.

We met at South Bank cinema where the lovely Joe had already purchased our tickets, popcorn and drinks. Rather thoughtful.

In the cinema we chatted the whole time until the movie started. He was intelligent, witty, built like a brick shithouse and I was pleased I made the effort to meet him.

We had a couple of laughs during the movie and afterwards he invites me to choose somewhere to go for dinner. Hilariously, he had already approached someone called Rachael in the line for tickets and she had gently explained she was the wrong Rachael and he was mortified!

After the movies he asked me if I would like to join him for dinner. We walked all around South Bank and settled on Ahmets, ordered drinks and a bunch of plates to share. I had a delicious glass of red and warm, fresh bread with baba ganoush dip and was enjoying some great conversation with good ol’ Joe at the front of the outdoor dining section of the restaurant.

Next thing I know a lady taps me on the shoulder, I turn around and she asks ‘are you on a date?’ Confused, I looked blankly and she repeated the question, to which I replied yes. BAM!!! She punches him smack bang in the face then follows up with a strong slap before looking at me yelling ‘I’m his fiancé!’ Then attacking him running down the street.

With about 30 pairs of eyes on me I just sat there dumbfounded. Absolutely gob smacked. Eventually all the patrons began asking if I was okay and the staff came over to take care of me. One lady yelled out ‘excuse me Miss, is that your boyfriend?’ to which I replied ‘actually, I think he is her boyfriend’ which conjured a collective gasp from the other patrons. I hands down thought I was being punk’d! Embarrassed, I grabbed my bag and went inside.

The staff were so very kind to which I am thankful. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I had just paid the bill for both our dinners (with a heavy discount thanks to the considerate staff member) when security showed up.

Then the fiancé came back to ask me about her partner.

How did I meet him? Tinder.
Did I know he was engaged? Of course not.
When did we start talking? Last night.
Were we going to have sex? No lady, it’s just dinner and a movie.

My heart went out to this poor woman who had just been going for a casual dessert with a friend when she stumbled across her fiancé of three years, whom she shares a UK visa with, sitting having a date with me. Way to ruin your evening.

Next thing I know, the cops show up. ‘Joe’ had been found covered in blood wandering around South Bank. She’d beaten the crap out of him. Good job I say!

After giving my statement to the police who had joined the Tinder-tastrophe party and packing up my dinner to eat later (funnily enough I had lost my appetite) I walked back to my car only to find an $85 parking ticket. What a night!


Brisbane-based lifestyle and travel blog image featuring mountain and sea scenery

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