23 July, 2010

The Male Nurse

They’re never quite what you expect. When I saw this candidate's profile, he looked confident, warm, a bit of a hippy. When he arrived in person he looked like a bit of a loser. His hands were shaking with nerves, and he was wearing a brown pleather jacket with what looked like a cigarette burn in the collar.

Now I should confess that I was no oil painting myself. I’d been wildly drunk the night before, with an ugly head cold to boot. So when he arrived I was both deeply hung over and off my tree on Sudafed, which made me both overly chatty and without the ability to construct a sentence properly. Not an ideal combination, to be sure.

My date was a nurse. I still find this an incongruous combination, and I know that it’s wrong. But somehow, it just seems odd to have men as nurses. I guess I'm reverse sexist.  He’d also, in his time, been a butcher, a baker (although sadly, not a candlestick maker), a roadie, a construction worker and a bee keeper. Like a one man Village People. A Village Person, perhaps.

Anyway, while I’m always partial to a bit of gore in a tale, and was fascinated by the stories of amputated limbs and biohazard bins, flooded morgues and exploding abscesses, hearing about the explosive diarrhoea of the elderly and the rotten stench of someone who’s just shat themselves was just taking it a bit far. Especially over thai minced beef with chilli. I think I ate three bites for the whole meal.

It was nearing the end of the date when Candidate X made a fateful mistake. He said “so, do you want to do this again?” I hate that. I really hate that. I’ve always had a rule that one should never ask a question to which one may not necessarily want to hear the answer.

I’d like to think I said what I did because I was trying to spare his feelings, but the truth is that I’m a coward and didn’t want to tell the brutal truth. So I settled on “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t made up my mind.” Which took him back a little. I think he figured it was all going swimmingly due to my excessive chattiness (and I’m chatty at the best of times. Get a bit of pseudoephedrine into my system and I turn into a regular Robin Williams).

We finished up, split the bill (I insist on splitting the bill), and left. Outside I said, “well, I’ll be in touch!” It was a Seinfeldian lie. I won’t be in touch. I won’t be anything like in touch. I’ll be decidedly out of touch.

I think he knew it. We turned and walked in opposite directions.

1 comment:

  1. I have been enjoying your date stories, this one sounds much like one I went on with a Nurse, he said the same to me, even suggested we go to QLD for a trip, on first date! Anyway keep up the posts, very enjoyable