Dating Kit

Adventures of a Single Girl…

The Revhead Who Stalled My Engine

on March 24, 2018

It’s Grand Prix time in Melbourne and that’s usually a pretty exciting time to be here. If you’re not from Melbourne, we’re a social city and have lots going on all the time, but we step it up for big occasions, like the GP or our AFL Grand Final.

People come from all over the world for these events, and the locals get excited too, because we are a sporting nation, and Melbourne is our sporting capital. I’ve been before, when I was married. My husband bought tickets for us and my sister, for her birthday. I’m not into cars of any kind, but as I’m always keen to experience new things, I went along.

It was loud, and busy, and as it was the Sunday – the day of the final – Albert Park Lake was abuzz with excitement.  It was a fun day, but meh. Not my thing.

A couple of weeks ago, I was offered tickets to the GP, which was very cool! It’s held over four days, the first three being heats for the big race, and races of various other kinds of vehicle.  I’m not into car racing at all, so I wouldn’t think to take time off work on the Thursday and Friday. It’s cheaper to get in on those days but of course there’s less exciting stuff going on. At the weekend, I couldn’t afford to buy the ticket at all.

But, I’m not as into car racing as lots of people are. I’ve met men who are maaaaaaaaaaad for it. Frankly, I don’t get it. It bores me silly.  Not only am I not into it, I actually quite dislike it. I find it extremely bogan, and just completely removed from the world I live in and the life I live. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still the cash poor single woman who started this blog years ago, but I’m just not into cars.

I don’t get the car culture. In Australia, you’re either a Holden fan or a Ford fan. And then there’s V8s, Moto GP, Formula One, and the rest. Whatevs!! People get around wearing clothes with car brand logos on them and I just groan. If they’re wearing a t shirt with a logo on it, I can cope. But it’s when they wear the t shirt, and the jacket and the hat or the beanie. It’s too much!

Fortunately, my ex husband wasn’t into it. Of course, he also didn’t have his driver’s licence, which actually would have actually been helpful! Anyhoo, as I’m not into the car racing thing, the type of guy who is, doesn’t exactly fit into ‘my type’ of guy.

But, a couple of years ago, after I was divorced, and I was back on the dating scene, one such guy popped up. We chatted online and he seemed nice enough. I think his name was Darren, but to be honest, I hadn’t thought about him in years, until something about the GP brought him back to the fore. My colleague and I were talking about the type of people I’d be seeing at the GP- and there he was in my mind.

At the time I ‘met’ him, I was being open to all sorts of men. I knew the type of man I’d married, but knew that here was my chance to widen my scope and not be so stuck on a particular type. And, a guy who was into car racing was definitely beyond my scope! Not only was he into cars, but he was a pit crew member. I know, of all the guys I could possibly meet! Sooooo not fair!

I can’t remember the chats, but I’ve never been one to go on a date for the hell of it, so there must have been some sort of substance to our conversations for me to have gone ahead with setting up a date with him.

We arranged to meet at Crown casino, at a bar which has long since closed down. It was evening, and I’d dressed for drinks at Melbourne’s biggest establishment. Crown was more fancy back then, and going there was an occasion. Knowing me, I would have worn a cute dress or perhaps some shorts and a top- and high heels, I nearly always wear high heels, especially on a date.

Darren and I texted while we each approached the bar, and when I got there he was there, sitting at a closed part of the bar. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. There he was, facing the door on a bar stool, as though he was a king sitting on his throne.

That was okay, but what the hell was he wearing? I’ll tell you. It was a jacket which was so big and so long, and so completely covered in car badges- EMBLAZONED with badges for various models, accessory brands, sponsors. It was gross. And it was NOT date attire. When I pointed out his jacket (not the first words out of my mouth!!), he talked all about it, and his job. He was so keen on it, that he had no idea that I’d completely tuned out and was only giving him eye contact, and no actual attention. Then, of course, he told me aaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllll about his job on the pit crew for whatever type of car racing he was into. I’ve no idea, and I don’t think I did at the time.

I remember enjoying my drink immensely, because it was the highlight of the night.

I made up some bullshit about having to go and meet friends (which is also another great reason to look amazing when you go out, because you can say you’re going out afterwards, even if you’re not), and hotfooting it out of there.

I think we texted a little in the following days, but that was it. There’s no way I could continue to go out with a guy who thinks it’s acceptable to wear racing gear on a date. Do I wear my netball uniform? Nope. They’d probably like that, but no. If I was into cooking, would I wear an apron? No, because it’s not what you wear on a bloody date!

He’s done, and so am I with dating people who don’t know how to dress to impress me. End of.



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