It was a Thursday night at the gym, and Chicken Wing Mark was there. I avoided eye contact, yet the images of him throwing leftover bones on the ground and his face covered in sauce were still etched into my mind from our last date.

I decided to take some time in the locker room, hoping Mark would be gone first. But on my way home, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Mark appeared like a vampire in thin air, "Long time no see! How are you?" he said. "I'm good, you?" 

Mark paused, "I'm great. I wanted to ask, are you busy right now?" I slowed down as we walked through Eglinton's construction-ridden streets. "Just heading home, going to do some work." Mark shrugged, "Take a break, join me for a quick drink? I promise I won't throw any chicken bones." 

I hesitated, standing on the corner of the street, debating whether I should take the subway home or join Mark. He seemed different and showed a level of self-awareness. Give him a chance, I thought to myself. 

8:30 p.m. The Rose and Crown 

Mark led us up the street to The Rose and Crown. A classic, am I right? My friend told me everyone goes on at least one date there. We walked into the dimly lit, rustic bar and sat down.

People watched sports and drank beer; it seemed like an excellent place to go and catch up with friends. 

We sat down, and Mark ordered a beer and onion rings for us to share and, for myself, a Long Island iced tea. The date was actually going well. Mark shared personal anecdotes about his family and life in an endearing way.

But then, he got a little too comfortable. When our onion rings arrived at the table, Mark exclaimed, "Woof! These look good!" Yes, that's right, "woof." I had never heard someone use this word in a sentence. 

As I reached over to grab an onion ring, Mark reached into his mouth and, with his two thumbs, took out an invisible retainer. Saliva dripped on his fingers. After placing his retainer in its case, which stayed on the table, he reached his unclean hands into the basket of onion rings. 

I sipped my drink in dismay. He wasn't wearing a retainer on our last chicken wing date. "You're hardly eating!" said Mark, with a mouthful of onion rings.

"I know, I'm just not very hungry!" 

Mark's face drooped, "It's the retainer, isn't it? You haven't touched the food since I took it out."  

"What? No, I'm just not very hungry." 

Mark shrugged, "More for me then!" 

As I was about to ask Mark a question, he jumped in and told me how I looked tense. Me, tense? Never. Only when on weird dates… 

"Give me your arm," he said. I was confused but reluctantly placed my arm on the table for Mark. Mark began to tickle my arm and, in a high-pitched voice, sung, "Spiders crawling up your arm, spiders crawling down..." WHAT THE —  

He said this always calms him down. It's the thought that counts, right? Regardless, I was ready to call it a night and looked around, trying to find a server. I took another large sip of my drink, sports playing in the background, people at the pool table in dress shirts from a long day at work.

As I looked around the pub, Mark's phone began to ring. "Hello," he answered. "Yes, this is him," his voice ten octaves deeper. "Good to hear from you. Yes, we will make a day to get a brewski soon. I know, everyday is beer-o-clock…Woah, no way — WOOF!"  

Yes, Mark said the word "woof" again. Help.  

The phone call continued, and finally, I asked for the bill. I paid for my drink. Mark paid for the onion rings and his beer.

Finally, he hung up, put the retainer back in his mouth, and we made our way to the brisk streets of Eglinton. We said our goodbyes, and I bolted off into the night, closing the Mark chapter. 

Final Thoughts 

I don't know where to begin. From Mark's peculiar expressions like "Woof" to removing an invisible retainer at the table and proceeding to share food without a care, the date continued to get weirder and weirder. I should have known better after our first date. 

I am curious, where do you meet genuinely good people in Toronto? If you have suggestions, do leave them! And please, do not say dating apps or the bar, and definitely not the gym. 

In the meantime, stay tuned for more Toronto Dating Chronicles!