At the end of last year, when I was searching for (yet another) apartment in Amsterdam, I got in touch with a Bulgarian guy Martin about subletting his apartment. I didn’t end up taking it, but we decided to keep in touch anyway via Facebook as he was also in the startup scene.
Throughout the next couple of months, I followed, virtually, his process of starting his own business, working as a digital nomad from the Canary Islands, and very actively posting inspirational writings and videos. Seemed like the type of person that I can relate to and would want to network with.
One of his posts that caught my attention was that he considers “his ability to make friends with anyone” to be his greatest life skill. So I was intrigued to know this and thought that he’s probably be a pretty cool guy.
Therefore, when he reached out to me after returning to the Netherlands, and asked if I want to visit Delft, where he lives, I decided to go and meet him in person on a Sunday.
My expectation was that I’d have a friendly meetup with a sociable and interesting person. In reality, it felt like a very awkward date with someone who seemed borderline like a creep.
Martin met me in the train station of Delft.
Things started out normally. We took a walk and he showed me around the Delft city center.
We got some ice cream, and as we walked along the canals he suddenly said “give me your hand, I want to show you something.” Thought it would be rude not to do it, so I awkwardly held his hand as he led me into a “secret hidden under canal” seat. I quickly retracted my hand.
Then, he wanted to show me the Delft University campus so we had to go by bike. His bike seat was rock hard and tiny for some reason, so half my butt was hanging off the bike the whole time. Needless to say after a 15 minute bike ride my butt was sore and also my arm was numb from gripping onto the bike seat so I didn’t fall off.
On the dreaded ride back, I had to sit a lot closer to him in order not to suffer like I did the first time around. Martin said I should put my arms around him as it will be more comfortable that way. It was a lot more comfortable and a lot easier on my rear, but I really didn’t want to be embracing him! Plus he smelled like sweat!
We got back into the city center and decided to get some dinner, at a Thai restaurant. This is when he then told me he was attracted to Asian women. Wasn’t sure how to respond to that and if he was hinting at something but I guess every man is entitled to their own taste.
However, things quickly turned bad for me. Somehow, we were speaking on the topic of “shy looking girls who turn out to be crazy.”
He launched into a story about his date a couple years ago with an Asian woman. He said the girl looked normal, sweet and quiet on the outside and during their dinner out. After their dinner, they were supposed to go clubbing together and the girl needed to go home to change her outfit, so they went together.
The girl was changing in the bathroom while Martin waited, sitting on his bed. She was taking a long time, and when she finally emerged from the bathroom, Martin’s jaw dropped down to the ground.
She walked out sensually from the bathroom wearing high heels, a mini dress, and a carnival mask. She proceeded to start dancing and gave him a strip tease.
At this point, Martin thought that he hit the jackpot. I was quite irked about why he is telling me a sex story without me asking and the amount of detail that’s going into this. But since I was polite and wanted to know what the point was where she turned out to be crazy, I smiled and nodded for him to go on.
As they were on her bed, the Asian girl opened her bedside drawer and took out a whip. Martin had never tried whips before but after a few lashes decided that he liked it and that it turned him on. They took turns whipping each other, getting more and more aroused.
Martin must have seen that I looked quite uncomfortable and asked if I want him to continue. I quickly said, “OK, but where’s the part that she is crazy? Just skip all these details!”
So, Martin continued. The girl was on top of him when she went for the drawer again. This time, she took out a small blade. That’s why Martin was like “Holy shit what is happening?!”
The girl said her ex boyfriend used to cut her in her inner thigh during sex. So she also wanted him to do the same.
Of course, Martin wouldn’t do it, as it was just too much.
So far, the story has elicited a huge “WTF” on my end. First of all, who tells a sex story to someone you just met and a f*cked up one no less. And second of all, I didn’t even ask to hear this story. But the golden moment of WTF-ness came when he turned to me and asked, “What about you, what are you into? I mean not saying you are into the crazy stuff, but what about the normal stuff?”
Um, did he really just ask me that?
I said, sternly, “Um I just met you? I’m not going to answer that.” He apologized a couple times and things got pretty awkward after that. I’ve pretty much lost interest and respect in him at this point.
I usually like to make some broad cultural generalizations in my posts, especially when it comes to writing about men. But this time I won’t blame his behavior on any particular culture – I’m just attributing it to him being a creeper.
On the bright side, I found out that Delft has green canals. That was the only delightful thing that came out of my Sunday afternoon trip to Delft.
2 Replies to “My “Date Gone Wrong” in Delft”
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