Strawberry saga

Remember the Bieber-loving Strawberry? Voici le chapter 2 of the Strawberry Saga:

I was not at all subtle whilst eavesdropping his disastrous dating diatribe on Halloween. Rather, I burst out laughing, and started taking notes on my phone, so as to not forget key details for my blog. Strawberry noticed my unusual behaviour; I asked him to confirm details (it was homemade apple crumble), explained that I too had terrible dating experiences, enough to fuel a blog about being a vanilla accountant on the Montreal dating scene. The conversation would have perhaps continued, but I had to make sure Cinderella (P-dot’s daughter) didn’t get herself run over. Kids, these days. No survival instincts: protect the trick-or-treating spoils at all costs, sheesh!!!

The next evening on Nov 1, I received an email from Strawberry. He’d googled “accountant vanilla dating Montreal”, found my blog, read the post about him and read half my blog. He seemed equally affected by my description of him (“tall, attractive”) as by my self-description as Vanilla, which he disagreed with, on the basis of my lively sense of humour. This led to a flurried exchange of emails, and presto! We agreed to meet the following weekend for coffee to exchange trainwreck dating stories. 

2 days later, he emailed me to request that we reschedule our bitch-fest because he had a last minute rehearsal for the community theatre group he was part of. He actually forwarded me the email from the play’s director, as evidence that this was new information to him, and he wasn’t rudely jerking me around. Swoon. God save the Queen for instilling such beautiful manners in her people.

On a whim, I looked up his theatre group, and told him I’d come to one of the shows, as long as that wouldn’t be considered creepy. 

That is how I found myself this past Saturday evening in a sketchy part of town, in a dilapidated beautiful old building, surrounded by strangers, watching an amateur play. Strawberry was excellent, and quite as good-looking dressed in a variety of costumes as he had been on a dark fruity Hallow’s Eve.

Afterwards he introduced me to the Bieber-hating girl, as she was one of his fellow-actors. She smiled approvingly at me, having read my blog, and confided that not only had Strawberry expressed Bieberfever during that ill-fated date, but he’d waxed lyrical about Bieber’s talent and professed a deep-seated desire to one day be featured on a Bieber album as a songwriter. #lifegoals

And so ended my first adventure caused by my blog. It was quite a surreal experience, meeting the people that had so briefly inhabited my writer’s world and weirder still to hear myself described not as an accountant but as a “talented blogger” by strangers. The dream of becoming a legit author grows stronger.

To wrap up, for any of my readers living in Montreal with children, check out Strawberry’s play. Proceeds raised during this period serve to fund a free theatre group for youths aged 7-17. That is, as we say in French, le awesome.




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