Valentine’s Day. The season for romance, candlelit dinners, and, if you’re anything like me, dating disasters that are so wild they could probably get their own Netflix special. While everyone’s out celebrating love, I figured I’d take a moment to share a cautionary tale. It’s a story of confusion, betrayal, and one woman’s tragic misunderstanding of potatoes.
So, if you’re flying solo this Valentine’s Day, don’t sweat it. Trust me, a night alone with some gluten-free pasta beats what I went through any day.
This all went down back in my single days, about six months before I met my wife. I was just a guy trying to survive the madness of online dating, hoping to meet someone who wouldn’t accidentally feed me a crouton. Little did I know, I was about to dive headfirst into one of the most confusing dates of my life.
The Catfish & The Potato Fiasco
Online dating… You know it’s a gamble, right? You match with someone, chat for a bit, and hope that when you show up to meet them in person, they actually look like the person in the photos. Well, here’s how it went down for me:
This woman seemed great. Funny, charming, and, based on her photos, looked roughly my age. So, we met up at a restaurant. I walked in, looking around for her, and then—bam—someone waved at me.
Let’s just say… the pictures she’d used were about as accurate as a fake ID. The woman sitting in front of me looked at least 20 years older than her profile suggested and looking at the profile pics after, I was pretty sure she was a completely different person.
I kept it together, because, hey, I’m a professional at this point. Maybe her personality would make up for the mismatch and don’t get me wrong the age difference would not normally bother me, but lying is not a great way to start a first date off.
We sat down, and as the conversation developed I mentioned I was gluten-free. She said, “Oh, you’re coeliac? That’s funny—I’ve just gone gluten-free too!”
“Really?” I said, hoping for some common ground as something just wasn’t clicking.
She grinned, proud of herself. “Yeah, the hardest part was giving up potatoes.”
…
I stared at her. She must have meant bread, right?
“Uh… potatoes are gluten-free, you know?” I said, trying to keep my tone light, hoping maybe she was just a bit confused.
“No, they’re not,” she said, with the absolute conviction of someone who’d spent years studying the gluten in potatoes. “They’ve got loads of gluten.”
That was it. Game over. It’s not like a didn’t try and I didn’t think I could take much more.
I needed to leave, but I couldn’t just get up and run like I’d seen a ghost in my soup. So, I did what any rational person would do—I excused myself to the bathroom, pulled out my phone, and called my best friend.
“Hey, I need you to ring me in 10 minutes, pretend there’s an emergency, and make it sound urgent.”
She didn’t even ask why. That’s friendship.
I got back to the table, sat down, and tried my hardest to act like I was still in this. Ten minutes later, my phone rang. I picked up, put on my most concerned face, and said, “What? Oh no… yeah, I’ll be right there.”
I hung up, looked at her, and gave my best “Oh, this is so inconvenient” expression. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. There’s an emergency.”
I got home, made a plate of gluten-free mashed potatoes, and reflected on my life choices.
At first being gluten free can be hard, trying to understand what’s gluten-free and not is a minefield however she was convinced about this little fact with potatoes and I’m convinced to this day that she lied about being gluten-free, just like she did with her profile.
Six months after this disaster, I met my wife. And from day one, she already understood the fundamentals. She would ask questions and she would listen and always did her best and still does to make life as easy as possible for me. No trying to convince me potatoes were out to get me. Just mutual respect for my dietary needs and a shared love of good food. That, folks, is true love.
So, if you’re single this Valentine’s Day, don’t feel bad. Trust me, it’s way better to be alone than to be stuck at a table with a woman who thinks chips are a health risk.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a romantic dinner planned—with my wife, a bottle of wine, and dish with a side of new boiled potatoes.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!
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