Date Diaries: The Man Who Brought Lube To The Zoo

Date Diaries is a series chronicling the anonymous adventures of those involved in the ever complicated and increasingly unbelievable world of modern dating. To submit your story, fill out the form at the bottom.

This week, Kate, a 25-year-old heterosexual account executive from Bath, shows us how slippery the slope of dating can be…*

When I moved to London, I was told the easiest way to find a date was online. Essentially, set up a profile or be single for a LONG time. But, having never been a fan of dating apps in the past, I wanted to give meeting someone in person or through a friend a go. I wasn’t in any huge rush, so I didn’t feel the need to put pressure on it. Famous last words.

It was bonfire night and my sister Eloise invited me to a party with her boyfriend’s rugby team. She told me there would be free alcohol, lots of fun and a room full of rugby players. In hindsight, that should’ve been my first red flag.

During the party, I met one of the rugby guys at the drinks table - he was chatty, charming and had a great smile. By the end of the night, he had asked for my number and whether I wanted to go on a date with him. Winner.

After the party, we spoke on the phone every day – mostly about this date we were planning. He made a point of telling me he wanted to organise the date himself. He booked us a trip to London Zoo, or so I thought. After telling me about the trip, he sent me a link to the website where I realised, he hadn’t actually bought me a ticket. He’d bought his own and sent me the link to do the same. This was the next red flag. Again, I ignored it.

On the day of the date, I went in nervous but excited. It started well enough - we met at the zoo and he asked lots of questions about my life. He seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me better. After wandering around the zoo, laughing over how cute the pigs were and having a cheeky kiss by the Penguin pool, he asked if I wanted to grab a bite to eat. After my trepidation following ticket-gate, I was surprised at how perfect this date seemed. I should’ve known it could only go downhill from there.

We decided to go to a pub just around the corner and after deciding what to have, he offered to order from the bar. He reached into his pocket to get his wallet and out fell something which changed the entire course of the date.

A bottle of strawberry fucking LUBE. Not even a normal-sized bottle of strawberry lube, a LARGE bottle. Like 500ml worth of lube. An ocean of lube.

More than that, it didn’t just slip out of his pocket inconspicuously, in an awkward almost endearing way that I could pretend I didn’t see – you know, like the makings of a rom com meet cute or a hilarious wedding story. No, the lube fell right into my lap – forcing me to actually pick it up and hand it back to him in horror.

Naturally, my first question was: ‘why would you need lube at the zoo?!’ And because there is simply no normal answer to that question, he pretended he didn’t know what I was talking about and proceeded to head to the bar.

‘Did this actually just happen?’ I thought to myself, hoping to God I’d just blacked out and entered a dream world. But I had to face the obvious, this weird man had bought a huge bottle of strawberry lube to the zoo. He’d had lube in his pocket at the pig pen, I’d brushed up against his lube when we kissed by the penguins, he’d held my hand in one of his and his bottle of lube in the other.

Aghast and trying to rationalize this strange turn of events, my brain flooded with logical questions. ‘Did he have it in his pocket from last night?’ I thought, trying to remember if he’d mentioned a wild night out. ‘Does he have condoms roaming around his pockets too?’ I wondered, questioning what he was truly expecting from a first date at the zoo. But most of all, ‘what kind of absolute weirdo carries lube around with them at 3pm on a sunny weekend afternoon?!’

By the time I had texted everyone I knew with all of these questions and more, he was back with the drinks. The group chat buzzed in my pocket as he slid back into the booth.

‘So, why did you need lube for the zoo?’ I asked again, unable to contain how truly awkward this situation had become. ‘I don't know why I have it, I must have just left it in my pocket,’ he replied. Something about the way he said it just didn’t sit right. So I pressed him, of course, until finally he admitted the truth. His answer did little to calm my buzzing brain – and phone.

‘Honestly, I didn’t know where the date would end,’ he said. ‘English girls are easy, I wanted to be prepared for what could happen.’

Yes, really.

Honestly, all I could do was sit stunned and wonder at what point on this adorable zoo and pub lunch date did he think he was going to lube me up. Was I seconds from being slimed at the penguin enclosure?

Quite horrified with his answer and wanting to end this date quickly, I changed the subject and began to make small talk until our food came – at which point I wolfed it down. From the look of relief on his face, he was quite happy to pretend this never happened.

But as we left the pub,he felt the need to bring it up once more. ‘I’m going to throw it away,’ he told me, before insisting I watch him put it in the bin. I couldn’t believe that one minute I was starry eyed in the pig pen, the next I was watching him throw a bottle of lube in a public bin.

Suffice to say, I had no intention of seeing him again once I got home. He called and text me several times after, but I couldn’t get over lube-gate. I blocked and deleted him, wondering why my first experience of London dating had to be so fucking weird. But hey, at least it could only be up from there.

*names have been changed.

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