Soooo I thought I’d stay faithful to the blog title
and write about ….guess what?
Oh yes…this year? As ever I remain single.
Last year I had a disastrous couple of dates with somebody
who turned out to be married, early this year I had ONE long ass date with
somebody who apparently never grew balls and didn’t know why he turned
out to be an utter asshole, so I have decided to go on a strike until
conditions improve.
Comes another misguided attempt at setting me up this year; the
guy called, he was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear a couple of
times, but he kept getting louder, I had to check the sound setting on my
phone!
As well as being loud, he was also obnoxious, the type of guy I would definitely
slap at some point during the date and pretend there was a fly on his face
because I am sure he’s the type who’d hit back.
He alluded and not very subtly to the masses of disposable cash he has access to, he enquired if I had ever been to Ibiza because everyone knows that’s the ultimate reference in terms of travel, he asked how many languages I spoke on top of the obvious Arabic, French and English, evidently when you’re Algerian you need to speak a fourth language to impress as three is just the norm. How dull!
Hang on, there’s someone at the door, will go see who
it is, but I am coming back to finish this rant. Hmm I could see a lady who looks
like a Jehovah’s whiteness…”I am already on the path of the righteous
and Jesus rocks, your work here is done” I look again, the lady shakes
her head and heads to the my next-door neighbour.
Back to the Schizo dude;
He took a great deal of effort to shout something at the
waiter in bad Italian, trying to impress me, so to answer his question I said:
well I do speak Italian fluently :) yes yes I smiled, I am sure he could feel my
smile. This was beginning to be fun...
He also said his name was something then left a
voicemail with a different name! Alarm bells stopped ringing, there was no
point, I was only continuing with this charade for my own amusement.
He insisted, he just wanted to see what I looked like
(shallow anyone?), then insisted I travelled all the way across London to meet him
for a drink, but it’s ok, because I could bring a friend if I wanted to!!!
When I suggested we meet half way, he got louder if that
was at all possible and cancelled on me. How could I suggest to a Chelsea man to venture out
of his manor! Anything beyond Knightsbridge was considered a foreign land. Oh this
is getting more fun…
It’s always fun to listen to the assumptions and
pre-judgments people make about you before even meeting you, based on my being home at 10pm on a weeknight, apparently I am no
fun, he said and I quote “home on a Thursday night? You’re an old
woman! Man”, he then told me off for being a bore because I was asleep when
he called me at half past midnight one Sunday night.
Then I really had to ask, “How young are you exactly”
and he proudly announced he was 50. So I rest my case and hang up the phone.
That’s when I thought, ah what a girl has got to put
up with in the name of blogging.
But you all know dating has become a new national sport
after Football and Cricket, all of which can be action packed though a little
dubious about cricket which can be a dangerous sport, yes yes you can die of
boredom.
Dating however, is most definitely action packed, well the
last time I remember anyway, you never really know who you’re going out
with, looks, profiles and pseudos can be very misleading unless you’ve
been introduced by a friend of a family member, be assured you will have a few
surprises, not to say that your family and friend’s introductions are
without concern.
I had to do some research with friends who are actively dating and reporting their horror stories.
Kate in the 70s
Kate met a guy ironically on Anti-valentines day*; she met
Mark, he texted the next day and asked her out – happy days!
Kate and Mark went out on a date, she wore her lovely red
dress and she looked stunning, he came in a pair of trouser she couldn’t
make out if they were flares or bell bottoms, she looked around to check she
was not in an 70s theme bar, sadly she was not.
Mark bought her the first drink and they clunked glasses,
so far so good, then as his pint glass touches her delicate diet coke he looks
her in the eyes and says: Chin Chin Moverfucker” jaws drop –
silence – excuse me? So then he says “you’re supposed to say
Chin moverfucker chin”
She bares and grins and wishes she could have her time
back.
Monique and the neon lights!
Monique is on all dating sites known to men, including
Alien lovers and loveisforsissies.com, she gets snapped up quickly because her
profile picture is from her 20s and she wasn’t jowly then. He wore a sleeveless
t-shirt, had a smile that showed way too much of his gums and had about three
chins. He took her to a ghastly bar in Leicester square where it smelt of cheap
cologne and old carpets, she excused herself to use the ladies, on the way down
she saw the shiny EXIT sign…it was warm, yellow, glowing and inviting….so
she buggered off.
Nicola and the Urinals:
Nicola vouched it would be her last date, it had to work,
she couldn’t go through the whole thing again, the butterflies, the hair,
the preparation, the outfit, the waiting, the anxiety, she vouched to make it
work whatever happens even if he wasn’t into her, she’s gonna make
him – God help him.
He must have forgotten to brush his teeth, she could see
bit of broccoli, mental note! Not kissing this one, unless he manages to
swallow the broccoli with his pint!
Nicola goes to the ladies, the toilet sign was too hard to
decipher and she ended up in the gents, faced with a man at the urinal, she
gasped, he turned around and chirpily says “alriiight?” she
apologised and ran off to the ladies room giggling like a teenager, when it was
his turn she advised him the Gents was on the right hand side, he came back
saying “you either don’t know right from left like every other
women I know or you’ve done it on purpose, I just got chased out by a
bunch of angry pussy posse” RIGHT she says and storms out of the door, on
the way out she screams: “Oh and you can’t finish my beer, I spat
in it”
Nobody is normal anymore. They’re all crazy.
The strike continues…in the meantime; feel free to
share your horror dating stories…
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* a day celebrated by people not in love or pretending to
be, basically
