Tag Archives: Romance

“We’ll See”

I wasn’t in the mood for a date. It hadn’t been long since I’d been played but I hurled myself back into online dating; if you don’t get out and mingle, you’re not gonna have the White Knight turn up on your doorstep with a cheeky grin and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s.

I was running late so I text him. It was time to meet and I hadn’t even left yet. Sometimes I find it difficult to drag myelf out the door when I’m in a mood like I was in that day. I didn’t want to play act and present the Good, Clean Version of the Truth as you have to on first dates, what I wanted was PJs, shitty Channel 5 documentaries and alone time to recoup.

Bless him, my date arrived early and I wasn’t even ready. I decided to go for sexy-casual, a cute, bold colourful printed, extremely short shirt-dress I bought from a vintage market and a pair of hotpants to cover my dignity. It seemed appropriate for a lunch/beach date in the height of Summer. I slapped on a little eye make-up and headed out the door.

I saw him waiting outside the cafe we arranged to meet as I drove past and I felt a pang of guilt. 15 minutes late and I still had to find a place to park and walk around to meet him. He waited though, which showed me he was really interested. I thought it was a little odd that he didn’t find a table and get started on a cuppa while he was waiting, but it seemed respectful that he chose to wait outside.

I parked up and as I rounded the corner to the cafe, I got a closer look at him before he saw me. I like to see people behaving naturally; he was leant against the wall smoking. Self assured and bored, can’t really blame him! I’d kept him waiting 20 minutes now.

I saw his first glimpse of me, and I loved his reaction. His bright blue eyes flashed wide and his jaw practically fell open as he immediately flung his cigarette. He gave me a big smile and greeted me with warmth and palpable nerves.

I was pretty calm. I liked the guy from chatting on Plenty of Fish and our few text conversations, we had a lot in common and he held a conversation well on those platforms, but I’ve done online dating before. I wasn’t expecting much. He was a strange mix of confidence and nerves, it was sweet and strangely comforting.

We had good conversation, bloody unusual conversation but I have to admit unusual is my forte, and I didn’t feel I had to ‘perform’ as much as I’ve had to previously. Few awkward silences plagued our lunch and we made each other laugh, so I thought it would be good to carry on to the next loosely planned stage, to the beach.

He didn’t exactly have on beach attire, trainers and jeans, but it gave us something to giggle about. We carried on chatting bullshit and nonsense and he complemented my legs just enough to let me know he was interested but managed to avoid being creepy.

I had an excuse to cut the date short lined up, a nice endorphin blast at the gym, but instead I let him buy me ice cream from his favourite parlour and we carried on with our banter; I was feeling comfortable and enjoying his company. I let a few entendres drop and revelled in watching my gentleman date blush and fluster.

I had planned on staying an hour or two, but after 4 hours he walked me back to my car and we parted with a hug. I wasn’t sure how I felt, I liked the guy, he had a lot of attributes I was looking for; funny, confident, outgoing, cute and interested enough to be adorably nervous…most of all I was surprised just how comfortable I was with him. I wasn’t drained or disheartened, tired or emotionally shrivelled. I didn’t need the gym induced endorphin high as I anticipated I would, I left the date feeling happy, open and positive.

When I was asked how it went by my family, I hedged;

He was nice…we’ll see.

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23 is NOT the Magic Number

When I first started the whole internet dating malarkey this time around, I thought ‘I might be a little closer to 30 than 20 these days, but fuck it, I can still hang with young ‘uns‘.

Staunchly ignoring the fact that I call 20-25 year olds ‘young ‘uns’ in my mental dialogue, I truly believed that to be the case.

Wrong.

So very, alarmingly wrong.

My first date was with a whippsersnapper of 23. He was gainfully employed, had a degree, we had a good banter over t’internet so I had no reservations meeting up with him for a date.

To be fair, it wasn’t exactly a horror story. At first anyway…the real horror here is suddenly realising, fuck. I’ve gotten old. How the fuck did that happen? When the fuck did that happen?! I was truly and utterly convinced my mental age was 23 and here, on this date, the catatonic coma inducing realisation that actually, no, I do not have the mental age of a 23 year old.

Thankfully, apparently I still look like a 23 year old….sometimes. I thank the people who ID me for fags these days. (It’s dawned on me that is NOT how a 23 year old behaves when being IDed. Next time I might pretend I’ve left my driving license at home and skulk off with an exasperated Kevin-like flair. I hope there’s a next time anyway…)

The kid was nice enough I suppose, but he was a puppy. Overly enthusiastic, pawing for reassurance and basically just trying to impress too much.

I’m not the most confident of people, but as I’ve apparently matured (sob!), I’ve grown into myself. I pretty much know who I am, know what I like and know that I definitely can’t be arsed wasting time with people who I don’t like or who don’t like me so I’m pretty much myself, or at least a Good, Clean Version thereof. I don’t consciously set out to impress, and honestly, I think that’s an attractive quality. It’s a quality I like to see in the men I date at any rate.

I wasn’t entirely put off though. Apparently I’m quite a hit with the young lads, especially 23 year olds (about 4 different 23 year olds contacted me! Get me and my fiiiiine self!) so I thought it would be best to just make sure the younger option was not entirely full of puppies.

The second one appeared more mature on the surface but there were some glaring indicators of inexperience. We met for ‘coffee’, not particularly wanting to be stuck on a night out with another immature youngster. When I bought my own drink, and the chocolate brownie we shared (no offer to even split the cost of the brownie), conversation was incredibly stunted. I had to work my arse off to try and find something he would talk about. He asked no questions leaving the conversation ball entirely in my court. Sigh. I left after an hour, but the level of conversation we did have was ‘mature’ and somewhat intellectual…by my gauge anyway, probably not by the majority of others’, ha!

After our date I was considering going on another date with the guy, until…well, until he started clumsily and overtly flirting with me, before I even confirmed I wanted to see him again. Honestly, it felt a bit uncomfortable – I don’t remember exactly what was said, but it started off with nice compliments which I appreciated but essentially brushed off, and they became more and more sexual without indication that I would be interested in anything of the sort.

I gave up on that guy and added Rule 6 to My Internet Dating Survival Guide: Don’t date boys under 25 years old. They don’t have a clue how to handle me.

Date ALL the Boys!

Some people do it one at a time, others need a little more variety. I need a little more variety.

There’s a vast array of potentially suitable men out there for us ladies, so why not go a little crazy and date them all at once?

A few people might disagree with the idea of dating as I see it. I like the idea of American style dating where you might line up dates for the Thursday, the Friday and the Saturday taking the Sunday as a day of serious R&R – pyjamas, trashy films and chocolate binges, obviously.

Other women might be a little more conservative, getting to know one guy at a time, arranging a date, having the date and all of the gumph that follows…debating whether he liked her or not, waiting the ‘traditional’ two days before following up in an effort to not seem too needy (if you feel the woman should even contact the man at all), arranging another date and waiting for that…if he even wants to. If she even wants to…all of this is assuming the woman actually liked the guy. It could be she met him, there was no connection and she couldn’t care less if he called her again or not.

For me, all this is far too time consuming. I don’t want to spend weeks arranging first, second and third dates with a guy who turns out to be someone I can’t see myself being with for the long haul, and having all that time wasted. If you put all your eggs in one dating basket, you might put more pressure on yourself to like the guy and force a match with a guy that isn’t right for you. I’m no ugly stepsister, the glass slipper has to fit!

At one time I dated 3 guys. It wasn’t as complicated as you might expect and it gave me the added bonus of not feeling too bad about rejection, whether I liked the guy or not. I managed to meet more men, mostly unsuitable, so I shrugged and moved on to the next date a few days later. I wasn’t hanging around by the telephone waiting for the kindof alright guy I had a date with a week ago to call, I was too busy checking out the next guy who could possibly be a superior dating candidate than the previous, only kindof alright guy. This helped me to keep the pressure off myself and off the guy. It also helped to build that apparently charming aloofness that men seem to find captivating.

It’s fun and I don’t really have any qualms about it, especially with online dating. You can chat online and get on like a house on fire, but in the real world it could be about as enthralling as waiting for your freshly painted nails to dry and be just as frustrating after a week or two of getting to know the guy online.

I do have to think though, is there a double standard when it comes to dating multiple people between men and women? I’d like to think if a guy told me he was dating other women as well as me I wouldn’t think too much of it. But when it comes to finding relationships, particularly when meeting people online, I think perhaps men have to be a little more careful; the majority of men may well end up coming off like players, out for everything they could get. After all, spring for a couple of drinks and behave like a gentleman on the first date…sometimes that’s all it takes.

As much as I like to think otherwise, I think I would be a little more careful dating men who are dating other women as well. I would be a little more careful about showing my own hand, be more reserved about making an attachment and much more conservative when it comes to taking the next step. Especially if he hadn’t agreed to exclusivity beforehand.

It’s an interesting quandry. I’d like to hear a few more perspectives on the potential double standards for men and women in American style dating, feel free to add your opinions in the comments!

Hey! Fancy a Fuck?

I don’t know if I’m surprised or not. I mean, dating sites are easy ways to hook up aren’t they? But does any girl ever actually put out because a guy showed the slightest bit of interest and said ‘Hey’.

They always seem really surprised when I don’t literally fall to my knees, thankful for the attention and go get it on with a stranger that has literally said 5 words to me before insinuating a hook up, one would assume in the privacy of one of our homes, or perhaps they were thinking somewhere classy like a car park in the back of their old style corsa?

You meet a guy on the internet, a place where we all know is full of the insane, some in a nice way, some slightly more psychotic, many just plainly awkward, oblivious and/or slightly fucked up (raises hand). You barely exchange pleasantries let alone anything else, and invite them over to your place for a bit of action?

There was an article in the local papers recently about an ex-nurse who attempted to meet a girl off the internet. Fine, great, no big deal. He was intending to cannibalise her. He told her so, apparently. Strange she never showed, but the police did…

So, I’m more confident now than I ever have been I know my worth, it takes a little more than ‘Hey (babe/gorgeous/sexy..etc)’ to get me to throw caution out the window and drop my pants. Not much more, admittedly, we’ve all made drunken mistakes. But usually it takes attraction, rapport, humour, feeling safe/comfortable and/or a shitload of alcohol. ‘Hey babe’ just doesn’t really cut it, and I can’t see it ever will (but, never say never, right?).

There was one guy who I would normally have veered away from. Copied and pasted witty one liner opening – I figured he put in a little effort at least. After a couple of messages of witty banter and an explanation from him that he just wanted a bit of fun (meh, at least he was honest), he proceeded to send me pictures of his junk. Then ridiculed me when I refused to send photos of mine. Apparently that makes me ‘no fun’ and ‘boring’. Insults are always the best way to win a girl over apparently.

Being a fan of lectures these days, I gave him the honour of an education. Had this worked well for him before? No? Shocker. Here’s why not. I’m not just a vagina, fuckwit! His answer was ‘But I just wanted a bit of fun!’. Great, me too! Except I prefer to be viewed as a human being with a personality rather than literally a hole that’s a goal. Bless him *rolls eyes* He was educated in grammar school too. My grammar school. Standards have clearly slipped.