Before the more curious among you wonder if this is a post about a hideous growth deformity, have no fear; I assure you that it isn’t. It is merely social commentary on the unfortunate habit that many of us have experienced of saying the wrong thing in our myriad of social interactions.
As a single man negotiating the pitfalls of London’s dating and bar scene, I have learned that sometimes it’s better to say nothing at all, than feel obliged to say something to cover an uncomfortable silence. It isn’t necessary to chat constantly without pause. Unless perhaps you are a horse racing commentator.
My main ‘partner in pulling’ the ladies (or not) is a mathematician, who by his own admittance spends his days in academic geekdom and is something like an uncaged Tasmanian devil when freed from the formulas, bouncing enthusiastically between girls with the impatience of a speed freak in the toilet queue; frequently to be heard saying: “I’m not getting anywhere, she’s hard to talk to”. After five minutes.
So picture the scene, a mathematician and me, who works in advertising and is working towards being a forensic psychologist when I grow up. Hark, what’s that sound I here? Is it the sound of London’s single ladies collectively uncrossing their legs at the thought of the two of us approaching them? No.
Having established that women are unlikely to whisper sweet algebra as pillow talk, or respond favourably if I ask them if they want to see my flash creative, our efforts at finding lady love could do without being hampered by further obstacles.
Yet my friend has developed a disturbing tendency of jeopardising our chances by spectacularly saying the wrong thing, just when we are in mid-small talk with new
victims suckers prospects. One time we had managed to find two girls who seemed more than happy to spend time in our company. It seemed like we’d both struck lucky. Then my friend leaned across to interrupt the girl I was talking to and said something in her ear, whilst smiling mischievously. Looking perplexed, she said to me: “Is he your friend?” Of course. “Well he just said that you’re a wanker“. Flustered, I managed to make things worse by saying that I keep telling him to lie, but obviously he can’t, ha ha… Poor recovery Stewie.
At a speed dating event, my friend insisted on telling everyone he was a boxer, despite looking less than street tough. Admittedly, I may have mentioned to one girl that I worked with disadvantaged children. But in my defence, I did admit the lie just as our three minutes were up. Well, she was just so desperate to find out my occupation. She deserved it.
Another time, the beautiful mind at my side mentioned to a girl that it was “… unusual for a girl to drink a pint”, a comment that went down like a lead balloon. For a moment I thought that she was going to respond by throwing the beer over him and saying that it was unusual for a man to wear a pint.
But the best example of foot in mouth disease has to be the occasion when we were talking to a friendly girl at a bar, when I noticed my friend making the ‘L’ sign on his forehead whilst laughing at her. Despite being a tad on the drunk side, she looked stunned. Incredulous, I asked him what on Earth he thought he was doing. “Well, she said her name was Elle.” Just don’t make jokes, please. No really… don’t.
On the same evening we were standing at the side of the dancefloor when, somehow, a girl twirled around and the straps of her dress caught on my friend’s hands. She furiously turned to see him apparently pulling her straps without shame. He looked down at his hands, confused at what was happening. I was nearly on the floor, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Only he could have possibly got himself into such an improbable position. “I didn’t mean it, honestly!” I know buddy, I know.
More recently my friend spotted a girl he liked the look of, and went over to chat. A few minutes later he came back, looking dejected. Apparently, the lovely lady looked a lot older from close up and that was all he could think about. Then, in a Tourette’s Syndrome-like outburst, he blurted out: “I like MILFs!” God only knows why he thought that this could ever be an appropriate think to say. “I just couldn’t help it… it just came out”. So it appears.
I will leave you with a thoughtful question to ponder that my friend asked a girl one time: “What’s your dream?” She was undoubtedly dreaming of a place far away from such cheesey chat-up lines. And we wonder why it can he so hard to find a date sometimes…
Hmmmmmmmm – LOL – definitely you need to find a new hunting mate!
He’ll come good one day!
Oh my God this all sounds like so much hard work. Great fun to read!
Well, I do have some success, but it can be hard work sometimes!
Oh dear…He should stop trying and be himself… or is that what he’s like when he IS himself? If so… then he probably needs professional help ^^.
Good post! And thanks for liking me on facebook!
Yes he needs professional help! Just kidding… he’s a great guy but needs to be patient and positive and things will work out. Or I will get enough material for another post. 🙂 No problem about the ‘liking’, hope you reciprocate!
Sure! Of course! You are now the proud owner of two brand new “like”s from my fb page and my fb profile :).
Thanks! It helps to build numbers on FB as people like to be part of a crowd.
Thoroughly enjoyed your misadventures in dating. Another word for foot and mouth disease is diarrhea of the mouth. BTW, I hope that pic was photoshopped …
Diarrhea of the mouth – sounds disgusting! But I thought that was talking too much, rather than saying the wrong thing?
Hi Stewie, Loved reading about your dating disasters!! I have posted a few of my own disasters. You could read some of them and see that it’s not only men who strike out at dating.
I will check out yours and compare the trauma 🙂
lol, your friend sounds amazing. hard to believe a fine catch like that hasn’t been snatched up by the lovely ladies where you live. Clearly, British chicks have higher standards than American chicks. I mean, hell, I’m just trying to find a date who doesn’t pee on me in my sleep, or who doesn’t bow out of a date when his ass explodes (mid date). Yep. It truly is worse on this side of the pond. Those girls are lucky–I mean, sure your buddy insults them, but I’d take an insult over waking up in 4 cups of hot-now-cold-pee. Dating Fail. 😉
Yes, I think you are right, UK girls have too high standards. I hope that your dating experiences improve!
English girls are so picky. Does he have a heartbeat? If so, send him my way. 😉
He is on a plane right now!
I hope he leaves the air hostess’ bra straps alone.
Epic failure. This guy sounds beyond socially inept. Is it nerves, or does he just really not know how to behave normally around women?
I think it´s a combination of several things!
That is so very funny! He actually sounds like a catch:)
That’s what he thinks!
This is somewhere between painful and adorable. Mathematician, you say? I have a thing for Sheldon Cooper-esque characters… 😉
Well, if you’re in London let me know. He’ll be free!
You aren’t the only one. I have trouble talking to people, ANYONE, and I’m not even trying to get a date (relationship-er of 6.5 years over here! *Waves*). I once told someone I could slit his throat to stop him from coughing, and that it was possible to choke a homeless person with a sock. It didn’t go down very well. I spend most of my time inside now, masturbating furiously *nods wisely*.
All of this is true. All. Of. Ittt.
Maybe you should meet my friend!