- I know how you feel, little guy
Don’t worry, this isn’t one of those Oedipus Complexes that would make Sigmund Freud turn in his grave, twiddling his moustache quizically. It is the tale of another dating woe, from when I had recently moved to London.
There I was, a single man salivating at the thought of what seemed like an endless line of available women, all just a Tube ride away. The world, it seemed, was my oyster. I just had to search amongst the sea of opportunity and grab a shining pearl, whilst obviously avoiding the perils of any non-jewellery producing molluscs, if you catch my drift. But enough of the analogies…
Not knowing where to start, I signed up to Match.com and started the whole ‘getting to know you’ process with London’s finest. With little success. What was wrong with these career girls? Maybe they didn’t actually believe that I was a millionaire playboy with a very big house in the country, his own horse and an interest in polo. It wasn’t too big a lie, I thought. Well, I did sometimes eat mint flavoured polos. Continue reading
You don't have to look quite
so surprised to see me
So, with a successful blog which is growing in popularity, was it inevitable that one fan would take things too far? ‘Man of the people’, ‘Studmuffin’ and ‘Leader of men’… these are just some of the descriptions that have never been used to describe me. So it was just a tad surprising to find myself the subject of one misguided bunny boiler’s attentions.
She wasn’t aware of this site; we had ‘met’ when I was new to London and had joined City Socialising, a social network for
social misfits who no-one likes people who are looking to widen their circle of friends. She sent me a couple of messages which, although jangling my internal alarm bells, I replied to out of courtesy. I say courtesy, but her name was Ho, and I wasn’t sure if that was really her name or if it was actually a nickname based on her sexual promiscuity. So in reality, Little Stewie was doing the thinking, thereby overruling the more cautious thoughts that I should have paid more attention to. Continue reading
Another day, another date and it all seemed to be going very well. But in life’s myriad of social interactions there are some questions that you just don’t ask. Just like demanding to know who has farted in the lift, or seeing an ugly baby and asking if it’s a boy or a girl, you shouldn’t go on a date and ask someone why he or she is single. Why not just shout “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?”, slap me across the face and call me a freak whilst you’re at it, to really make me feel all snugly inside?
And anyway, it takes two to tango, as they say. So, after replying that my date should “… ask the women of London” to find out the answer, I batted the same question straight back at her. Continue reading
No, not her, she was busy
It had all started off so well. I met an old friend for drinks on a Friday evening and we had noticed a couple of nice girls chatting in the corner and struck up a conversation. Despite the fact that they had arranged to meet a couple of blokes, we soon skillfully prised away the ladies from their clutches. Well, they kept going outside for cigarettes, so it was their own fault…
So there I was getting on fabulously with the taller girl (as if I have to take the taller one); life couldn’t get any better than this! She told me that she was an actress. Of course, she was a little known actress, not as stunning as Angelina Droolie or Halle Boobly (who is?), but still desirable in my (drunken) eyes. She was currently ‘starring’ in a Bodyform tampax ad apparently, although surprisingly, wasn’t roller skating through a park or abseiling down a cliff face in the commercial. Continue reading
Having been to a few speed dating ‘events’ of various descriptions, I vowed to never waste my time in such a way again! But a friend recently persuaded me to attend a singles night/speed dating evening and offered to buy me drinks – done deal! After all, how bad could it be? The evening required prior online registration which seemed innocuous enough, but some muppet had decided to give out name tags with our chosen registration pseudonym, rather than our actual first names! Luckily I was just StewieJT (not ideal, but not embarrassing either), but as soon as I arrived I noticed a guy that I’d met a few months previously, and would rather avoid. Unfortunately, my attempts at avoiding eye contact were futile, as he strode over and shook my hand like a long-lost friend. His name tag read ‘Love Doctor’… Damn it, I can’t be seen with him, I thought. Continue reading
So, you’ve finally managed to bag a date with that hot girl from accounts. Grr, you tiger! You want to show her that you’re a true gent, but with a bit of an edge – no-one likes a sap. But what about the awkward meet and greet kiss on the cheek? How many kisses is it these days? You don’t want to accidentally headbutt her by going for the wrong number! Tip: if British, go for the quick one and out. If foreign, count the number of syllables in her country’s name and replicate that with the number of kisses on her cheeks. Holland? Two. Italy? Three. Easy! Avoid going on a date with a girl from the Democratic Republic of Congo. She will feel like she’s on a date with Woody Woodpecker.
If she is foreign, don’t feign interest in her, pretending that you know what she’s talking about, to try and impress her. If she says she’s from Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, don’t ask her how many girls she sung with in the Grenadines and how many hit singles they had. Continue reading
At long last! That handsome bloke that you’ve had you eye on has finally asked you out. How many more hints could he have possibly missed?! So, you go straight home from work to ‘prepare’ for that ‘Tricky First Date’. You want to make this work as you deserve it. You think you stand out from the competition. Why? Two words… de-sire.
But what to wear? Hmm, better empty the entire contents of your wardrobe and try everything on, just in case something looks different on you now to how it did the last time you wore it. You never know; it’s been a while since you popped down the gym. Whilst you’re at it, why not open a bottle of wine to relax you… Leggings? Comfortable but too casual. That slinky black mini-dress? Maybe for the second date. Just go for those tight jeans and top that you bought from Primark. He’ll never know that you only paid £1.99 for it as it looks good quality – Indian children’s hands are so adept at sowing. Continue reading