The D Word - 32, 34 (August 2020)
He said, ‘you look better than your photos,’ which in
hindsight, I think is sort of a neg.
He also said that he knew he wasn’t a ‘bad-looking guy’ and
had no need to steal other men’s girlfriends because he could easily get his
own. He told me that he only had one plate, one cup, and one set of cutlery
which he would give a daily rinse and then wash properly at the weekend. Is this
disgusting or taking the Kondo Method to dizzying new heights? What does he do
when someone comes over for dinner? It is like that episode of Alan Partridge
where his superfan stalker makes him a cup of tea and serves it in one of those
plastic doohickeys hospitals give men to piss in when they are bed bound?
We got properly drunk on the date, and I slipped over,
spilling most of my drink. To defend myself here, the floor was VERY wet and I
was wearing notoriously slippy-soled Vans.
We have met once more, when we attempted to have dinner on a
Eat Out to Help Out night. We didn’t book anywhere, and every place in town was
packed. He refused to wait in a line for food, so we ended up in a depressingly
empty Walkabout where it cost £6.00 for two burgers with chips and a drink.
I ate my burned veggie bean burger and sipped my flat coke,
and wondered, Carrie Bradshaw style, would this be a funny story we’d tell
at our wedding?
Of course it fucking wouldn’t be. As the evening progressed,
a I heard a lot about D’s life – his pole-dancing ‘ex’-girlfriend, his work
ethic and how easily bored he gets; his lack of culinary skills (2 dishes on a
rotation, cous-cous with butter and pasta with butter) and how a business rival
forced him to close down; his statuesque sister and his embarrassing mother;
that we was going to sell the house he owns in his home country and how he
doesn’t like how small English roads are.
I also leaned that D by name, D by nature. He told me a
story of a Tinder date, where every right-thinking man’s nightmare came
true….his date was fat. Not just fat, but double the size of D. Which
isn’t hard, being as D is the same height as me (5’4) and weighs about half
what I do (9 stone, give or take a big shit here and there) He said that he
almost turned around and walked out when he saw her sitting at the bar, her
well-covered arse spilling over the bar stool. His mates were there (by
accident, not design) and apparently took photos of the ill-matched pair,
pissing themselves laughing, and sending them to all their mates on the group
chat.
D leaned that I do not like vegan cheese, and that I have
been working at the same company for 15 years.
That was over a week ago. I have heard nothing from D, and I
don’t care. In some situations, it’s fine to not bother again. This is one of
them.
33 - Handsome is
as Handsome Does (August 2020)
The train journey there and back took longer than the date.
I am pretty sure he was immediately disappointed when we met, and the lack of
interest showed in the stilted, awkward conversation. He told me that he lived
with his ‘elderly’ landlady, and when I asked how old she was, he responded
with, ’55,’
I texted him when I got home, and he replied said that he
felt ‘no connection’. I responded saying it would be hard to gauge that after
an hour, but essentially agreed with him. Shame, he was VERY handsome, but
maybe so much so he didn’t feel the need to put in much effort.
Either way, I was pleased to be home before dark and in time
for Derren Brown’s equally disappointing 20-year anniversary show.
35, 36, 37 – Babyface (again)
BF was dog-sitting the world’s most disobedient hound, who,
we shall call Fenton. On our Saturday morning walk, Fenton, like his viral
namesake, broke for the border with BF running after him shouting his name and
getting ignored. Fenton then plonked himself under a shady tree where he
refused to move for a good ten minutes, until I gave him all of my water.
I have seen BF twice since then. He has a terrible sense of
direction, doesn’t know who Stephen King is, is addicted to Nando’s peri-peri
sauce (so much so that I think it’s got mentioned each time we’ve met) and is terrible at responding to messages.
An Announcement
I have been back OLD solidly since early March. Lockdown
obviously made it much harder than usual, but as I approach my 42nd
birthday, it seems like a good time to take a bit of a break and reset.
When you’re having little luck at this, it’s very tempting
to feel like there is something wrong with you, or that you hate men, or that
you’re destined to be alone forever. When you find yourself slipping into old patterns of behaviour that don’t serve you in the
long run, and you feel shitty about that, it’s time to take a step back and
reassess things. Your approach to finding a partner, and the relationship with
yourself.
I realise this all sounds terribly wanky, but it feels like
the right thing for me to do at the moment. I’ll still be posting stuff about
dating, but I won’t be using the apps for around a month.
September always feels sort of like a new start for me; it’s
back to school time of year, the season is beginning to change, it’s my
birthday (did I mention that yet?) Writer Marian Keyes called autumn ‘the
season of new boots’. I don’t know how that fits in here - Nancy Sinatra? Made
for walking? I dunno, but I like that idea. I’ll be back soon with some new
boots!
Crushes of the week:
I’ve been a bit of a nostalgia trip recently and started re-watching
ER (all episodes are steaming on All4 at the moment). Even though it started in
1994 (!!) it doesn’t seem to have aged at all. Thus my crush for this week is
the cast of the first season. Noah Wyle is so young and cute he makes my heart hurt a
bit.
