So although I have been single since 2010, it’s not like I haven’t had ANY sort of rendezvous with the male species. In September last year I decided I would sign myself up to a popular dating site. I won’t lie, my main reason for using this particular site was because it was free.
You would be forgiven for thinking, that having been internet dating for just over a year, I would have found someone by now. I haven’t. But, I have found the following…
Mr. Vain claimed to be a “natural” body builder. Maybe he was, but I’m not quite sure what was natural about gorging on junk foods for a few weeks, only to starve yourself a couple of weeks later. OK, I get that he was building fat to turn into muscle. But really?! Really??!! Is that how it’s supposed to be done?! That can’t be good for you!
I’m a big fan of food. I’m one of these girls who will get grumpy if you don’t feed them. And apparently he was one of those guys who needed feeding too. I couldn’t put up with his moaning and so that was short lived.
My Mother always told me that you should never discuss religion or politics with friends. So I was quite surprised when Mr. Conservative bought up politics on A FIRST DATE. Mr Conservative was of the opinion that the poor deserved to be poor, that people should help themselves, and that most people on benefits were spongers. No, no, no. Now I understand it’s an emotive subject, but some people genuinely need that extra bit of help. I’m pretty sure he would have been OK with leaving them to rot in the gutter. He looked horrified when I told him I always put my coppers in charity pots and replied with this little gem “you do realise you should save all those and make yourself a lot of money” I see his point, but I’m not really sure saving all my 2ps and 1ps will make a lot of difference.
I’ve always believed we should help people who are weaker than ourselves. I’m aware that there are some people who milk the system, but why should the people who genuinely need help be punished for those few. I’m all for putting my spare pennies in a pot for the children in Africa. I do not need someone telling me I shouldn’t.
Mr. Never Showed Up
The problem with internet dating is you never quite know what you’re getting until it arrives- a bit like internet shopping.
Mr Short was sweet enough, his profile seemed legit and he had registered his height as 6ft. Now, while I do like tall guys, it’s not a requirement. I’m only 5ft 2, so it would be unfair of me to discriminate, but imagine how I felt when he showed up and was the same height as me. I’m not sure if I was upset by his height, or the fact that he had lied about it. To me it kind of felt like he was insulting my intelligence by lying, and it also screamed insecurity. Insecurity and lies are not a turn on for me. We went for coffee. It was nice enough. Afterwards he bombarded me with text asking for another date. It was too much. I can’t always reply straight away, sometimes I’m washing my hair. I told him he was sweet, but I didn’t feel that “spark”
As far as I’m aware he’s still single. He messages me occasionally via the dating site. He has either forgotten he already dated me, or he’s a chancer. I’m not sure which.
Mr. Body Mods
When I messaged Mr Body Mods first, I never thought he would get back to me. You know the type of guy, heavily tattooed, stubble, a bit moody and cool looking. I’m not exactly edgy and so I was quite surprised when I found myself meeting up with him for a coffee. Coffee turned into lunch; lunch turned into drinks; drinks turned into dinner. After an 11 hour date he walked me home and kissed me goodnight. YES!!! I’ve found one. A good one, but oh no. We arranged to meet up again a few days later, but I got a text from him last minute to say he was still at work. A few friends managed to talk sense. He had a busy job, he was effectively saving lives all day. I couldn’t really blame him for the fact that his day was busier than usual. We arranged another day the next week, and the night before I text him again to finalise a meeting place. Oh, he had “forgotten” he was at a gig that night. He’d had tickets for ages, apparently. I’m not proud to say that since he had told me the venue of said gig, I googled it. There was a gig, and I wasn’t too impressed by his choice in music- Funeral For a Friend. I told a close girlfriend, who advised me that I should probably sack him off. No one past the age of 15 listens to Funeral For a Friend. And so I left it at that.
And there we are. Even though there are plenty of fish in the sea, I haven’t quite found the right catch just yet.