One winking week of cyber flirting where I flittered from fussy to cyber whore, back to cynic and fussy again, I was finally asked out. Me and Mr Victim Numero Uno, sent two short emails to one another before he popped the question. My virtual matching was about to be dragged into real life when he quickly asked me out for dinner, and I quickly obliged.
There was no rapport between us really, but he had a beautifully poetic prose whose intelligence intrigued me. He was attractive, 6”3, a lawyer, enjoyed traveling and weight training (I would be a terrible liar if I claimed that these words hadn’t manifested into an Adonis marvel in my overactive imagination). I agreed to meet him at a swanky restaurant, he was a lawyer after all, and begun the female process of over-pruning whilst trying to look like I hadn’t pruned at all. Girls, I know you’re with me on this one!
Whilst I ruffled my tail feathers, I felt like I had never felt when getting ready for a date before, and this alien feeling stuck with me all the way through dinner. I was completely relaxed. Worse, I was indifferent. I waited for the wave of nervousness to irrationally effect my decision making (what to wear, hair up, hair down etc), but no. I was surprisingly decisive. I was calm. I had no butterflies. I wasn’t even excited.
I told a friend of my whereabouts, which I firmly believe is vital when you meet anybody for the first time, as morbid as I may be. I walked through the doors of the restaurant and saw a very tall gentleman at the bar, he turned flashing a missing front tooth and I prayed to God it wasn’t him. I scanned the room and saw a relatively handsome man with a cracking physique on the other end of the restaurant. Score! I coolly approached him and went for the handshake.
Anyway handshake over and conversation begins. To be honest, conversation didn’t really flow. We just didn’t click. I did have it in my head to order a glass of wine first, but the waitress did mention a Welsh cider that I hadn’t yet had the pleasure to taste. I ordered a cider as did my date. He seemed to think that I only ordered a cider because he had, which to be honest I thought was an incredible view from a 31 year old man.
As soon as I placed my food order I panicked. This was it, I was committed. For the first time in my dating life I contemplated that a dinner date as a first date, is a pretty brave choice. Conversation was quite challenging at times and it became very clear that we had little in common. Still I tried as I could see that he was a little nervous when he had backhanded the salt and pepper pots for the umpteenth time.
The food arrived and was delicious. If there’s one thing I can talk about, it’s food. I offered him some of my sea bass and was secretly gutted when an offer of trying his Welsh lamb failed to part his lips.
For all my sins I smoke. Match.com have included a smoking specification in their profile requirements, which is a great idea. I would not want to be on a date with somebody that hated smoking, as they would not want to be on a date with me. Still, this nice looking gentleman knew that I smoked but thought it would be best to wait until he met me to let me know that he hated it. However, he decided that he would ignore it, though clearly making it known that it bothered him.
When the plates had been taken away and I had given up on scratching the surfaces of forced conversation, I decided to end the evening feigning an incredibly early start the next morning.
I went outside and further polluted my tarred lungs while he ordered the bill. I always ‘go Dutch’, but today I was slightly out of my depth. I was in his world, which was a world I simply cannot afford. Despite his traditionalism, he obviously believes in the Dutch way of life and asked the waitress to only put half the damage on his card. I stifled an ‘eek’ as I handed over a battered credit card and envisioned the red letter landing on my doormat, probably written by his own legal hand. Serves me right for expecting!!
I believe UB40 said that ‘Fool’s rush in’. I simply did not spend the time to get to know him in cyber space before meeting him down on earth. I have been an alien in cyber communication, I have rushed my first date with little contact, too eager to meet in person and passing the chance to take advantage of the very beauty of online dating. In hindsight, Mr Lawyer and I were never going to work, and if I just let myself continue the cyber contact this would have been apparent and I could have avoided the awkward meet.
Lesson number 1, take your time! And for the next victim……….
How do you know if you’ve blown your chance? If the opportunity to kiss someone comes and you don’t take it will you get another chance?
These are the questions that were running round my head after I met my second date on Match.com. She was a Swansea born girl to Bangladeshi parents. Her favourite film was Arnold Schwarzenegger’s 1985 classic ‘Commando.’ I knew straight away that I had to meet this girl.
We sent many messages to each other, the tell-tale sign is when things are looking good is when the messages you send back and forth to someone get longer and longer. The more we wrote the more we discover commonalities. We discussed Arnie at great length; she wasn’t a girlie girl, but not a fully blown tomboy either. I get the feeling she mixed well with boys and knew how to handle herself around them due to her up bringing of being the only girl surrounded by older brothers. I get the feeling she had only just discovered that she was actually a very attractive girl not ‘just one of the boys.’
After the messages online we moved onto texting. Texting is a very powerful tool in modern dating. You feel more confident in expressing things and saying things you would be too shy to say in person. We sent many texts to each other, flirty ones, teasing ones and just ‘how is your day going?’ ones.
We arranged to meet, we were going for sushi, lately I’ve started to go against the dinner date idea but this felt appropriate as our conversation always revolved around food and she really wanted to try sushi.
We met at half 7 on a Tuesday evening. I was getting butterflies in my stomach. Whenever I get nervous I envy other people, I wish I was the person walking his dog without a care in the world, or my friends who were probably sat at home relaxing watching TV.
The nerves quickly disappeared when we met, she was warm and friendly. She had big brown eyes and a cute smile. We went for drinks first. I suggested we had some cocktails. We both looked at the menu and she was looking for any cocktail that was blue as it was her favourite colour when we couldn’t find one I asked the barmaid to make one up and she did. I was hoping this would earn some good points!
After our cocktails we moved walked to the sushi restaurant. On the way the conversation turned more personal, not chit chat but she revealed deeper things. I thought to myself she must feel comfortable with me if she is telling me this. She was so chatty the meal was very easy and fun, I introduced her to a few dishes and she loved them all. It seemed to work out really well, this sushi restaurant was my favourite and I was in my world.
On a date I’m always trying to assess how things are going, trying to read the signs. I was trying to work out what would happen after the meal? Would she want to go home or shall I suggest drinks. I needn’t have worried; there was no hesitation we both said lets get a drink.
It sounds obvious but when looking for a sign that someone likes you it’s often what they don’t do that gives away more than what they do. She never once mentioned she had to have an early night, she hardly looked at her phone all night, I was keeping her attention.
For any guy who has read the book ‘The Game’ the author Neil Strauss refers to ‘puppy dog eyes.’ This is the look a girl is supposed to give when he knew she was attracted to him and he had made all the right moves. It’s the look that suggests she is under his spell.
I’m pretty sure she was giving me those puppy dog eyes. Along with some pretty frantic hair stroking, we had moved so close whilst chatting that our legs had almost become one, unfortunately I saw all these signs, but I still didn’t make a move.
The next day we continued on with our texting, luckily the fact that I hadn’t made a move hadn’t really harmed my chances with her. We made another date for a few days later. This time we met in the day, it was a crisp, clear day so we decided to go to the park. The second date with her was a lot like the first. We chatted for hours; time seemed to fly by as we shared stories and banter. There was a little gazebo in a secluded area of the park; she suggested we should sit in there for a bit. Ok while you are reading this you must be assuming this is when we kissed. No, I’m afraid this sign slipped past me too. The whole time I sat there thinking I know I should kiss her, I know she wants to kiss but for some reason I just didn’t. The date was lovely but it felt empty, I knew she was getting frustrated and must have come to her own conclusions to why I hadn’t made a move. I thought we were getting on so well that I would have another chance; I’ll make my move ‘next time.’ We tried to arrange another date but each time she cancelled, something had come up. Eventually I got the dreaded text, ‘I’m really sorry, I think we should just be friends.’ Ouch!
After some browsing on Match.com one profile in particular caught my attention. She was an art student with long dark curly hair, and blue eyes. She looked pretty in her photos and could have passed for a young Helena Bonham Carter. She had a really broad list of interests and seemed to have a fun personality. Looking back I’m ashamed to admit that it was her love of Gourmet Burger Kitchen and roast dinners that was the deal breaker.
I sent out a ‘wink’ which I always think is a little bit of a cop out, also slight laziness as you don’t really want to bother writing an email to someone who might not be interested.
Winks in the ‘online dating world’ are also often used by the unscrupulous as an instant ego boost. Some send out mass winks, to people they aren’t even interested in just to see how many send winks back.
I did however receive a wink back from ‘Young Helena,’ as I will refer to her from now on. In my first email I thanked her for my wink and pointed out our mutual love of food. I also latched onto the fact that in her profile she had mentioned that her favourite colour was red/orange. I hinted that these colours gave away a lot about her personality.
Young Helena and I clicked. We sent lots of emails to each other, each time the emails got longer and longer, giving slightly more away each time but maintaining a nice playful/teasing feel. There is always the awkward moment in online dating when you try to work out whether you can ask for a ‘real date’. After a lot of discussion about our favourite foods, she suggested we meet up and go for a pizza sometime.
For some unknown reason, I decided it would be a good idea for our first date to be a trip to a haunted house. I put it to Young Helena and she immediately agreed. She loved the fact that I had taken a risk and come up with a date that was completely different. It was booked. I couldn’t wait!
The idea of going to a haunted house started to make more and more sense. There wouldn’t be the same pressure on the conversation as it can be during a drinks/dinner date and an added bonus was that if she got scared she would be more inclined to hug or want to get closer to me. Barring any unfortunate incidents I could come out of this looking like a brave alpha male!
Date night had arrived. It was a full moon, I wondered if that was ominous, do ghosts appear during a full moon or is it just werewolves. I decided I was going to make some hot chocolate for the date, debating whether this would score me points or look try hard?
I picked Young Helena up from her house, and instantly started talking about what we might encounter that night. It was a 40 minute drive but I flew by. Conversation was flowing and even more common ground was found. I discovered that even though we were essentially fairly different we shared very random traits. I have some OCD’s so did she, I am fairly accident prone and so is she. We tried to out do each other with our tales of misdemeanours.
We arrived at the Haunted Manor with only minutes to spare. Our chatting had meant that I had missed several turnings. I was given the responsibility of holding one of 2 lanterns as the tour was contacted by candle light. I could feel my heart beating faster as the tour started and Young Helena felt butterflies in her tummy, was it the ghosts? Was there love in the air? Or perhaps it was the fact that she was hung-over from the night before. We were told stories of weird goings on in each room we visited. We were told about sightings of strange hooded characters, one room was said to harbour the spirit of a ‘female hating’ man dressed in a robe. A female reporter had made a complaint, on a previous visit, against a member of staff because he had shouted at her and ordered her to get out of the room…however all members of staff were accounted for and when another staff member went up to investigate with her he couldn’t see anyone, despite the fact the reporter was adamant that he was still stood in the corner of the room. I thought if there was one room Young Helena might try to hold onto me, this was it. Luckily the ghost didn’t seem bothered by men so I could be the hero without being in any danger.
Sadly there were no bumps, creeks or ghost sightings, which meant no hugs for me. The tour although uneventful was still a success and something different. We had plenty to chat about on the way home.
As we got closer to her house I started to get the dreaded, should I or shouldn’t I try to kiss her. This conundrum was made more difficult by the fact that I have been growing a beard for charity. Would she mind the prickles? We arrived back at her door and the conversation turned clumsy as we both tried to fill any awkward silence with the first words that came to mind. “Thanks for tonight, it was really good fun” she said. “We should go for that pizza next time” I replied. I could feel the moment was slipping away so I leaned in for a little peck on the lips. She welcomed it. As I turned to walk back to my car I thanked her again for the night. I spent the short drive home trying to work out what she thought of me.
Filling in my profile was a daunting experience. I seem to have this switch inside me that sends my brain into meltdown when I have to fill in forms that don’t have multiple choice answers. On top of this, I have never been good at the sales talk, especially when it comes to selling myself. I thought I hated writing CVs. Now I had to sell myself in a form, on the internet, with a photo and a hope that I may just catch the attention of a male human being that doesn’t have psychotic tendencies. (It is worth noting that I still have the idea etched into my narrow minded brain that everybody on these sites are mentally incapacitated). I felt like I was about to commit social suicide. However match.com did have pointers to help me along with the fearsome task, and they were actually quite helpful.
With my account up and running and the intent that I would improve it at a later date, I cringed at the idea of people I know stumbling across my profile. The thought of familiar pub faces who aren’t close friends knowing I had signed up to a dating site, made me shudder in my slippery boots. I typed in the search, female looking for male no older than 35, with apprehension. The first of my potential victims filtered through before me on the screen. My apprehension quickly waned as I realized that my ignorance was born out of fuddy-duddy prejudice. The men on here actually seemed normal, and some of them were surprisingly quite good looking. As I read through the profiles, and yes there was a man posing with a rose in his mouth, no need for that, I seemed to be receiving ‘winks’ at the top of the page. One of the features of match.com is the ability to cyber wink. It all was beginning to seem a bit strange again but to hell with it, I read the profiles of my fellow singletons and begun some cyber flirting! Yes, through the magic of modern technology, I cyber winked right back at them (of course omitting the profiles that urm, lets say, involved them chowing down on flowers).
Rejection is never great for the old ego, but the way that match is set up rejection can be so slight that the ego is barely affected. No need to roll your eyes as you tell the balding bourbon soaked breath at the bar, ‘no it did not hurt when I fell from heaven, in fact I believe I was probably a little high from my mother’s pain relief smarties, if only I could remember’. And no need to recoil into the corner when you’ve thrown lustful eyes at the smooth operator on the dance floor, just for his 6 foot, waist half the size of my one tankle to snog his face off before your very own droopy eyelids. No, this way guys wink at you and if you like the look of them you wink back. This is the age of cyber flirting. A perfect way for an embarrassing hunger fiend like me to, well, avoid embarrassment. I wink back at the ones I like, ignore the flower feasters, and wait and see to what happens next…………..
The dating world has never been a world I conquered, nor felt comfortable to roam. To be honest, I am more of a Bridget Jones than a Kim Kattrall character when it comes to dating, and I am pushed to remember at least one I have gone on where I haven’t done something embarrassing. In fact I remember one particular first date where a catalogue of embarrassing events seemed to happen in the first five minutes. Just as we sat down in some swanky cocktail bar, I trotted off to the toilets and knowing I was in full view of the poor unsuspecting gentleman that had me on his arm for the evening, decided to wiggle my hips on the catwalk down. This irresistible sexy stroll I was strutting may have been a lot more effective if I didn’t slip after about three steps (that catwalk was a lonely place) and let out a great ‘woooooop’ on the way down. Mortified, I quickly collected myself without turning around (as if he didn’t see) only to hotstep straight into the men’s toilets, still in full view I may add and a skirt riding halfway up my arse. After silently screaming in the toilets, I quickly fixed myself up and plucked up the courage to return to the ever more daunting soiree I had stupidly signed up to. Yes he saw. Of course he saw. We were the only ones in the bloody bar. I drank my first cocktail in record time and when I finally felt like I was recovering from my stupidities, I started to catch a longing look in my company’s eyes. Slightly embarrassed but ever more intrigued and flattered, I coyly looked down. I froze. My shirt button’s had come undone, not discreetly, no. My shirt was wide open, obviously a symptom of my enthusiastic grand gestures I had adopted to seem continental no doubt, and my bra was on display. Was there nothing I could hide. Cool and aloof has never been my forte and my actions in the first instances of this first date had just cemented it.
It is worth noting that when we left I slipped outside and dramatically leaped for his arm to stop my head from making fatal contact with the pavement. I swore never to wear those bloody cheap boots again.
So, being a pariah of the dating craze, I have done the unthinkable. I have signed up to match.com. I have been inexplicably drawn into a world where I have considered myself a leper, a world that I left with dignity trailing behind me in the gutter, and yes I am going back for more.
I am holding my head high and my opinions low, I can’t help it, I’m a cynical Brit. So with a deep breath here it goes, wish me luck.
.
The date by which all subsequent dates will be judged happened a few years ago…
I let temptation get the better of me and had signed up to a fairly notorious site called Adult Friend Finder. You may be able to guess what kind of site it
is. I did the usual guy thing and sent messages to any female between the ages of 18 to 35, no matter what their interests or characters were like. I like to call it ‘the plough method’ of online dating. I felt this was a good method because I would filter the ladies out based on their replies.
It was spring 2007 and I received a reply from an 18 year old from the Pontypridd area of South Wales. She told me that she had only joined the site because she suspected her boyfriend of having a profile on Adult Friend Finder and was concerned he was using it to cheat on her. I must have sent a nice email back to her, which is a rarity on a site like Adult Friend Finder…
A couple of months passed and I had completely forgotten about this girl, as we had only exchanged one or two emails. However I received a message from a petite redheaded girl…I strained to remember who she was and where we had left off. She seemed very sweet and told me that she remembered how nice I had been and wanted to get in touch, obviously having finished with her cheating ex.
Steamy texting…
After a few messages on the site we exchanged mobile numbers and began a 2 week text-a-thon. I dread to think how many messages we sent to each other, she was just the kind of girl every dreams of, very sweet but with a secret side to her. I found this out as I was being a typical gent with my text messages when the last line of one of her texts read ’so…do you have a naughty side?’ from that moment on the messages got steamier and steamier, we would send hundreds of texts describing all sorts of scenarios, she’d text me at various times of the day explaining exactly what she wanted to do to me.
Although this was fantastic, there was also a sense that it only existed on a fantasy level, as we had never met. We had this attraction which was based
on one photo, a flattering one of me at that. We had set a date to meet and I was getting nervous that there had been such a build up; we had formed a bond, gathered so much information about each other and it could all go up in smoke if we couldn’t stand the sight of each other when we met in person. Or would we have anything to say to each other? Had we exhausted every topic of conversation? Also we had become used to saying some pretty sexual things to each other, would we just talk like that in person or was it only possible behind the safety of text messages…
The day finally arrived, I was meeting her at a train station, I was so nervous, it was a hot summer day and I couldn’t stop sweating, which made me more nervous as I thought I’d have the dreaded sweat patches if it carried on like this.
I waited at the train station, looking at people nervously as I had only seen one, fairly poor quality photo of her, not knowing whether the next person who passed me would be her or not. When I finally saw her it was like something from a film, as she walked towards me, the sunlight was shining through a sky light and just lit her up, I don’t know if it was my imagination but it seemed like she was the only one to have this angelic lighting.
Should I kiss her??
She was the sweetest girl and really pretty, maybe not in a conventional way; she had Auburn hair, dark brown eyes, rosy cheeks and a cute beauty spot. We
chatted as if we had known each other for years and every so often we let a bit of text talk slip. In a text she had mentioned a naughty way she liked to eat ice lollies and during the date I made it fairly clear we were going to find an ice cream van!
It was a beautiful day so we sat in the park for hours on the bank of a river, all the signs were there, she kept playing with her hair, finding any excuse
to touch my arm or leg, she even prepped her lips by applying a chap stick. She kept putting back the time she was due to leave; she could have had a sign saying ‘KISS ME YOU IDIOT’ and I wouldn’t have got it.
They say girls think the first kiss is the most important…
As we walked back to the train station we both made small talk, I can’t remember what we talked about because inside my head I was thinking why didn’t I kiss her? How can I kiss her now? Is it too late? We got to the train station and made a bit more small talk, just before she turned to walk through the barriers I went in for what I thought was going to be a peck on the cheek. Somehow our lips met. I think she had had enough and thought well one of us has to make the move! We looked at each other as if to say oh you feel the same?! I told her that I had wanted to do that since the first minute I saw her. I told her not to bother getting the train, I would give her a lift instead; I wasn’t going to let her leave now we had got to the kissing part! We sat in my car for what seemed like hours, kissing passionately. It felt right. Eventually I had to drive her home as she was meeting her mother for a meal and was already very late. Once we had arrived, we kissed again, not being able to separate ourselves. This was the start of a 2 Month whirlwind of a romance, ended by long distance. She was a 2nd year uni student and once the summer holiday was over she returned to university.
In a way the purpose of my online dating journey and of this blog is to have this kind of experience again. There is no feeling out the like it when you just
click with someone. It won’t be easy to find but I’ll have fun looking…