Google Guy

So, before I continue with my dating disaster story, I wanted to summarise a little bit about Oscar (Google Guy). So Oscar and I dated for six months, so this post will be spread over two. Now, before anyone feels this will be a “man bashing” as a few people have so eloquently described my blog, I just want to confirm Oscar was a great guy, however, sometimes a great guy isn’t always the right guy and just because someone looks great on paper doesn’t mean they necessarily do the job for you. My time with Oscar definitely showed me that there are nice guys out there, it also taught me you should never pretend to be someone you’re not, as you will find out …

Following a couple of drinks and getting to know one another, Oscar told me that we were booked in for dinner at a nearby restaurant. I have got to admit I was a smidgen impressed with his organisational skills (better than mine). We headed over to catch our reservation. As we walked over, Oscar continued conversation. I nodded where I was supposed to but wasn’t really listening. I was too busy eying him over, he was so well groomed and had a proper umbrella (I don’t know why the umbrella resonated as such a thing, but it did) I was still making observations when I heard through Oscar’s mumbles, the words “keeping track on interest rates”. My brain stopped, I was with a real life grown up; interest rates, dinner reservations a proper umbrella. I was happy my pants and bra matched! I would have to make the effort to be more of a grown up tonight I thought, I’m pretty sure as that thought crossed my mind I stood up to look a little taller (because that makes you more of grown up – promise!)

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We arrived at the restaurant, Oscar and I sat down at the table I glanced around. As any central London restaurant should be at the weekend; it was packed and the atmosphere was lively. The restaurant we visited was Yauatcha , this was my first visit and following the first I would highly recommend to anyone (date location or otherwise).

The dim lighting and buzz of the open kitchen coupled with the smell of delicious Asian food was perfect and I felt immediately hungry.

As the menu came over I asked Oscar if he had been here before; he had multiple times with work, I opened the menu unsure of what to order and if I am honest unsure of what some of the menu meant.

As the waiter came over to take our order, Oscar recommended a few dishes and ordered on our behalf (I again found this grown up behaviour strangely sexy). We continued to talk about trips we had planned for the rest of the year. After chatting for a little while, the dishes of food started to arrive at the table. I was impressed by the starters and by the time the main dishes arrived I was feeling rather full from the food and wine. The waiter placed down the two large dishes and a huge bowl of rice- I immediately regretted my choice of super tight high waisted trousers…

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Between us we managed to finish both dishes and drink more wine, by the time we finished I was no longer feeling sexy in my tight trousers. Oscar grabbed the bill and refused to let me pay. He then suggested heading up to the bar.

As we walked up the stairs to the bar, I felt rather self conscious in my tight trousers; I could barely breathe and felt like a sausage in sausage casing. I tried to breathe in as much as possible and headed up the stairs

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After dinner, we headed over to another central bar and again as per my typical date behaviour, I had one too many cocktails. 

At 1am we fell out of the bar and I thanked Oscar for another lovely date, I pulled out my phone to call an Uber and out of no where quiet, cute, grown up Oscar just unexpectedly threw it out there…

“Why don’t you  just stay over at my place?” 

I’ve had similar propositions in the past at the early stages but I’ve expected it from the said culprits, grown up Oscar had caught me off guard slightly. At this stage I just want to flag I have zero judgement on any woman sleeping with a person on the 1st, 2nd, 5th or 10th date – whatever you want to do, do. As long as you feel good. (For further thoughts on one night stands – please listen out for our upcoming Podcast).

Following my last first date mistake (please see Amazon Tom blog) I wasn’t ready to sleep with Oscar and after eating my own body weight in Asian food; I just wanted to get into bed and induce myself into a food comma. However, as the fresh air hit me; I realised how drunk I was and would probably pass out in the taxi. 

“Thanks for the offer Oscar” I said drunkly “but I’m not sleeping with you” I announced (there was that drunk word vomit again.) He genuinely looked taken aback and insisted that wasn’t what he was suggesting. He offered to get my Uber home, but would escort me as I was a little drunk (he was being polite). I did indeed fall asleep in the cab, turns out that when we arrive at my place, I wouldn’t wake up (it’s up there with some of the more embarrassing things I have done). As such Oscar took me back to his place although I’m pretty sure having his date take off her trousers, get into his bed and fall asleep was not his expectation…

The next morning I woke up early and my head pulsed with pain. Would I ever learn? I turned to see Oscar still asleep, I didn’t want to wake him after what a gent he had been the night before, so decided to stay in bed and hold in the wee I desperately needed. I looked around the bedroom to distract myself.  The were artwork canvases on the wall, matching furniture, shoes neatly lined up along the wardrobe, an alarm clock, the grown up umbrella and the duvet I was lying in was so comfortable (well in comparison to my Ikea’s own). He was a real grown up. Even from our date, I could see Oscar and I were at different stages in our lives, but he seemed like such a nice guy and after the last couple of disasters, it would make a change to hang out with a nice guy. It probably wouldn’t last that long any way…

Five months later and I woke up in Oscars bed (okay so it lasted a little longer than I initially anticipated). As the months had passed, Oscar and I had actually got a along better than expected and he made me feel incredibly comfortable and relaxed, as such I hadn’t fought back as time progressed.

I felt like such a grown up with Oscar; we went to lovely bars and restaurants, walks around the park, visited lovely XXX venues and I had a feeling we would soon be leading up to a weekend away. Oscar had truly confirmed that there were nice guys out there and I was enjoying my time with him … its just … there was still something that wasn’t clicking. As lovely, organised and practical as he was and I could see Oscar caring for me, I could never see myself on his shoulders at a festival, you know?

Initially I had put our differences aside, but as time had developed, our pleasures, expectations and morals around life in general were becoming apparent. Five months down the line, I knew I needed to start thinking about the long term but was happy as it stood …

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While Oscar slept in (something I don’t do) I got out of bed and headed to the kitchen to make coffee, as I stirred my machine filtered grown up coffee my mind wandered. I loved spending time with Oscar but my gut told me we weren’t a match. We had such different passions. We also held different morals; five months in and my friends were itching to meet Oscar, were as he had never breathed a word to me of meeting his friends. The fact that I had never met (or was close to meeting) anyone in his life; a housemate, a colleague, a friend also didn’t help my anxiety, particularly following Matt. I suddenly got an overwhelming on-the-spot panicked feeling and in all of five seconds: my brain had me believe Oscar was married, with two hidden children and a Volvo estate.#truestory (Thanks anxiety, you’re a doll)

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I stirred my coffee and tried to distract my irrational brain. Looking back now; I know a lot of my thoughts were irrational and surprisingly Oscar wasn’t leading a double life but this is the joys of anxiety and as any sufferer will know. It takes a lot to fight irrational thoughts and feelings everyday. To anyone who does deal with any form of mental health – keep going, you’re stronger than any “normal” person who doesn’t have to deal with it everyday. 

Anyway… 

As I had mentioned; there had been a few occasions that made me doubt Oscar and I’s compatibility. Our sense of humours weren’t massively similar, he was a quiet guy (for anyone that know’s me…well… erm… I’m not), he also hated planning ahead in comparison to me who colour codes her calendar (honestly, I promise, I’m not cray). I also found myself filtering what I said around him a lot and I was slowly beginning to realise; I actually wasn’t ever 100% myself around him. 

Following my Friday night with Oscar, I was looking forward to spending the remainder of the weekend with my friends. Mini,I and a few others were heading off for a standard Shoreditch night. After saying good bye to Oscar – I headed over to Mini’s to spend the day prepping for the evening ahead. We all caught up on boy stuff; we talked about Mini’s ongoing work guy situation (4 months later still ongoing); I still didn’t get what was going on with that guy and how on earth he wouldn’t want to date her (but more to come of that later). 

We caught up on Oscar and I; I confided in the girls about my irrational worries and they talked me round (as always); they assured me that Oscar was definitely not married with children. 

“B – don’t worry about things like that, he most definitely isn’t married but I do think it is a bit weird that you haven’t met anyone” I agreed, it was slightly strange. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind before the night out. Like any girls, pre-night out we drunk a bottle (or two) of wine and took a copious amount of selfies. The task of selfies and pre-night out pictures tend to stretch out; one person normally doesn’t like themselves in the pic (normally me), blurry pictures turning out as drunk people can’t hold the phone and the issue of you and your bestie having the same “good side” (the struggle is real). 

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After filling our phones with selfies, we caught an Uber and headed out. I did the standard and added Mini and I’s picture to Instagram and within 5 minutes I heard my phone beep…. It was Tom. I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of weeks. Funny what a selfie does right?

“Looking good in your pictures B – are you out in Shoreditch tonight? Let me know if you are around for a drink.” I messaged Tom back with general conversation. I still really liked Tom as a person; but over the last few months he had drunk called me a couple of times and, I don’t know, but I always got the feeling that he wanted to say a little more than friendship. As such, I had never agreed to meet up. Although maybe it was just me… 

After a brief catch up over message, I put my phone away and we headed out to a few bars. As we settled in a first bar (with the first bottle of wine) we chatted about work and planning holidays, after the first bottle, the chatting then turned into dancing and we decided to head to a club. As we walked over, my phone beeped again, this time it was Oscar. 

“Hey, hope you have a good night – just heading out now – chat tomorrow.” – I messaged back before heading into the club. “You too – did you end up out near your place?” He responded quickly. “No, we ended up out in Shoreditch.” That was exciting; it would be pretty cool if we bumped into one another and nice to actually meet someone he knew. I replied “Same- we are just heading over to Dragon bar, you should pop over for a drink” Blue ticks flashed up, but this time, no response. I put my phone back in my bag, he was probably just at the bar or something. 

We headed into the club, went straight to the bar for shots and danced (a lot). The night was fun; we made friends with a group of girls (with great eyebrows) in the toilet and chatted to a hot group of guys (who proceeded to provide our next – and final bottle of wine). After a fab night, we ordered an Uber and after pulling my phone out of my bag – I was disappointed that Oscar hadn’t messaged me back. Did he not want to meet my friends? Was I overthinking it? I didn’t really know, but what I do know is that I decided that at 2am in an uber on the way to McDonalds that it was the perfect time to broach the subject with Oscar and I did what no person should ever do and sent a drunk text…

After a blurry journey back with Mini and chicken nuggets, I arrived home, polished off my fries and got into bed. As I slowly drifted off I was jolted awake by my phone – Oscar must have replied (to the message I could no longer recollect sending) – I drunkenly reached out for my phone. It wasn’t Oscar…

Tom

“B – I know you are with Mr Google now but I just wanted to tell you how stupid I feel for letting you go. You’re stunning and funny and I was just being a stupid man freaking out. I have my guard up and that is my downfall with stuff as a guy. I just want you to know that’s how I feel and I’m an idiot. If you ever want to catch up properly – let me know” 

I was (a little) shocked. I had a feeling Tom wanted to say something to me but hadn’t really expected the above. I looked at the message and knew Tom hadn’t been out drinking; it would have taken a lot for him to write that and he didn’t deserve a drunken response. Safe to say as much as my brain told me one thing; my drunk fingers began to compose a response. After putting together the message (which I forgot as quickly as typing) I put the phone down and put my head back on the pillow and put the drunk messages to the back of my mind. I could deal with that in the morning… 

My phone beeped – waking me from my drunken slumber. I turned over feeling fuzzy headed (the standard weekend feeling). I picked my phone up and my screen was filled with green notifications from Oscar and Tom. I stared confused at my phone; what was with all the messages. And then it dawned on me…the drunk texts…

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I unlocked my phone, dreading to think what I had written. As I read the messages back, I cringed. What was wrong with drunk me? I made the sensible (and obvious) decision to help deal with the messages…

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I joke! Turns out sometimes drunk messages do hold less than brilliant consequences and sometimes alcohol’s “honesty is the best policy” works….

Thanks for reading 

x

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