Joey the Joker

So, before I continue with my disastrous dating diaries, thanks for coming back to read more (it means the world). For anyone new to this blog, you might want to skip back a few steps and catch up!

Any whooooo, before I tell you about the end of Joey and I, let’s give you a bit of context around him.

So Joey, is a mistake I made once, twice … okay maybe Ive made the mistake few times (don’t judge! It’s that curly hair). We dated for a couple of months and it was one of the first “sparks” I felt when I moved to London. (And there hasn’t been many, trust me). 

Hope you enjoy the ending ….

A couple of months had passed of Joey and I dating and we had been having so much fun. We talked about pretty much everything and I was constantly laughing when I was around him. He was super cheeky and if I’m honest a bit of a gobby sod (for my American friends reading – love that you are by the way – gobby sod means a bit of a mouth piece), which to be fair, matched us up pretty well.

I clearly remember a time, we were play fighting around drunk outside a pub and some guys asked “if I was okay” (they were being pretty moronic to be fair, my safety was clearly not at risk). “She’s fine mate” he shouted back “And not interested”. (Gobby get, see!). As well as being a cheeky so and so, Joey would also be super sweet. I once pulled a muscle in my back training and he turned up at the tube station to collect me and carry my bags. He then took me home, with lots of painkillers and ibuprofen gel and made me dinner (we both ended up accidentally overdosing on the gel and being quite poorly, which looking back was pretty hilarious). I was super smitten by Joey. When we were together, I think I pretty much followed him round like this..

princess love.gif

(Eye roll emoji at naive me back then).

We had also got past the “third date” stage and if I’m honest hadn’t really stopped “third dating” since that point. In contrast to Oscar, Joey and I’s “third-dating” was never really passionless, in fact, quite the opposite. It was exactly the “rip your clothes off/sparky” third date kind of stuff you were looking for. The energy and passion was amazing initially but as time was passing (and please don’t judge me), I wasn’t keeping up with the energy levels (lol). In fact it would get to the end of a weekend and I would be like…


As much as I loved the “third dating” with Joey, you know the feeling ladies. I also love going on the  at Alton Tower once when I’m there, six times a day though….

Will f.gif

Not so much.

Anywhooo, I had spent a couple of months following Joey round like a loved up pup and things were starting to get a little more serious. Joey met my friend-friends, my work-friends (all of who loved him). I also met his friends and I when he told me that his Mum knew about me, I couldn’t help but do this…


One night after a another lovely date, Joey and I walked back to his place hand in hand. After telling me his Mum knew about me, I was excited to tell him my Mum was visiting the weekend at the weekend.

“You should join us for a drink” I said excitedly.

And then ladies, came the first red flag (a little one but none the less a flag) Which at the time, I didn’t realise.

“Erm, B, isn’t that a bit serious?” he replied.


Hadn’t you asked me to meet your friends and met them? And told your Mum about me? And now I was being serious…


Feeling hurt, I wiggled my hand free from his. Well, that was really confusing, for someone who had blown hotter than my broken Remington hairdryer, his response was very cold. We walked back to his place, it wasn’t a big deal, but it was the first “chink” in Joey’s so far perfect armour that I had seen.

Unfortunately, as time continued and things became more serious, the chinks became more apparent. Joey’s immaturity showed more often and, me being me, would call him out on the baby like behaviour.

Things finally came to a head (not the fun kind), one Saturday night.

Now just to give a little context, what happened next was completely unexpected to me. When I mentioned “chinks” in Joey’s armour, they were indeed just chinks (tiny little problems) that could have been resolved, if you wanted them to be, hence my sheer confusion at the next part of the story…

It was a Saturday night and I was still hanging round in my flat. I picked up my phone and checked the time, I hadn’t heard from Joey and we were supposed to be heading for food at 7.30pm. I glanced at the screen, 7.50, well, we had missed the reservation. I knew Joey had been out until the early hours of the morning (early hours being drunk messages at 7am) and expected this may be the reason he was super late. A knock at the door, jolted me out of my day dream. I rushed to the door (with this face)


I was greeted by (a hungover looking) Joey. He was draped in the usual leather jacket, skinny jeans, hat and long hair, urgh, it was annoying, I struggled to be mad when he was so hot.

“Sorry B” he said sheepishly. “Are you okay?”

“Fine” I responded. He smiled and continued chatting. Was that it? Could he not see I was mad. Any sane man knows that when a woman responds with “fine” she is clearly not fine. As Joey continued to chat, I gave up, although I was still upset, I wanted to have a nice night and certainly didn’t want to argue.

We headed down to a local burger bar and ordered food. Joey and I always alternated “who paid” on our dates (pod cast to come on date etiquette, who pays is a hot subject! ;)) and tonight was my night. As the delicious burgers were placed down, I basically inhaled mine. Joey on the other hand, pushed the fries and burger around his place until the waiter finally removed our plates, he looked at me in the same sheepish manner as earlier. The cheque was placed down in front of us and I footed the bill for the food Joey hadn’t eaten.

Okay, so as any girl would be, I was a little pissed by this point. Joey had a lot of cake buying and sucking up cuddles to do as I was ready to be quite the grumpy girlfriend.

As we walked back to my place, I stomped a little ahead. When we arrived back, Joey again asked the same question “Are you okay?” This time, I told him that I wasn’t and was being the grumpy girlfriend and obviously told him off. Expecting a “sorry” and a “forgive me” cuddle. I sat down next to him and that’s when he came out with it….

“I can’t do this B”

confused britney.gif

Couldn’t do what? Now I was confused…

“I just can’t do this B, the commitment, this is getting serious”

What? I wasn’t sure at what stage I had got down on one knee and now I was seriously confused. He continued…

“This B, I know it’s going somewhere and I can’t cope. This has happened before, with other girls and it’s happening again and I just can’t handle the commitment”

(note the bold ladies).

I had to literally pick my jaw up off the floor. Where had this come from? It was like a complete 180 in a night. Sure, I had noticed he was a little cagey about certain things, but I had always brushed it off as he was so lovely…. it now made more sense.

Joey continued to go into detail about how this had happened before and why (I won’t go into it as some things are for sure private). I was still completely in shock as he talked. This was the guy I had laughed and joked and danced like an idiot in a bar with the weekend before and he had just come out with all of that….

what just happened.gif

I stared into space, a little dumbfounded as he continued.

“I’m going to go” he said “I can’t do this”. I tried to respond, but there was nothing that could really be said.

Joey walked out and the door closed behind him.


At the time, I literally couldn’t believe it.

Turns out ladies, this is a thing men struggle with a lot!

I have to admit, at the time, I was for sure sad for a little while but as it hadn’t been too long. I busied myself; drinks with the girls, gym and lots of good food and recovered from the roller coast ride with Joey pretty quickly.

And it was just in that moment of feeling better ladies, that these boys do what they do best….


I mean, you can’t blame me, who isn’t a sucker for a cute curly haired commitment phobe…

Unfortunately ladies, that is when I indeed found out Joey wasn’t quite as nice as he seemed.

Thanks again for reading






Podcast 3: Dating Apps?

Happy hump day readers (no pun intended). If you are back again, thanks for listening to our third Pod Cast. We did have a podcast on “Numbers” but it was wiped by my Mac (thanks Apple!). Soooo, instead, today’s podcast is based around a tool that most of us seem to equip ourselves with in this modern dating world – Applications! We discuss if they are a help or a hinderance, creative or creepy, our experiences and what we would suggest!

Just to give you a giggle, I wanted to share one of my more recent interactive experience a dating app to “set the tone” for the rest of the cast…

IMG_5821 (1)

Yeah, I’m for sure the C*nt…

Lord have mercy on us singletons…

Enjoy! x


Sam the Surgeon

Hi guys! Thanks for coming back to hear more about my disastrous dating life. For anyone who is here for the first time, you might want to skip back a chapter to hear the start of the story with Joey. In this post, I briefly touch on my short time with the super surgeon and how I ended up wearing the worst outfit known to man kind (not dramatic) to a date. I also tell you more about Joey and I’s whirlwind romance as it comes to a “sex toy filled” crash down ending (trust me, it is not as it sounds)…

A few days after my first date with Joey and the excited feeling still hadn’t worn off. We were still texting pretty much every minute of everyday and we had already arranged to see one another the following weekend. The week at work was again flying by and for some reason my work load seemed to have increased two fold (I think this may have been down to the fact I had spent the majority of the previous week on what’s app, but let’s breeze over that).

The weekdays went by and were like a ground hog of emails, gym, food and sleep. When Thursday finally came round and I left the office, I was ready to pass out on the central line. (Note. do not fall asleep on the central line, unless you would like to wake up without your belongings). As I squeezed onto the packed tube, my phone buzzed.


Oh shit… I had forgot to cancel my date with the surgeon.

“Hey B. So I have booked a restaurant for tonight. Looking forward to seeing you at 8pm”

Shitty shit fuck fuck. I couldn’t cancel now, it was far too late in the day. I checked the time, after pulling a late one it was already 7pm. I tried to calculate the time the journey back to my place would take, the journey back out to the restaurant and how much time that would leave me to get date ready. The answer…

Not an awful lot!

By the time I had rushed back, I basically had no time on the clock to even re-apply my make up, it was raining outside so I quickly brushed through my humidity ridden curls. I messaged Sam quickly.

“Where are we heading” I asked

“Hakkasan” he replied.

Now, for anyone who knows London well, Hakkasan isn’t an understated place. I looked down at my work attire and realised that not only did I have frizzy hair and very little make up – I was majorly under dressed for a Michelin star restauraunt, with no time to fix it. I quickly ordered a trusty Uber and searched my wardrobe for something to “fancy” up my outfit. As I realised my Toyota Prius was only minutes away, in a panic, I pulled out a long jacket with a fur collar (you heard me, fur collar, I don’t know what I was thinking either) and jumped into the taxi where I re-applied my make-up in near darkness.

When I finally arrived at the restaurant, I was extremely impressed with my timing skills and the fact I had managed to compose myself. I stepped out of the Uber, feeling rather pleased. See, it didn’t actually take that long to make yourself look hot …suddenly I caught myself in the window reflection…


Seriously, why had I reapplied my make up in the dark and worn a fur coat? I cringed internally, as a drag like Cruella De Ville started back at me. I always seemed to make quite the entrance to my dates and never for the right reasons?! I shrugged off the embarrassment and walked into the restaurant.

As I walked down the open stairway, I realised just how polished this place was (and how unpolished I was). Everything was straight edges, clean graphite surfaces, dim lights and the plates of food coming out of the kitchen looked prettier than the lip liner I had just applied. The hostess greeted me.

“Name please?” she asked. After replying with Sam’s name, she replied. “The other party is already here” I smiled politely and my stomach did a little flip. In my rush, I had actually forgotten I was meeting a real life person and as silly as it seems wearing the wrong outfit for a date had knocked my confidence. The hostess walked me to the table and there he was…

As he stood up to greet me, I realised that it was in fact Sam that was the most polished part of the restaurant. With clean cut hair, a cleaner cut tweed blazer and a crisp white shirt.  He stood up and cracked a smile with teeth whiter than his shirt, I immediately regretted my “rushed to get ready” approach. He was dreamy.

“Hi B” he smiled “Nice to meet you”

After we settled down and my Cruella De Ville/Vile cape had been removed by the hostess, we started to chat and I finally relaxed. Conversation flowed as Sam ordered a bottle of wine (that cost more than my weeks salary) and he told me about his life. I was seriously impressed. He was such an intelligent guy. He had studied at Cambridge, followed by his Masters in Harvard and then spent time out in California. If there were ever a game of Top Trumps in the education of medicine; Sam would have aced it.

I appreciate there are many women that look for certain qualities in a man to create that “Husband Material” (just a note on this, I totally disagree with the whole husband material vibe – you are massively excluding pretty amazing guys because of things like not being a home owner or not working in the perfect job, it’s silly. On another note, there is clinically zero possibility that I would be attracted to someone who was stable enough to be marriage material. I save that attention for the narcissist, cheating, immature, commitment phobe dream boats that sail around). lolz.

Anyway, Sam appeared to be pretty perfect in the imaginary husband list department…


Older, well-travelled, good looking, great job etc. (whatever it is that normal people look for) We talked more about his job, I knew he was a surgeon (but that was a pretty broad term) so I asked him about what he did.

“I’m currently working in the research side of science, so spend most of my day in a lab” he said.

“Wow” I replied, taking a sip of the wine I couldn’t really afford to drink “What type of research?”

“Stem cell growth” he explained “We are currently looking at how we can use stem cells to grow limbs” ….


If I have ever felt like I am adding no value to society, the date with Sam confirmed that I indeed was not.

Growing limbs? I couldn’t grow my hair to an acceptable length.

Anyway, I struggled to not spit my wine out (I shouldn’t given the price), I was so impressed.

As the night continued, I really enjoyed Sam’s company but it was so obvious our lives were worlds apart. And guiltily, I was so tired from the week, I wanted to get home (and admittedly) message Joey (I know that is terrible).

When the cheque finally came (along with my gross Cruella De Ville coat) Sam paid for the whole bill. I found it embarrassing that I couldn’t offer to pay half (shame on you girls who expect to be paid for) but I genuinely think my card would have declined at the cost. As I walked out of the restaurant, I had firmly decided that Sam and Hakkasan weren’t for me. I wanted the diner and cheeky curly haired man! (The story of my life ladies and gents).

Although I had decided that Sam wasn’t me, it was pretty obvious Sam hadn’t come to that conclusion too. As we headed up the stairs and out into central, he put his arm round me…


I knew we weren’t on the same wave length, so declined more drinks and waited patiently on my Uber. Sam waited with me for the taxi to arrive and we said good night. He was such a gent and I’m sure is going to make some limb growing, polo playing babe extremely happy but that one isn’t me.

As I headed back, exhausted in the taxi, I messaged Joey – I was now even more excited about seeing him and when the second date came round we had an equally amazing “sparky” time.

The dates continued that way, we got dressed up, went to bars, ate great food and didn’t stop laughing. Four great dates went by quickly (along with four great date kisses) but it was now getting to the stage where I kind of wanted the dates to run into the next day (ya get me ladies) and felt four dates was a pretty acceptable timeframe (check out our Podcast tomorrow on “It’s a numbers game” that may have changed slightly).

After four amazing dates, who could have know that Joey and I would come to such a turbulent and dildo filled (it isn’t as great as it sounds, trust me) end?

Again, thanks for reading and enjoy the next (and last) post on Joey!







Tinder Take Two: The Surgeon and The Show Off

So, before I begin this post, I just want to summarise why I felt the need to write about the Surgeon and the Show off (aka. Sam and Joey). Firstly, both of the above gents are probably the most intelligent guys I have met (for very different reasons) and I had a great time with them (but with very different stories to tell). This post is all about my second time round on Tinder, talking about the rare “spark” we all search for, he start of the story of Joey and I (strap in guys it’s a turbulent one) and the age old question – WHY DO WE ALWAYS PICK THE BAD BOYS?! …

…A couple of months passed following Oscar and I’s break up. I had a “cleanse” from dating and was feeling refreshed after lots of friend, drinking and gym time. Following one of the many crazy nights out (feeling hungover and needy in bed), I begrudgingly rekindled with my old red flame – Tinder. For anyone who has been in a relationship and then re-downloaded the apps, well…

giphy (100)

You feel me…

As I swiped through the profiles, I felt slightly underwhelmed and scared for my single future. Why were there so many weirdo’s in the world of dating? After swiping left and right for ten minutes, I inevitably gave up and resigned myself to the fact that there were no normal men in London (dramatic much) and I would be single forever…


I pulled myself away from my phone and decided to prep myself for Monday and it was an important Monday at that. After long and hard thoughts, at the time, I had decided to look for a new job back in the corporate world. As sad as I was to leave the company, I had landed myself a great new job and was looking forward to the new challenge. As I planned my outfit, I started to get a little knot in my tummy (anxiety strikes) as I thought about the next day. I felt like a kid about to start my first day at school. Would I be good at my job? Would the offices be fun? Would the people be nice? (Please take a real note of the last question for later down the line). My phone buzzed startling me out of my day dream.


I picked up the message. Following Oscar and I’s breakup, Tom had been hot on my heels to meet for dinner. I had put off us meeting a few times for fear of Tom and I not being in the same place. Following his drunken out pour of how much he regretted us coming to an end, I had been skeptical of his feelings towards me, but as I couple of months passed I felt this had probably subsided and had agreed to meet Tom for dinner and drinks to celebrate my new job.

The week passed incredibly quickly after starting my new job, it was a whirl of introductions, new things to learn and a long commute across the wonderful central line everyday, so by the time Friday came round, I was ready for dinner with Tom. We met at a Reds True BBQ If you haven’t been already, you’re based in East London and are not (I repeat, not) a vegetarian; put this blog down and go and order the donut burger immediately).

It was great to catch up with Tom; we chatted about work, friends, holidays – he was heading off to Thailand with his housemate Jamie and was really excited about it. He had moved into his new place with Jamie and another two guys. Just going to throw it out there ladies, I can vouch (as can my friends) that was a wonderful wonderful house…. it was always real pleasure waking up with one topless hot man, but when there’s 4 wandering around…


I digress …

As Tom and I chatted, it felt relaxed (as always) and I loved catching up with him. Tom always made me feel at home, it was so frustrating that he was so nice, good looking but for the life of me I couldn’t feel that “spark” (that we all search for). After a lovely evening, Tom and I headed home (separately I might add).

“I’ll call you!” he shouted. I waved and smiled, I really did want to hear from Tom again, but my gut told me we were definitely in different places. I shook it off and checked my phone; notifications from the girls whats app group, work emails, Mum (obvs) and two Tinder notifications



Great, I thought to myself, probably a couple more weirdo’s. Again, I am probably being dramatic here, I had actually been pretty lucky to meet Tom and Oscar on my first ever Tinder dates (check out my Amazon vs. Google guy post) and at the time, the app had just taken off so there seemed to be a lot of people to have conversations with. As I sat on the tube home, I opened the app and checked out the two guys;

Sam, 31, Surgeon – I scanned through Sam’s pictures and profile. He had a detailed bio and was “traditionally” good looking. He had cropped hair and wore a suit in most of his pictures, in another picture was riding in a helicopter and another was an action shot of him playing polo…

Jeez … I thought to myself, not sure of how I felt about the polo shot. Following my last (and only) experience of polo, I had vowed never to watch it again or associate with people that did.

For anyone who has ever been to a Polo match, it is basically a swarm of people who deem themselves as middle/upper class but are about as cultured as a new build flat. They also tend not to like a northern accent and will openly mock you for it. However,  they have very little to say when you then mention that it may be a little more hilarious that they look like carbon copy Ken dolls and it was slightly embarrassing that ten fully grown men had turned up wearing the same chino/jumper tied round their shoulders/family crest little finger ring combo. It was a bit quieter then. Guess who let them know that then drank all their expensive champers…


I swiped to the next profile and smirked to myself…

Joey, 29, 99% positive feedback on Ebay – ok so bit different from a surgeon, but also funnier. I flicked through the pictures. Ok, so Joey was a lot different to surgeon Sam. His pictures were all over the world; him diving, surfing, posing in front of a waterfall (eye-roll) and he generally looked well travelled and super fun. Probably one of the more shallow things to note, Joey was also tall, tanned and the most amazing long waves of brown curly hair. For anyone that knows me, well, curly, hair….


(For better, for worse as you will soon see…)

I replied to both guys messages and over the week chatted to them both. It became quickly apparent that they were incredibly different people. Sam almost immediately got a date in the diary for us to go on a first date (a week later) and we only spoke very briefly over message, I guess a surgeon can’t be glued to his phone, so we didn’t really build any message rapport. Joey, on the other hand, messaged a lot and I have got to be honest lapped up the attention and fun, that I hadn’t really had with Oscar.

We talked a lot and about everything. He told me about his job, the fact he had been away travelling, that he had been in the army and all the way through we had the best banter.

We messaged all day, everyday. It really should have been intense but I couldn’t believe I  actually found it quite the opposite, Joey was so much fun and if in person he made me laugh as much as his messages; we were off to a great start. After a couple of days chatting, Joey had asked me to meet on the Friday. It was only the Tuesday and I was already looking forward to it.

The next day, following an awful commute across London, I arrived at the office in West London and set up my desk. After grabbing a coffee and scanning my emails, I notification came through on my whats app web (for anyone who doesn’t know about whats app web – great tool to look busy at work when you aren’t busy at all); it was Joey.

“Ok, so I can’t wait until Friday, are you free tonight?”

I did a little internal happy dance. Why was I so excited to meet a guy a guy I had never me? Turned out, it’s because I was new to the dating scene, now its a little more…


You girls feel me…

Anyway, even the “new to the dating scene” excitable puppy me managed to reign it in. I shouldn’t be so giddy for a first date. Who knew – maybe he wouldn’t look like his pictures? Maybe I wouldn’t like him? Or worse, maybe he wouldn’t like me…


Now that last one was silly…

As the day went on, Joey and I continued to message and pre-date nerves kicked in (thankfully they are a thing of the past). He arranged for us to meet at a diner in Covent Garden, at that point I realised I was probably over-dressed in my work attire but would have to roll with it. The day passed quickly and before I knew it, I was back on the central line heading for my first date with Joey.

“I hope you’re as funny in real life” I joked…

“You better be too” he jibed back.

Yeah, I better be, I thought to myself as pre-date nerves kicked in. When I finally reached Covent Garden station, I was already running 15 minutes late. I rushed off the tube, to be met by the overcrowded lifts. Now, for anyone that knows Covent Garden tube station well; in rush hour, you have 2 options. 1. Wait for an age for the lifts (and I was already late) or 2. Brave the 193 steps up to ground level. I gulped, guess it was option two.

At about step 60, I realised I had indeed run with the incorrect choice. As I finally reached the top, I was grateful for the blast of cold air at the entrance. I composed myself, while trying to subtly catch my breath and waft my shirt to stop me sweating (I know, hold yourselves back gents, I’m just too irresistible). My eyes scanned the entrance, looking for a familiar face, when suddenly my eyes stuck on a guy leaning against one of the entrance pillars…. Ok, so, he did look like his pictures, if not better. 6’2, tall, tanned, leather jacket and all that hair.


And here was me, sweaty in nude court heels. Joey noticed me and walked over. Shit, not even time for a quick make up touch up. Oh well, I guess sweaty me would have to do. “Hi B” he said and leaned in for hug, I stepped back and waved (yes waved). A hug would definitely give away the fact I had just run up 193 steps. He eyed me a little strangely. “Hi” I smiled back, trying to avoid looking mental.

We walked over to the Diner together and I noticed that Joey kept standing to the left of me. “Everything okay?” I asked. “Is that not my good side?”. He shuffled slightly. “I’m actually partially deaf” he murmured. Of course! I thought to myself, he had been in the army. He had joked over whats app, but I was never sure when he was being serious or not. My words fumbled out an apology, but he was really sweet and took it in his stride. This actually made me like him more.

When we arrived at the diner, we ordered food and chatted over burgers and beers. Even though we had talked a lot over message, we still had so much to say and I was having a great date. He complimented me on how much I ate (I basically eat like a boy) and how polite I was. Joey was lovely and we had a lot in common. He also definitely wasn’t quite as much the show off he had been over whats app.

After a lovely dinner, I could tell both of us didn’t really want the date to end. Instead of heading back we walked to a pub in central. We grabbed drinks and found a quiet corner of the pub. The drinks flowed, as did the conversation and the cheeky Joey that has chatted over message seemed to come out more. He teased me and made cheeky jokes. It wasn’t really fair that he was that hot and funny. I am pretty much 100% sure, I spent the date looking like this…


Playing it cool as always…

When the bell for final orders rang, I was shocked at how quickly time had passed. Joey and I left the pub together and decided to walk back to the tube station. As we walked back, it was evident we were both feeling a little drunk. We were flirting massively and I was kind of hoping that there was a first date kiss on the way, I was way too nervous to make the first move so instead kept playfully pushing him (like an overgrown seven year old, smooth again).

We finally cut through a quiet road, to the tube station, when out of no where and quite happily to my surprise – Joey suddenly grabbed hold of me and kissed me. Now when I say kissed me, it was no boring, awkward first kiss date. This was hands in hair (well hands all over), pushed up against the wall amazing first date kiss. And there is was, the thing we all claim to seek…


The rare spark!

After our kiss, I was a little speechless, I have only had two kisses like that so it was kind of unexpected. We joked on the way back to the tube and Joey walked me to my platform.

“I really want to see you again” said Joey, as the train pulled into the platform. I smirked at him.

“Maybe” I teased (I was for sure lying). “I’m not sure I had a good time”

He laughed and kissed me good-bye, there it was again….


As I headed home on the tube, people stared at me as I sat grinning like a cheshire cat . After 6 months with Oscar, I had never felt a spark or chatted so much. In one date with Joey, I had done all of that and was excited to see him again. It was such a lovely start. I thought about our next date and remembered that I also had a date lined up the following week, eeek! I would have to cancel.

Little did I know, there was a reason that everything was so sparky with Joey, plus find out more about the super surgeon date and why Joey and I were to go out with as much of a bang as we went in with.

Thanks for reading again!

B x















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!)

giphy (88).gif

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…


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

giphy (89).gif

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 …

giphy (90)

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)

giphy (79)

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. 


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). 

giphy (80)

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…


“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…

giphy (81)

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…

image1 (14)

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 


Dating the websites…

Following Amazon Tom handing over the chocolate boost bar, I immediately felt at ease. As we walked over to the bar, I clutched the chocolate bar in my hand; this was the first piece of food I had encountered all day and I was fighting the urge to rip the packet open and inhale the snack but thought this may give off a less than lady like demean (little did I know, I was on track to diminish that anyway).


I struck up conversation with Tom to distract myself from the hunger pains. We chatted about work mainly; he had a pretty cool job working for Amazon and as he talked about the office. My current job working in the city was working for a small business and I missed the corporate world terribly (said no one ever), but I did.


Tom had organised for us to have drink at a bar close to Liverpool Street. We managed to find a seat and after Tom ordered a bottle of red, we sat down and got to know one another. Turns out my pre-date nerves had been totally unnecessary; we had a lot in common! We talked about Netflix series (and how we were both guilty of binge watching), work, the gym and I couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk Tom, and it was genuinely like meeting an old friend.


However, as the conversation continued -so did the wine. (gulp) As I hadn’t eaten all day I was starting to feel a little light headed. I shrugged off my tipsiness, I would just limit myself to one more glass (said no one ever)…


Two bottles later and the conversation had moved from intellectual to idiocy. Tom and I joked around and by this point I was having too much fun to notice it was 12pm and I still hadn’t eaten. Mid conversation; I excused myself to the bathroom. As I stood up, it seemed the room stood up with me (you know the feeling? When the walls move?) and I teetered like Bambi in my heels. Tom reached out his arm to balance me “Shall I get us some food?” He asked. I actually wanted to kiss him (and would do more than that later); food sounded like the best thing EVER. I made my way to the bathroom and once in there tried to sober myself up.


I re-applied my make up and had a short sharp word with myself in the mirror. When I arrived back at the table Tom had ordered a platter of food to eat. I ate in as lady like a manner I could manage whilst starving. I even offered Tom the last piece of breaded chicken when in reality all I wanted to snatch it from him and growl like some rabid wild hyena. In my absence and much to my dismay Tom had ordered another bottle of wine with the food and this is the part of the story that takes the form of drunken flashes rather than a realistic account of the date.


From what I remember after the last bottle (and have been reminded by Tom on many occasions); I blurted out the whole Matt and I drama (to which Tom listened politely and was extremely empathetic), about the poor career choices I thought I had made since moving to the city. I then; took my shoes off in protest (of nothing) followed by taking a selfie of both Tom and I then sent it to my mum (yup, I have no words either and it doesn’t feel better writing it second time round) Tom as I know you are reading this my lovely friend – thank you for putting up with me on that date (and since) – you deserved a medal!


As I left the bar (shoeless) I made the informed (and classy) decision that it wasn’t the best idea to get the tube home.

“Tom!” I shouted, putting my hand on my chest, clearly ready to make some loud drunk announcement at 1am. “Can I tell you something? And it’s a big secret” (this was not a big secret…) Tom agreed to hear more…


“I, Tom” I continued “have never ever ever ever had a one night stand” I giggled and shh’d him.


Surprisingly, Tom didn’t ask too many questions about my announcement nor did he put up much of a fight when I insisted on staying at his place. As such, my first Tinder date extended a little more than I had originally imagined and Tom was my first one night stand… but more on one night stands later…


I was startled from my sleep by the loudest horn noise. I sat bolt upright and my head span. I covered my hung-over eyes that had been blinded by the morning light. Wait? Morning light? Why could I see morning light? I had blackout blinds. My head pounded and at that moment my brain couldn’t even comprehend my current situation. I opened my eyes more slowly than the first time round and let them adjust to my surroundings. Wait … This wasn’t my bedroom… Where was I? … I looked around the room and felt a little lost. I was lying in the standard young professional rented London apartment, only issue was – it wasn’t mine!


“Morning” said a male voice. I jumped so hard I nearly fell off the bed. I turned (too quickly for my fuzzy head) and there was a topless Tom. “You feeling okay?” He asked. Safe to say; I wasn’t feeling okay, I didn’t know where I was, I was supposed to be in work, my head pounded and as reality dawned on me – I wasn’t feeling as proud of my one night stand as I was last night.


“What time is it?” I asked, panicked. “And where are I?” Tom calmed me. “Becky, it’s  730am and you’re in Bethnal Green”


I breathed a sigh of relief, okay, drama over; I was two stops away from work and home on the central line and I wasn’t due in work for another 2 hours.


My brain calmed and the evening quickly pieced back together. A kaleidoscope of laughs, selfies and shoe-less antics flooded back this was then followed by a lot of naked flashes and I just wanted the ground to swallow me up.


How. Embarrassing.


Tom immediately brushed it off and invited me for breakfast. We had food and drank coffee, although I still couldn’t shake the embarrassment. After back and forth chat we basically talked one another out of going to the office and called in to “work from home” We spent the morning chatting (sober), eating and watching TV.


Even after my maiden voyage in the “one night stand” sea, Tom was very lovely and made me feel relaxed. I realised (sober) how well got on; he really made me laugh and I felt like I could actually talk to him as a friend. Sure, without a few wines, I didn’t have the same “jump him” urge, but he was such a nice guy and seemed so genuine.


After a lovely (and slightly slutty) first date, I left Tom’s place and got on the tube home. I have to (shamefully) admit, that leaving, I was marginally proud of myself. I had never had a one night stand and in that moment, walking home in my work dress still slightly drunk; I could finally say I had done it.


(Just a quick note; my first POD cast will talking about one night sands as I think there are different views on this, so keep your ears peeled.)


When I got home, I checked my phone and there was a message from Tom “Hey B I had fun today :)” That was sweet! Beneath his message notifications from tinder filled my phone with little red flames.


I hadn’t actually been talking to anyone since chatting with Tom and hadn’t been active on Tinder for a week or so. I’m terrible at spinning plates, let alone men and if I dated more than one, I would slip up and call them by the wrong name or something. Given I was embarking on one night stands, I didn’t think wrong name calling would be appropriate and opened on to Tom’s profile…

“Tom – last active 1 hour ago ”


Now…I am under no illusion that all guys (and girls) are solely committed/married after one Tinder date but 1 hour ago, I had been in Tom’s bed, I’ve got to be honest… didn’t feel great. Was this the world of dating? Swiping post-cordial? I gave up and put my phone down.


Over the next couple of months alongside work and the nights out; Tom and I continued to see one another. Both being foodies meant that we spent most of our time eating out and cooking. As we continued to see one another my feelings towards Tom developed although not in the way I had quite hoped. I had mixed feeling about him; on paper – he was great and I did fancy him but there was something I could never put my finger on … sometimes it felt more like a friendship that anything else.


On one particular date Tom and I decided to head to one of my favourite burger joints in London.


I met Tom at our usual spot at Liverpool Street station, it was both our first times at the burger place. “So.” I asked “Any clue on direction?” Tom didn’t have a clue so pulled his phone out. Much to my surprise; red flamed notifications filled his phone. He closed the notes down quickly and looked rather sheepish. I rolled my eyes, how did someone have the time to talk so much? We were now a couple of months down the line and although we hadn’t had the “where is this going” conversation, I was a little miffed yet again.


We had another nice dinner and after a relaxed evening; headed home. While on the way home my girly brain had an overthink. Maybe I wasn’t doing this dating thing right? Should I be dating more than one guy? Did I even have time to talk to people let alone date someone else?


The next day (which was a standard Friday night)  I was out in London with Mini. She asked how things were going with Tom and I told her about the tinder addiction I was dealing with. She laughed. “You are a few of months down the line, maybe have a chat to him?” she said “Do you even know if you like him long term B?” I thought about this for a minute. I did like Tom, on paper he was perfect but something still wasn’t sitting right. “Maybe just keep your options open, he seems to be” I liked Mini’s attitude. She was right, why couldn’t I play the field? (Turns out I’m terrible at it) but at the time I thought it would be a great idea.


After a boozy Friday night, I headed home. Tom called me drunk (the usual) telling me how much he liked me. Honestly, boys and mixed messages? And women are supposed to be the complicated ones eh?


Following the drunk call with Tom, I jumped into bed and popped my phone on charge. As I dozed off my phone vibrated – I leaned over half expecting to see another message from Tom and to my surprise, it was actually a match I had made a while back.


“Oscar, 32”

“Hi B, how’s your Friday evening been?”


I put the phone back down, I would respond to that in the morning.


When I woke the next day, I took some time out for me. I headed over to the Olympic Park with Mini where we held boot camp and got some breakfast at one of my fave brunch spots; Hatch in Homerton. I would strongly recommend their brunch to anyone visiting East London. Their food is fab and I am a massive advocate of supporting local businesses rather than the “Breakfast clubs” of the world.


Over brunch, Oscar and I had started to message…


“So what do you do?” Oscar asked.


I replied “I work in a small tech firm”


“That’s strange” he said “I work for a tech company, we may know the same people”


“Who do you work for?” I asked (not expecting know the same people)


“Oh I work for Google…”


Okay, so I now had Amazon and Google (you couldn’t write it) After laughing inwardly to myself Oscar and I went on to arrange a date for the following weekend.


As the week ran through, I started to realise just how bad I was at the whole “double dating”. I was already starting to trip up; I kept mentioning things to Oscar that I had said to Tom that neither of them knew about and with working, studying and generally living life I found it difficult to text 2 guys at once. Hats off to anyone who dates numerous people, it’s like a full time job and to idiots like Matt who basically lead double lives – you deserve a medal, I am not sure how you have the admin time!


Thursday came round and Tom and I had another mid-week date lined up. He cooked me dinner and we watched family guy on the sofa. Things were weird with Tom, he was such a nice guy made me feel at home and I could talk to him about anything but there still wasn’t a huge spark no matter how much I willed it. Plus his phone was still lit up with red flames every time we met, so we clearly were on different pages. After another nice evening, we went to bed early as we were up early for work the next day.


My phone rang and bolted me out of my sleep. That wasn’t my usual alarm? I grabbed my phone off the bedside table quickly not wanting to wake Tom. It was my friend Shell who I sometimes got the tube into work with, she would be wondering where I was. I answered and whispered…


“Hey! I stayed out last night I won’t be on the normal tube time”


“Oh hey girl” she almost shouted – Shell was always full of energy and was obviously already out and about. Her voice was so energetic and bubbly that if my whispering hadn’t woken Tom, this conversation probably would have. “No worries! She said and oooooo you dirty stop out, which one is this Amazon or Google guy” I froze, her voice was so clear and loud the “Amazon Google” comment basically hung in the air of the silent bedroom! I turned over slowly praying Tom wouldn’t be awake (pleasedontbeawakepleasedontbeawake) – nope, just my luck, there was Tom wide awake and gave me a little wave. He’d obviously heard.


“Erm … So … I … Err” no words came out and for anyone who knows me that isn’t the norm.


“Look B, just don’t worry about it” he said and got out of bed to get ready.


I felt bad, maybe Tom wasn’t worried about it, maybe he was but what I did know at that moment after a couple of months seeing Tom I needed to make a decision as the whole double dating thing wasn’t for me; never will be. Tom left before me and I decided to drop him a message and be transparent. I wasn’t sure what I wanted from Tom but this would hopefully clear things up…

“Hey Tom, so I’m sorry about this morning. I just wanted to be honest as the whole thing weirded me out a little. I’m not sure what this is or even how I feel about it but I do know I’m not the type of girl who dates multiple guys and if this just keeps going how it is although I’m having fun it just seems kind of pointless, you know?”

Tom responded in a way similar to mine saying how busy work was and the fact that he was moving didn’t help. He wasn’t sure what he wanted either. After chatting, it was obvious we weren’t heading in a direction together; we mutually decided to remain friends. (Little did I know – this wouldn’t be the last between Tom and I, but more of that later in the story)


As I left Tom’s apartment, I didn’t feel sad or anxious, it felt like it was meant to happen. I put my headphones in and headed off to work to enjoy my Friday and pay day drinks. Oscar text me to confirm we were still meeting the next day, I honestly couldn’t be bothered but it wasn’t really fair to cancel.

Saturday came round and I made minimal effort for the date. I pulled on jeans and a white top coupled with some heels and headed off to meet Oscar in the agreed bar in Central. I arrived slightly early so grabbed a drink and sat at the bar. This time I didn’t have any first date nerves. My phone vibrated and it was Oscar “I’m so sorry- I’m running slightly late” I didn’t mind – I ordered another cocktail from the bartender (that one would be on Oscar). As I was sipping my drink; I looked over towards the door and saw Oscar rush into the bar looking flustered. He was dressed very well and had clearly made an effort. As I watched him look around panicked I was reminded of when Tom and I had first met when I had been all over the place. I immediately warmed to him and walked over to put him out of his misery. His back to me, I tapped his shoulder and he spun round.”Oscar – Hi, I’m B!” I said.

Oscar smiled clearly relieved, my gut immediately told me Oscar was a good guy and the next few months would certainly be fun (and will make you an interesting read)…

Thanks for reading again!