Harry the Hot Hat Thieving Hippy

Following the best date ever, I realised that as much fun as I had, I probably shouldn’t settle down with a really hot gay guy, you know? Sexual orientation really isn’t something you can or should overlook. (Dating guru advice tip #1)

After my last date, I gave up on dating apps as the guys I met kept turning out to be oddballs plus the likelihood was, I wasn’t going to meet the man of my dreams on there. (turns out the world works in funny ways but that comes later in the story).

Anywhooooo, after giving up on the dating apps (for about the third time in 2 years) and hearing everyone talk about how meeting some “organically” was the way forward (who knew I should be approaching men like my vegetable shopping hey?), I wasn’t overly surprised when one of my friends suggested setting me up on a “half” blind date.

Now, by half, I mean, I had kind of already met my mystery date at a party. Turned out, at the party, I  had decided that it was more important to drink a bottle of prosecco, roll up my t-shirt into some make shift crop top and pretend I was sporty spice. (standard) I was clearly too busy high kicking my way round the bar to notice the ruggedly good looking guy who was there.

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 #truestory

So, my friend had set us up on a “half” blind date.

Turns out the half blind date was called Harry and from what I could vaguely remember, he was kind of cute. We had messaged a little back and forth but between holidays and festivals on both our sides, we hadn’t really managed to build up any rapport ahead of our date, so when the day finally came round, I was feeling slightly nervous (which wasn’t like me).

We had agreed to meet at a local bar in East London which wasn’t far from where I lived at the time. As I walking down to the bar, I messaged Harry to check in.

“All good and on my way” he responded.

After a short ten minute walk, I arrived at the busy bar. I squeezed my way through the crowds and looked round for Harry. I was pretty sure I hadn’t been drunk enough at the party to totally forget what he looked like. I shuffled my way to the bar and ordered a drink, followed by a quick message to Harry.

“Hey. Just arrived and at the bar. Can’t seem to see you”

There was no response.

As I waited for my drink to arrive, I looked down at the phone. 20 minutes late? Now, for anyone that knows me, I love a to do list and being organised, so, as the minutes went by, I started to feel a tiny weeny bit antsy. Finally, the door to the busy bar opened and a face I recognised walked in.

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Jokes (but nearly)

Lucikly, Harry was super cute, so I overlooked the lateness.

As he waked towards me and I realised how hot he was I mentally scolded myself for prioritising a spice girls rendition over making acquaintances with him that evening (wait, who am I kidding? I totally didn’t) and stood up to say hi.

Although Harry was hot, he wasn’t your “typical” type. Rather than the straight laced city boys I had dated recently, before even having spoken with him, I could tell he sat on totally the opposite end of the spectrum. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was gorgeous but with his long hair accompanied with a hippy necklace (that from memory was a tooth or sand or something along those lines), Harry for sure sat more on the side of hippy than hedge fund.

“Hey” he said and kissed my cheek “You look a lot different than I remember”

I had a sudden flash back of my sweaty self, energetically high kicking round the party..

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I shook it off…

Harry and I sat down and started to chat. As we got further and further into conversation, it became quickly apparent that he really was a “free spirit”. The conversation flitted from Glastonbury, to him buying a poncho, to cycling, to Artic Monkeys… I literally couldn’t keep up. After finishing our drinks, Harry then pulled me up to dance, being slightly drunk (and slightly surprised at the sudden change up from chat to cha cha) I just went along with it. After dancing, we were then moving again, this time to the beer garden where Harry did something that couldn’t be a bigger turn off to me…

He lit up a cigarette…

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Eww.

I mean up to now, it was quite apparent we weren’t that similar (I mean I’m all for energy and good vibes but I’m not wandering around Glasto with no bra and a poncho just yet) but, the night had been fun. It’s just for me, smoking, kind of a no no.

As the bar quietened and the evening came to a close, I said good night to Harry and headed home. I had a nice evening but could tell we were for sure different people, the thought of being so laid back actually made me feel anxious (lol) and Harry was so laid back he was basically horizontal. I mean, I probably could have seen out another date with him but was heading to a festival the next day, so would probably just let this one dwindle out…

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One festival later…

Now, I don’t know about anyone else feels, but after a full weekend festival, I was travelling back on the train feeling like

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It was safe to say the weekend had been fairly heavy and when I arrived back to my apartment and sat down on the sofa.

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I wasn’t feeling all that human.

As I stared into space contemplating life, my phone buzzed. It was Harry.

“Hey, just wanted to say I had an ace time with you” (Only three days later) “Would be good to hang out again some time”.

Now, judge if you will, but that day, I was in a place where a hot man and pizza was basically my alternative to staring at a wall feeling rather emotional.

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…and although I had established he and I were very different, I called Harry and that evening, we had our second date chilling on the sofa with pizza. (dream).

Throughout the evening, It was still apparent Harry and I had very little in common, but he was super good fun to be around and perhaps his laid back energy rubbed off on me a little.

Turns out, it rubbed off so much, Harry ended up staying round the night.

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Turned out, for two people that had not so much to talk about, we didn’t really need to.

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So after that evening, Harry and I continued to date.

Dating Harry was not really like anything I have ever experienced before, we had very little in common but when we saw one another, just had a really great time.

There was however a very slight problem. For me, personally, someone who likes to plan in advance and know what I’m doing and when I’m doing it, the nature of Harry’s free spirit-ness sometimes (well all of the time) didn’t really gel. For example (and I don’t know about you other ladies out there), usually, when I am going on a date, I like to have maybe a couple of days’ notice (minimum a couple of hours), but that apparently was not something  Harry had in his remit. I remember one time, we were talking generally over message, he then mid conversation stopped talking (normal), I didn’t hear anything for two days (not normal), then randomly received a message midday on a Sunday afternoon saying he was round the corner and wanted to invite me to a food market, well you can imagine…

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And things continued this way.

The dates we went on always seemed to reflect Harry’s sporadic personality; we once arranged a date to watch a movie, we ended up gardening (yes, me). Another time we went out for a quiet pub drink, somehow ended up on an hour long hike in the pouring down rain.

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Then there was the time I was sat in a pub waiting for Harry to arrive (in a dress with a glass of prosecco) and he turned up in leathers with a spare helmet and we ended up out on the country roads of a motorbike in the middle of the night. That is about as wild as it gets for me…

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(P.s. Sorry Mum)

Harry’s free spit was rather fun and if I am totally honest probably taught me to relax a little and go with the flow.

There is however a limit to my free spirited nature (turns out it’s not a high limit) and while I enjoyed/developed slight anxiety around Harry and I’s last minute dates, random messages, lack of planning and lack of direction, his nature eventually started to annoy me. I realised that as much as I sometimes would like to be, I was never going to be that “boho”, last minute, free spirit kind of girl, turns out, I like to do lists and working out and spending hours getting ready.

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I’m not even sorry.

Anywhooo, Harry and I’s messages tailed off naturally, however, it wouldn’t quite be dating diaries style without something odd happening to send off our whirlwind romance.

Anyway, after about a week of Harry and I not chatting, I was getting ready for my Tuesday run (see I love a plan). After changing into my work out gear, I looked around for my cap that I wore constantly to work out. I was kind of frustrated as it was a great mask for my humid hair, it had been missing for a week and I just had no idea where I had misplaced it. Feeling frustrated, I shook it off and head out for my run.

Once I had run the full length of the park, I lay down on the grass to relax and started to scroll through my Instagram to pass the time. After a few seconds of swiping through my feed, a picture of Harry came up and I couldn’t believe my eyes…

There he was..

Amidst a group of friends

At a festival…

 WEARING MY BLOODY HAT!

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Now ladies, if this had been a sister or house mate, world war two would have erupted. However, I knew I probably couldn’t passive aggressively steal an item of Harry’s clothing back and as such, resorted to a text asking if he had my hat.

“Oh yeah, B, I totally forgot, I borrowed it and was going to let you know”

Ohhhhhh okay, at least now had an alibi for when I robbed a bank.

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On a serious note, I don’t care who you are, free-spirited or otherwise.

You don’t take my hat.

After a fairly curt response to Harry, he agreed to give me back my “stolen” hat. I went round to collect it and was surprised to find my hat accompanied with a little love letter, that expressed how much he had enjoyed hanging out with me and he was sorry about the hat.

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I still have no words to this day.

On a more serious note, Harry was genuinely a lovely guy and his free spirited, laid back nature was something I definitely required needed a dose of, in some ways, it did me good…

But you know what they say about too much of a good thing 😉

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Lol!

Thanks again for reading.

B

x

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A Man’s Best Friend…

So, for anyone who knows me truly, you will be well aware of my love for doggies. So you can imagine my excitement when the next guy I dated owned a real life squishy puppy! In this post, I tell you about the date with a man (and his best friend), about being true to yourself, not letting the little things slide and the one time I can hand on heart say that me (B) did not want a dog in the room … enjoy!…

After the disaster date with the TV presenter, it was safe to say that my faith had not been officially restored in the world of dating. To couple this, at the time I wasn’t sure if it was me but it felt like like everyone that I knew had decided that at that exact moment they would get engaged, married and/or have a baby. I started to feel like I was the only person in the world that was single. I would open my what’s app group to another hen party celebration or wedding group or baby shower…

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We’ve all felt that at some stage ladies… 

You’ll be glad to know, that eventually that feeling of being left on your own, it passes and you realise the importance of your own journey. I got to that stage, however, at the time sentences such as “Haven’t you thought about kids?” and a sympathetic “At least you have your career” executed by “you’re a pretty girl, surely you have a boyfriend” were sticking a little more than they probably should have.

Anywhoooo, as with any usual weekend for me (at the time) I had plans with friends and a Friday night date in the diary.

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The date lined up was with a guy called James and the initial reason I had been attracted to him (don’t judge me) was as well as being bearded, tattooed and handsome in every one one of his pictures he sported the cutest and chubbiest French bull dog accessory there ever was 

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For anyone that knows me well, this was a game changer.

James and I had initially started to chat over a dating app and had joked about him bringing along his dog (who I established was named PJ) to our date on the Friday, never once actually believing that this would happen, so, you can imagine my excitement when as I walked through the door of the pub when sat there alongside my date was the cutest fattest sausage roll looking French bull dog I have ever seen 

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I was so excited, I failed to notice the really hot man sat next to him. Following the obligatory “throw myself on the floor and shower dog with an inappropriate amount of affection” move of mine, I finally turned to James and said hi. James was very cute and I noticed immediately also very cool. 

Now, I wouldn’t say I am an “un-cool” person (I mean, I can’t say cool has a definition but you get what I mean). I dress well (you can’t go wrong with monochrome black and white, zebras always seem to look dapper right?) and wouldn’t say I’m untrendy (is that even a word) but next to James, I felt it. 

The man genuinely looked like East London, Burning Man and a tech start up had chewed him up and spat him out. Rolled up slightly loose Levi’s, no socks, unbranded trainers, an oversized mac (that still looked like it was meant to fit that way), a ring on every finger, tattoos, beard and a clutch bag French bull dog – kind of put my skinny jeans white T and Nikes to shame. 

As we sat down and ordered drinks, I was more than overjoyed when PJ decided that my lap was his location for the date.

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Once my attention had been firmly averted from PJ, James and I managed to get in some well needed conversation and getting to know one another.

Turns out James was a bit of a catch, he was head of marketing for a well known sports company, lived in a great part of town and must be a fairly responsible human given he was in charge of a dog (Becky logic at its finest).

As we talked it seemed James and I had some things in common and had really similar senses of humour. We talked about work, dogs (obvs), back home (as we were both from outside of London) and it was refreshing to speak to an actual normal and sane human being. As the conversation continued, we flipped onto the topic of fashion. 

“So, what’s your preferred label?” James asked. 

Truth be told, I didn’t have a favourite brand, black Joni Topshop skinny jeans fit me perfectly and anything else I just wore as it felt good. Must be cooler than that, my brain scrambled for the least high street brand I could think of. 

“Cos” I blurted out (totally not high street and super cool execution on my part.) “But intend to be in my gym gear most of the time.” (that part was honest) “How about you?” I asked, diverting the conversation away from my lack of fashion knowledge.

James replied with an obscure probably uber cool brand that I had never of. I nodded in agreement of how great the obscure French brand was (fraud). He continued..

“So are you actually into the gym or are you one of these girls that wear active wear?” he asked. Before I could answer, he continued “Don’t you feel that everyone now wears gym gear, so it’s kind of a guessing game as to what type of person they are? A bit like the kind of world we will in now, ironic no?”

Wow. Deep bro. I literally had no idea what he was talking about, I worked out a lot so needed gym gear plus my bum looked fabulous, it was an all round win win, I wasn’t really looking for the meaning of life in my Nike leggings. 

Anywhooo, the date continued in a similar manner. James was great, but there were a few moments where he would mention some super cool unheard of DJ or clothes brand and I would be thrown off but would continue to agree like some insane nodding dog. James seemed great and I was just so in need of time with a normal human, I overlooked the little differences 

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As the date came to a close, James and PJ walked me home and at my door, we had the standard first date kiss. The kiss was a little like the date, nice but something was missing. I shook it off, while the world seemed to be marrying itself off, I seemed to be encountering cave gremlins, I wasn’t letting a couple of little differences stop me going on another date with a nice guy. That totally wasn’t me settling…..

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…A few dates down the line and I was sat in a local East London bar with PJ and James. I had consciously dressed for the occasion, but still felt out-cooled by PJ (let alone James). The dates with James and I had continued to be nice and I just loved cuddling PJ but after us spending more time together the differences in our interests and life were becoming more apparent. After listening to a live band (that I had never heard of) James and I headed back to his place. 

When we arrived back and after more cuddles with PJ, we went through to the kitchen to cook dinner. As James cooked dinner, my mind wandered. James was always so sweet, he cooked breakfast and dinner for me, he was in a great job, made me laugh, but there was a niggle I could feel that we were different people and as much as I tried to ignore it, it kept cropping up (gut as always ladies). I distracted myself by washing my hands, I was surprised by how good the lavender soap smelled. 

“Hey James” I chirped “this smells amazing” 

James continued to tell me that the soap was a unique “animal cruelty free” brand (that I had never heard of). 

“I’m surprised you’re not more conscious of the products you use B, considering how much you love animals.” Hmm, a little condescending on James’ part. I chose to ignore the comment (I had been doing a lot of that recently) and not mention the fact he had leather Dr martens sat at the front door (ironic much on the front of animal products). I looked down to pick up the towel when my eyes were suddenly taken by James socks. 

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His socks were covered in Ganga leaves.

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Hmmm, not sure how I felt about this one. I am not the biggest fan of smoking Mary Jane (see totally cool) and as I broached the subject of James’ socks, I kind of hoped that it was one of his “ironic” things again. Turned out, it wasn’t.

James decided that he would let me into his “creative” secret and that secret was that smoking weed at 32 years of age every day was what “got him into the creative zone” and “chilled him”. I continued to nodding dog, whilst feeling slightly horrified inside. How could I break to James that the only thing that got me into a “zone” was a to do list and I was never going to be that boho cool smoky weed girl (see, I’m just not cool). 

As we headed to bed, it was now clearer in my mind than ever that James and I weren’t meant to be and as I lay down, I was actually preparing for my reasons to not “sleepover” that night. Luckily, PJ jumped in bed between us…

“See” I said “We can’t, PJ’s here” 

“Sure we can” James replied. 

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No. We. Could. Not.

Doing it in front of a dog. A dog is the equivalent of a new born baby/small angel, it was basically abuse. (lol). I would not be a part of it. 

Soon after this, James and I petered out. 

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The differences between us became too apparent and if I am completely honest, I look back and realise that I for sure wasn’t comfortable or secure enough in myself to act on that sooner and we’ve all been in that place at some stage, it’s a learning curve.

I can still firmly say that James (and PJ) were great guys to hang out with, I guess our definitions of cool were a little different and now I’m totally down with the fact I’m definitely not the coolest person and I LOVE being in my active wear 😉 

It’s safe to say the next guy I dated was not so cool (or even normal for that matter) so look out for Phil the Felon (and laugh at how I ended up on a date with a criminal – only me eh?). Phil the Felon also inevitably pushed me into the arms of someone who was definitely not my type and that is were the saga of the Work Wife starts (and you honestly won’t believe where that story ends up)…

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As always – thanks for reading. 

B x 

The TV Presenter – That wouldn’t turn off

Following a few months well and truly away from dating, I found myself in a familiar bar spot with the girls on a Saturday night. We were a couple of bottles of prosecco’s down and talking about heading to a more classy venue in Mayfair, a conversation that we always had but inevitably ended up in Cargo (which for anyone outside of London looking a comparison is basically Sankeys…enough said) We also always ended up playing some ridiculous game like never have a I ever or some teenage type of truth or dare. Basically, my life hasn’t evolved since the age of 16, I just have more disposable income (and even saying that is slightly optimistic) 

Anywhoo, as we drank our prosecco and chatted away, I looked over at the bar queue to see if now would be a good time to stock us up on another bottle. As I did, my eye was caught immediately by a guy at the bar. 

Now, when a stranger catches your eye, lets be honest, it isn’t usually because of their mega hot personality, 9/10 times it’s because they are looking pretty. However, on this occasion, this wasn’t really the case. The guy stood at the bar was not my usual type, around 5”10 with dark cropped hair and draped in a dark green leather jacket (yes I said that), I couldn’t help but stare over. I recognised that guy from somewhere! Had I worked with him? Did I go to school with him? 

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The stranger turned around and I could now see his face more clearly.

Ok, so I definitely recognised him. Who was this man?… He looked over at the table and caught me mid stare. It was only at this point, I realised that I probably looked like a bit of a creep and was staring so intently I was practically squinting. Embarrassed, I looked away and shuffled for something to make me look preoccupied. This ended with me toasting a candle, great diversion and smooth as always. 

After finishing my delicious candle, I walked over to the bar, keen to avoid the man I had just basically eye raped. As I grabbed the final bottle at the bar, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to be greeted by the stranger I had stared at rather intently earlier. Hmm, he was actually kind of cute. 

“Hey” he said smoothly. “I’m Tim” and stuck out his hand. 

What was this? A handshake? Mid bar? Formal. I awkwardly held my hand out to shake back (what else was I supposed to do?!) and I as I did eyed Tim over. He was actually kind of cute and it’s not very often I would comment on something like this, but had a very lovely voice (it’s what every girl wants no?). And I still really recognised his face. And as if he had read my mind (or very obvious staring)…

“Yeah you recognise me right? Don’t worry, I get it a lot, I’m on TV” 

THAT WAS IT! He was a TV presenter, now I realised. I smiled, glad I wasn’t going crazy (already there fyi). He continued…

“But I couldn’t help noticing just how pretty you are. And let’s be honest you weren’t just staring because you thought you knew me” he smirked. I half expected him to finish the sentence with this…

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Wow, next level confidence.

Not wanting to bruise his ego (as I wasn’t actually staring for that reason) I agreed to a date the next week. He was cute, confident and I do love an extrovert. As the week went by, I can’t say it wasn’t weird seeing the guy I was going on a date with on my TV every night and turns out, I knew more about politics than any other person in the office (one week only guys). 

When Friday night came round, I headed over to the cocktail bar that we had agreed to meet. As I arrived, I asked the waitress for the table under Tim’s name. 

“Sorry Miss” she replied “He hasn’t arrived yet” 

I looked around the dimly lit cocktail bar and realised that the whole of the lounge was filled by pairs. I would for sure look like the third (maybe twenty third wheel) if I sat down now, so politely excused myself to wait in the local pub until Tim arrived. 

As I walked into the pub, I felt a little more comfortable surrounded by a surge of Millwall fans (mega lolz). I pulled out my phone and text Tim…

“Are you on your way? I am waiting in the pub next door and going to grab a drink, what would you like?” I pressed send. 

Within seconds Tim responded…

“Hey bae, running late, will be there is ten and do me a favour, surprise me yeah?” 

Hmmm, 20 minutes late for a date and now trying to engage in some alcohol based trivia with me. Not a great start on Tim’s part. I ordered the glass of wine and waited for his arrival. 

After another 20 minutes (not 10) passed, when like a whirlwind Tim rushed through the pub door.

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Donned in a velvet blazer and chino’s, looking like a young Hugh Heffner, I was a little surprised at how over (and not so well) dressed he was. 

“Bae” he exclaimed (dying inside right now) “I am so sorry I am late, I must seem like such an arse hole, but you know what the TV game is like”

I couldn’t decide at that stage what was funnier, the blazer, the comment or watching 10 50 year old Millwall fans roll their eyes and giggle as they shot me looks of concern. Tim downed the glass of red wine (without a thank you I will note) and whisked me away from the pub and to the cocktail lounge. 

Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully), we hadn’t lost our table and after being seated by the waitress and our first cocktails ordered, I finally began to relax, when suddenly. 

“So, bae” he started (so loudly the rest of the cocktail lounge jumped simultaneously) “You are looking dee-vine, now, let me tell you what happened for me to be here so inexcusably late”

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As Tim went into explaining the reasons he was late (that I certainly wasn’t listening to), I continued to observe him. Had he been this loud in the bar? And why was he trying to fit so adjectives into one sentence? I glanced around and the quiet looking couple of the table next to us, stared over, obviously agitated by the conversation around Tim being late that they could here… them and me both, what I would give to be the third wheel now…

“What do you think bae?” he asked. I snapped back from my day dream. Shit. What did I think. Should I toast a candle again? That would surely distract him. Nope, let’s just go for it…

“Yeah, I totally agree” I nodded (worth a shot). Wow, it seemed to work, Tim continued to talk as my agreement to the conversation seemed to appease him. And when I mean Tim continued to talk, I mean Tim continued to talk…

“This time on set once was hilarious…”

“And you know, when you get stopped on the street it’s pretty embarrassing…”

“Meeting Ricky Gervais was such a dream…”

“No one believed in me when I initially got into acting…”

“Girls just love knowing I am on TV…”

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Two. Of. The. Longest. Hours. Of. My. Life. Later…

“So B, what do you do?” he asked (the first question he had asked me on the whole date!). It almost threw me off as I was awakened from my day dream where I had descended into thoughts around drowning myself in my shallow cocktail or how acceptable it would be to pretend faint on a date. I replied, but within seconds the conversation had veered back to Tim. Jeez, at least when he was on my TV I could turn him off – no option to do that here! 

After another hour of Tim talk, I simply couldn’t bear any more and made my excuses to order my Uber. Tim followed me outside and was loitering around. Surely he couldn’t think the date had gone well? 

“So B” he asked “Where are you heading back to?” 

I told him where I was heading back to. 

“Great bae!” he replied (loud as always) “I’m heading back that way, let’s pool” 

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Oh. Good. God. No

I couldn’t take anymore of Tim talk. But what could I say? 

“I would rather walk home through Leytonstone and risk being stabbed than be in a confined space with you?” Probably a bit much.

As Tim and I jumped in an Uber, I tried to think of a way I could not engage? Do a pretend sleep maybe? No such luck. As Tim continued to chat, I continued to try and find inner peace

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It wasn’t working. 

As Tim continued to talk, I noticed that he had pulled out chewing gum and offered some to me. Surely this wasn’t going where I though it was… 

“So B” he smiled (his very dazzling TV smile)

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“Seeing as we are here, you know, in the back of this taxi, let’s make out like sixteen year olds, yar?” As he leaned in, I felt only one emotion…

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“Sorry Tim, I don’t kiss on first dates” and with that lie told the Uber pulled outside my house. 

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Home. Turf.

As the Uber pulled away, I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god that was over. What an awful start to being back on the dating scene. Well at least it couldn’t get worse than that I thought to myself. Turns out, I was wrong about that too….

Thanks for reading!

B

x

Podcast 4: Work relationships

jim

Great suggestion from a reader! Are work relationships a good or bad idea? Hear us girls catch up on work flings, office break ups, the “power” attraction and gossip. We have heard of some Pam and Jim happy endings but we only seem to have found Dwight’s! Guess what our advice is? Enjoy x

 

The Dream Date Duncan

Hi guys, thanks for coming back after hearing about the dildo disaster, trust me, you wont believe this but it gets funnier and more surreal as well as a little more serious at times too. 

As much as I don’t like to write serious posts, with some of my story, it’s the right thing to do and I hope will raise awareness as to how we allow (our more how we shouldn’t allow) ourselves to be treated. I always want to write with transparency as my blog isn’t about projecting a perfect life that we see on Instagram but more the reality, the highs and lows and the mistakes we make that define the people we become. 

Anyways, sorry to get all DMC (deep meaningful convo for reference) on you, but wanted I to explain as we go further into the story. 

Anywho, the next part of my story is where my faith became restored (even if only briefly) in dating and talks about how sometimes we need to give ourselves the space to breathe before we move on as sometimes it can end in disaster. But something end in disaster for me again, surely not? Enjoy … 

After the dildo disaster, I was adamant that I wasn’t going to let this hump in road (no pun intended) stop me from getting back on track. I had spent a couple of months trying to understand the abrupt ending between Joey and I had come to and just when I had started to get over that hill when

BOOM 

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Like they do, he had come back in and fucked everything up again. Don’t they quite have that tendency ladies? Luckily, following my confrontation with Joey, his messages had lessened, I hoped eventually to nothing 

If I wanted sex toys, I had a local Anne Summers. Thanks. 

Anywhooo, at this point, my chipped heart had made me into a woman on a bit of a mission. I had knee jerk reacted (which we have all been guilty of) and had gone back on Tinder (gulp) with out taking a bit of time to breathe…

Because, you know, I was so totally over what happened. Totally so over it… Overrrrr it. Totally. 

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As the matches piled up (believe me not in an arrogant way). I swiped through each one and found myself picking fault. 

  • Unfunny bio – unmatched 
  • Bad t shirt – unmatched 
  • Don’t know how tall he is but looks short and I’m 5″1 so can obviously judge – unmatched

The list of silly and judgemental reasons that I unmatched with potentially nice guys went on and on. At the time although I couldn’t see it, I was probably still pretty hurt by Joey’s actions, the signs were clearly there that I wasn’t quite ready to date, but none the less was fairly determined to not let the last disaster hold me back.

As I swiped and was becoming further underwhelmed, a message popped through from a guy that I had survived my unrealistic grim-reaper like cull. 

DUNCAN: Hi Rebecca, how are you today?

I flicked through his pictures and bio. What a hottie! Joey who…? (jokes – we were not over Joey in any way shape or form at this point). Duncan looked tall, in amazing shape, dressed well and was incredibly handsome and as we started to chat I realised was actually a pretty cool person too.

Duncan worked in Creative advertising as a retoucher and as the conversation continued his creativity and passion not just about his work but about everything that he did shone through. We talked about work, interests, friends, life… basically everything. I remember thinking how refreshing it was to speak to a guy that seemed to have a passion outside of drinking with his mates all weekend and going on dates in Dirty Martini. 

After chatting for a couple of days, swapping Instagram’s, what’s apps etc. (standard dating app etiquette) and basically clarifying that neither party are a psychopath (note. it turns out you can’t clarify this even when you think you know someone, but that’s a story later down the line – look out for it), Duncan asked me out on our first date. Now with a first date, I’ve got to be honest, my usual expectations and suggestions are drinks or maybe a quick bite to eat somewhere, so, I was a little surprised when Duncan suggested Sushi Samba as a first date. For anyone who doesn’t know about this place, click the link, it is a rather nice place to go for drinks or food in general, let alone a first date. I agreed and looked forward to our date later in the week. 

The next evening, I was due to meet a few friends. In my old apartment (which I miss dearly) we had the biggest balcony where we spent most of the summer. Relaxing in the sun and chatting with my peoples was (and still is) one of my favourite things in the world (I just record it now – check out our podcasts!). Our stories always seemed to relate back to dating (this is inclusive of my guys friends too – who seem to have the same struggles as us ladies!)

As we chatted, I told the guys about the date lined up with Duncan. Everyone seemed impressed at the first date location and we did what all girls do and reviewed one another’s tinders.

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It’s a thing. 

“He is cute” said one of the girls “Although he doesn’t teeth smile in any of the pics” (Teeth smile also a thing). I stopped and looked, she was right he didn’t. Oh no. My brain suddenly had images of the gorgeous Duncan walking over to me in Sushi Samba and hitting me with this…

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As the culling scythe was firmly resting on my shoulder a lot at that time. My response was simple. 

“That’s true” I agreed “I probably shouldn’t go on the date” (logic prevails). 

The group rolled their eyes. I had been like this a lot since Joey, avoiding dates and just talking to guys in general. One of my friends was still pretty mad about a blind date she had set up that I had cancelled a little close to the call (an hour or so is okay right?) and snapped

“B, you are going on this date, so help me god, I will drag you there myself” 

I sheepishly agreed. Another one of my friends piped up. 

“B, do you not think you’r avoiding dating because you’re not really over Joey yet, maybe you should relax” 

“No” I replied defensively “Of course I’m over Joey and of course I am going on the date” 

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See, totally over it…

As the date night came round and I headed over to Sushi Samba, I was incredibly nervous and I had no idea why, I obviously do now, but at the time I put it down to the fact that Duncan was probably going to have teeth worthy of Jeremy Kyle episode. As I jumped off the tube and headed over to Samba tower, I received a message from him. 

DUNCAN: I’m at Liverpool Street station. Where shall I meet you?

Well, no time like the present. I responded, that I was in Liverpool Street too and within minutes, I recognised Duncan walking towards me. He was as hot as his pictures….. Lord! As he approached, my mind played a little mantra (please have nice teeth, please have nice teeth, please, please, please) – note. I am lol-ing at myself reading this. 

“Hello B” he smiled and there they were ….

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The most lovely set of pearly whites you have ever seen. His teeth were basically all I could see. 

Okay, so now we had established that Duncan was basically a dream boat, my neurotic brain could relax and finally enjoy the date. As soon as Duncan and I started to chat, it was so apparent he was one of the “good guys”. We had so much in common, the conversation flowed and I laughed a lot. Everything about the date (and Duncan) was lovely (even my gut told me he was a nice guy – it was also so right about this, as it is every time remember ladies – listen!). So why, while I sat with this gorgeous, charming, lovely man, eating amazing food looking out over the twinkling city sky, did I feel sad? I sighed, this would literally be any single girls dream and I just wasn’t feeling it. What was wrong with me?! (Turns out nothing wrong with me). 

The night continued to be my dream date and after Duncan paying for my dinner and Uber home (yes, ladies honestly and he point blank refused to let me contribute) As I sat on my bed at home I was overwhelmingly disappointed and frustrated that I just didn’t feel anything at all. Duncan was basically my perfect guy and I could tell would be more than kind to me. Why on earth didn’t I spark with him and sparked with some dildo crazed long haired man. Urgh – we always want the bad boys right?

The next day Duncan text me to arrange another date and I begrudgingly explained that I didn’t think it was the best idea. Turns out no matter how perfect someone is, no one can mend hurt, the only person who can do that is you and I had no intention of messing a nice guy around while I fixed that. When you’re not ready, you’re just not ready hey?

Turns out Duncan was as lovely as my gut told me and I would now class him truly as a friend. He is going to make one lucky lady very, very happy (just saying ladies he’s out there- don’t all jump at once). 

After my date with Duncan, I took some well needed time out before I got back onto the dating scene and will be sharing a post later this week about when you truly shouldn’t be dating (watch out for it). For anyone reading thinking of rushing back into dating following a chip to the heart, hold off, it’s not worth it – trust me speaking from experience! 

After taking a couple of months back for me and a some time off the dating scene, who would have thought a trip to a bar in central would lead me to meeting some one famous, which led to a famously bad date…

Thanks for reading again! 

B

x

 

Podcast Three: Cheating 

So ladies and gents, thanks for coming back and listening to another cast. Today we discuss cheating, covering boundaries, what constitutes as cheating, if is monogamy an outdated concept and as always our experiences and advice. Next week we are leaving it open to you guys as to what we discuss, feel free to drop me a DM on Instagram or a PM through my blog!

As always – Enjoy! X

The Comedians Final Curtain Call…

So ladies (and gents) thanks for coming back to say good bye to Joey. I can’t say I will ever fully understand the end of this story (laughing as I write this) but I think this post covers why you shouldn’t always trust what is said and why a player will always be a player… 

Following an early morning gym session, that had certainly overrun, I was rushing to the tube station to try and avoid the morning commuters (at 8.30 am the central line is what I imagine the entrance to hell looks like). As I basically threw myself through the closing tube doors (zero drama) I saw the reflection of a crazy, sweaty, curly haired woman and composed myself. Since when had I become a Londoner? I used to laugh at the people who ran for the tube when there would be another two minutes later… silly Londoners … now ….

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As I settled uncomfortably onto the tube, I felt my phone vibrate and I squeezed to pull it from my pocket (accidentally feeling up a fellow commuter). I awkwardly pulled up my home screen and my stomach did a little flip. 

MESSAGE: JOEY

Why on earth would Joey be messaging? Considering how unpleasant our last meeting had been, I was really surprised he was in touch. (Note, I love how cute and naive B at the time thought this was an out of the ordinary move from a guy.) Ladies, it turns out, sadly Joey isn’t even a one off – I have had return of the Mac happen with the Joey, my work wife AND “Sam the snake” (honestly, keep reading) and on every occasion as much as it never ceases to amaze me nothing ever changes. Guys coming back into your life is a little bit like those broken down, old ghost trains you used to ride at fairs as a child. You go round again and again, but it is still the same old “not so scary” ghosts that seem to re-appear. 

I don’t think a lot of people speak openly about dating and in particular the mistakes we make when dating. Hands up on my part, I have definitely let people back into my life that didn’t deserve or haven’t earned a place in it, so can firmly give the following advice

“Don’t choose some one if they have to think twice about choosing you”

Know your worth and if you see a ghost of the past heading your way…

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Anywhooo, I started down at the phone, unsure of how to respond to Joey’s message asking how I was. I hadn’t dated anyone since Joey and had actually missed the time we had spent together. What harm could one little message back do ….

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Joey and I’s chemistry reignited pretty much instantly over message. We chatted back and forth and updated each other on our lives. After a couple of days talking, it felt like we had hit rewind on the last three months, so I wasn’t surprised when Joey asked me out for dinner and as the evening came round, I was actually starting to feel a little nervous. What if it wasn’t the same? What if I didn’t like him any more? What if he had cut his hair short? (the horrifying possibilities were endless.) 

As I walked into the restaurant that Joey and I had agreed to meet in, I searched around for a familiar face when I recognised the long haired, tall, leather jacketed babe in the corner. It was super annoying how hot he was. He stood up, waved and smiled “Hey B” he said. It was then I knew… 

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Don’t judge me. It had been three months. Of course I was. 

Joey and I’s dinner went swimmingly, we chatted about anything and everything and as always I didn’t stop laughing. As much as I was still smiling in Joey’s company, there was still a small niggle in me that something wasn’t quite sitting right (gut ladies, listen!). However, I shrugged away my “off” feeling and put it to the back of my mind, I should just enjoy the evening, you know, “living in the moment” (Note. that was me convincing myself; I am definitely not a “live in the moment” kind of girl, I’m more of a “I like to know what moment this is? What this moment will do to me? And how long does this moment take” type). 

Anywhoo, as we ate, the conversation flowed and so did the wine. 

After updates on job, family and friends, the conversation led onto our love lives over the last 3 month. Joey asked me if I had been dating (and I hadn’t) I asked him the same question (I’m direct like that – surprise). Turns out he hadn’t either. Even the first time round dating, I had always thought Joey may have been a bit of a player, so the fact he hadn’t been dating and sleeping around assured me slightly. Perhaps he had changed… 

9 hours later…

My alarm bell rang painfully and woke me from what apparently was a very deep sleep. I sat up abruptly and felt the room follow my movements. WOW, I was hungover! I glanced around and knew immediately it was Joey’s room. 

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We all make them hey?

After excepting my terrible behaviour, I carefully crept out of bedroom to go and grab water from the kitchen. As I poured myself a glass to revive my headache, my brain went over the following evenings events. I didn’t know why I felt so off , but I wasn’t feeling overly happy that I had ended up here, but I had no idea why I felt that way. Joey and I had so much fun, but I still had that funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, what was that? He was such a nice guy and he hadn’t been seeing anyone else (not that it would have mattered either way) but least he had been honest. The door behind me closed and I jumped out of day dream, it was Joey. 

“Hey B” he said “I am heading off to work. Make yourself at home, you know where everything is. I will message you later” and with that he kissed me awkwarlfy on the cheek and shuffled out of the front door. 

I went back to the bedroom feeling a little perturbed. I sat down and started the attempt to tidy up my messy mane. As I brushed through the curls, my mind wandered, why had Joey been so sheepish? I started in the mirror 

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I admitted defeat, nothing was taming the mane that day, pony tail it was.

I looked around searching for one of Joey’s hair ties (yes I said that). I scanned around his desk, the TV stand and bed side table. No hair tie! I definitely couldn’t go outdoors with my hair like this. I pulled open the drawer of the bedside table and there is was ladies and gents… 

A collection of 10 beautiful sex toys.

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Yeah, I was as confused as you. 

I stared into the drawer and it’s contents. Erm… I wasn’t completey sure what was going on here. Now, ladies, when I say sex toys, I don’t mean a good old fashioned bullet or something like that, this was altogether different, there were so many and such variety. Toys, cuffs, sex tape, double penetration dildos! I literally felt like I had walked into a central Ann Summer store, I was half expecting a party rep to pop up and ask me how I felt about anal beads (just going to throw it out there – not great). 

This pleasure drawer certainly hadn’t been here last time I had stayed? And I was pretty sure Joey had said the previous evening that there hadn’t been anyone else?

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Seriously, could there be a more relevant gif? Answer – No.

Still majorly confused with the discovered dildo drawer, I needed second opinions. So, I did what any woman worth her salt would do. I took a picture and sent it to the girls whats app group. (obvs)

I don’t think there has ever been more unanimous “lols” recorded in any one group chat in the history of the world.

Not one of the girls could believe it, they had all liked Joey so much and now we were all trying to understand why one man would ever need to own more than one double penetration dildo (sentences I never thought I would write, entry one) . 

After chatting with the girls, I messaged Joey to explain my findings. I was greeted with the following emoji;

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Turns out, Joey had been telling teeny tiny little fibs. I got the usual excuses; “It was a one off” and my personal fave “You’re just too intimidating to tell”. 

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Duh, of course it was my fault.

Safe to say, it turns out no matter how much of a spark we had, Joey and I just weren’t each others “one”.

I guess he just wasn’t into commitment and me, well, I guess I’m just not into anal beads. 

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Luckily ladies, the next date in my diary showed me something a lot better than sex toys and I can’t wait to tell you all about it. 

Thanks again for reading! 

B x

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