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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Podcast five: Is dating just a game?

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My Grandma has been by far the best person to give me advice on dating and men; the reason why? Back in her day, there weren’t any dating apps, there wasn’t any whats app heck, there wasn’t even public transport. As such, it took a lot of effort and time to “court” someone and you would have to have a lot of free time to be dating more than one person.

In this day and age, with the introduction of tinder, bumble, happn and if we are honest living in a culture where any person is disposable, has dating just become a game? As always we give our opinion on the dating game, players, if there is an end goal and even if you go get into a relationship, do the games stop then?

Enjoy X

 

The Work Wife: Taking a Sabbatical

Hey guys, thanks for checking back in to hear more about the work wife. In this post we meet (the first) little ending in Henry and I’s “friendship”. In this post, I learned as a first point, why boys sometimes don’t make very good friends and, well, why some boys…. welllll, they never quite grow up. Enjoy! 

After a couple of gins at the bar and being ignored for the majority of the evening, I did what any woman worth her salt would do and walked over to Henry to ask (and when I say ask, for anyone that knows me, I mean demand) why my friend had spent the majority of the evening ignoring me.

Henry was pretty drunk by this point and if I am honest, the excitement of meeting drunk Henry had depleted massively that night. I had decided that I really didn’t like drunk Henry, where was my mate that I chatted to about anything and everything? It certainly wasn’t this annoying guy. After calling Henry out on being off with me, I was further surprised at his response…

“You don’t like it do you?” he asked (evidently more than a couple of drinks down) “You’re not used to not getting attention” 

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Eh?

Okay, now I was confused. had Henry spent the night ignoring me to get attention…

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Whut?

I mean, I suppose it had worked, for totally the wrong reasons and all, but still, a badge for trying. I tried to understand Henry’s logic, I mean, he knew he totally wasn’t my type (and being honest more than likely I wasn’t his). Was it kind of cute that he was trying to get my attention? Or was it kind of weird? Turns out, drunk B didn’t make the right decision and leaned more towards the side of endearment – wellll, it was kind of sweet in a weird kind of way (don’t judge me).

Luckily, that evening, drunk B didn’t make any life choices that would be deemed poor or detrimental. Even drunk B understood that sleeping with someone who sits next to you all day everyday probably wasn’t a good idea…

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Really? A good life choice? Well done drunk B!

Anywhoo, a cheeky kiss was all that happened that night and I have for sure seen worse things to happen on a works night out, in fact, some of the Christmas parties that I have been witness to, a kiss is pretty damn tame.

The next day in work was a little awkward, not so much for me, but I was actually pretty worried about Henry, he was practically melting in the corner.

As slightly awkward as the first day back was, after a couple of days chatting and going for our breakfasts, things quickly got back to normal.

And, honestly, that’s where I thought H and I would probably tail off. However, it turned out Henry had other ideas, despite my disinterest in anything other than friendship (at that point).

As a couple more months went by, Henry and I continued to hang out and as time went by, our friendship went back to the way it was, if not better. I would talk to him about pretty much everything and (I think) vice versa.

H’s actions still continued to be sweet, he would send me links to blogs, asked for advice on friends. tell me about his family and would never let me put myself down (which is what good friends do). All the while, H was being sweet, he would still hint around taking me out, it was pretty endearing but I was always pretty blunt in my response; that I was dating other people, he wasn’t my type and that work relationships weren’t a good idea. It still never seemed to phase him asking again. 

Anywhoooo, one of the weeks in that couple of months, Henry went away on holiday and as Monday and Tuesday passed by, I had this weird feeling, did I kind of miss him?

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Surely not, it was H, I shrugged it off. But as the following Monday crept round… I couldn’t admit it to myself, but I was kind of looking forward to him being back in the office…

When he arrived back, I was actually excited to talk to him about his week off and throughout the morning kept peeping over wanting to go for breakfast…

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Looking back I actually giggle. Who was I kidding, I, for sure, had a crush!

Finaaaaaally, we went for breakfast and grabbed a coffee. As we chatted away, H pulled out his phone and there were a few bumble notifications. Me…

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Okay, maybe I was a little jealous.

And that basically confirmed it for me (as if it didn’t already), I officially liked Henry.

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Life choices, depleting at a rapid rate of knots.

Anywhoo, me being me, wanted to be pretty up front about my change of heart and one day on the tube journey in, H jumped on at Oxford Circus and I decided to let him know that I would be up for a date. H…

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I mean, for all the times he had joked and asked me, I don’t think he expected that one morning I would actually agree to go on a date with him.

Anyways, following the “big reveal”, H and I started to spend more time with one another outside of work and I really enjoyed it. It was just like hanging out with my friend except we kissed and held hands and weird stuff (which was never actually weird). We would text constantly and now instead of thinking it was annoying, I actually liked his stupid late night messages and calls.

After a great few dates, H really surprised me one weekend when he asked me round to a house party at his place.

“I really want you to meet my house mates” he chatted to me over the phone. “It will be fun and you can stay over” I hadn’t officially stayed over at that point.

Anywhoo, the weekend of the party came round and after packing my bag, I dropped H a message to let him know I was leaving when I received the weirdest response.

“Hey B. So kind of an awkward one, there is a girl here that I dated for a little while”

I shrugged it off, meh, people date, people stop dating, sweet that he was thinking about me though.

“No worries” I replied “No big deal, I don’t mind :)”

There was a pause in the reply

“Yeah, you see, I kind of ghosted her and didn’t really give her an explanation, so it could be kind of awkward, maybe you and I should just head out to a bar”

Okay, so I was a little pissed. Firstly, if there was a girl there he didn’t want me to meet, I was a bit confused as to why he had invited me in the first place and also, I really disliked the fact he had ghosted another girl in general, it was pretty immature and you know the leopard spots saying ladies.

Anyway, I responded that I was pretty pissed and within an half an hour, we ironed it out and I headed to his place. When I finally arrived at the party, I then realised why Henry was being annoying. Drunk Henry was around….

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I hadn’t seen drunk Henry since the work night out and after him playing games and basically making an all round muppet of himself that evening, I can’t say I was particularly excited about the night that lay ahead.

When I arrived, we headed out to a bar and I realised H was even further gone than I had initially thought. I was feeling pretty agitated by this point. Why was he such a boy of a weekend? And why such a show off in front of his mates? It was such a contrast to the person I knew. We got to a bar and grabbed a bottle of wine. Chatting with H was pretty difficult by this point, he kept making silly comments and if I’m honest, wasn’t making much sense. As he slurred conversation at me, I think he could tell I was a bit miffed.

“B” he said sincerely, finally an apology…

“I’m never going to be that guy that panders to you. You’re used to having people wrapped round your little finger and I’m not that guy” (This was accompanied by him drunkenly whirling his little finger in the air).

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Seriously?

At that point, I got a bit mad and I think even H realised he was being a bit of a muppet. (Or maybe he didn’t, your guess is as good as mine).

We headed back to the party and luckily H’s ghost victim had left. We spent the rest of the night with his housemates (who I actually ended up having more fun with). H got less amusing as the night went on, after witnessing him flash his best mates girlfriend, down multiple drinks, run round in a Hawaiian shirt and then to end up in some grim night club in central Clapham, it was safe to say the night was an anti-climax (in every sense). It was official, I was dating an over grown toddler…

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The next day on the way into work was an awkward one. I wasn’t feeling particularly fond of H and he didn’t seem like he was going to be buying me flowers and apologising any time soon (he just wasn’t that guy).

As we got the tube in, Henry was super quiet and I knew something was off. This feeling continued over the next couple of days; we didn’t go for breakfast and we messaged less and less. Luckily, I was heading off to Dubai and was fairly distracted from the awkwardness, but still felt like something was totally off. After asking H multiple times “What was up?” and receiving the same “Nothing” response, you can imagine my reaction when I received the below message 20 minutes before boarding my flight…

“B, I have been thinking about stuff and I have decided I’m going to take a sabbatical from work and go do a ski season. The weekend made me realise I am just too selfish and you deserve better”

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Give H his due, it was a fairly tactical move on his part. Tactical in that, I couldn’t get off a flight and kill him for his stupidity around whole situation.

When considering this sabbatical, hadn’t he stopped to think about  the fact we worked together? Or taken our friendship into consideration before behaving like such a boy and jumping into bed with me. Evidently not….

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Anywhoooo, turns out you can’t stay upset for long when you are sat in Dubai sipping cocktails on a beach. I was grateful to get on the flight and not think about how awful the office was going to be the next week.

After arriving back from my holiday, seeing H in the office was super awkward and reiterates our advice on why work relationships aren’t always a good idea (check out our podcast on this very subject). It took a while for me to stop being mad at H and for anyone that knows me, I’m a fairly heart on my sleeve type person, so it was no secret in the office I disliked him…

Looking back, it was actually quite amusing. Henry would come in the office and and say “Good Morning”. Me…

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Henry would make a great suggestion in meeting. Me…

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I joke, but you feel me.

Anywhoo, it took a good few months for H and I to rekindle some form of friendship but eventually we somehow managed to and I was pleased for him when he booked his ski season.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I wanted to believe it, there is a saying “boys will be boys” and as you will find out in posts further down the line, before jetting off to live as Peter Pan, H manages to turn our “sabbatical” friendship into an outright sacking…

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Honestly, I have no idea how Wendy coped with all those lost boys!

Thanks for reading again!

B

x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Work Wife

So ladies and gents, I was a bit unsure of where to start with the little saga of the work wife and I, so I decided to go right from the start. There are many a learning I took from my “friendship” with my work my wife, the overarching being that work involvements nine out of ten times are a bad idea and why some boys, well, l they’ll never grow up … 

I felt grateful getting off the central line at 8am, I had realised that the hour commute in was the equivalent of what I imagine running a marathon would feel like; hot, sweaty, uncomfortable and uncalled for. I looked up at the sky and it was as grey as the apartment blocks and offices along the walk to the office. Life had been pretty boring recently, training was samey, I wasn’t dating and as it was winter nights came in quicker, London definitely wasn’t as fun.

As I sat down at the desk in the near empty office, I realised I was pretty bored by most things at the moment. After being in London for a year and half, the night life had become pretty boring and I found myself asking myself if London and my job was what I wanted to do long term. I am pretty sure that most of us hit that point approaching 30 (but a post to come on that soon) where we feel a little unsatisfied and unsettled, but I brushed it off at the time.

As I sat down at my desk and the office started to fill up, my manager reminded me we had a new starter in the office that day, meh. Like life recently, that one had been a little bit of an anti-climax. A colleague had teased the girls (me included) in the office that a new guy, a bearded tattooed beaut (to be specific) was joining our team. Well, you can imagine…

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So you can imagine the girls (and my) disappointment when I tweed blazer laden, curly haired, quiet guy came in for interview.

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The guy starting in the office was called Henry when I had interviewed him, I had found myself being more interested in what was happening in the Starbucks than what was being said. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was kind of cute, not really my type (FYI, not a requirement in an interview) but just seemed a little quiet and well… a bit boring.

Any whoo, Henry starting in the office wasn’t interesting or distracting. I gazed round the desk and my eye was caught by my friend Hannah who was chatting to a cute guy from finance at the end of the table. Hmmm, I suppose that was slightly more interesting. I was a little worried about my friend Hannah, she had had a particularly rubbish time dating and Sam (the finance bod) sat at her desk every day, I could see, probably wasn’t going to help with that. I generally got bad vibes about him as he seemed to be accompanying one girl after another around the office, like a chinoed pimp. I mean, give the guy credit, he was pretty dreamy, if you like that whole preppy Clapham look (I don’t). I would chat to her about that another time.

As the afternoon came round, I had managed to get through all my emails and was a little bored. Luckily, it seemed the rest of the team had got a similar vibe. I had a really great team at my old work and when things quietened down, the banter was always fab. That afternoon was no different. Jokes flew around the table (usually me being wound up by the boys – you know who you are) and I noticed quiet Henry in the corner not saying a word, jeez, I knew it was his first day and all but crack a smile hey? At the  time, I can’t even remember what I said, but I definitely picked on Henry a bit and I’ve never quite seen anything like it, but…

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I felt pretty bad, I didn’t mean to make him perspire at the rate of Niagra Falls. I backed off and let the poor guy get on with his work…

Anyway, the days and weeks passed work continued to be boring, as did my new colleague Henry. I had gone past the point of feeling bad about teasing him after a couple of days and carried. He eventually had come out of his shell more and actually cracked the odd joke. As I was saying, it was a pretty average morning again, when my Skype for business popped up….

Henry: Fancy Breakfast?

Meh, sure, why not? I headed down for breakfast with Henry and we chatted about the weekend. I was surprised when he told me he had a really heavy one, he didn’t strike me as the type whatsoever… 

He asked me what I had been up to and I told him I had spent most of the weekend blogging and training, he asked for the link and I sent it to him over email. From then on Henry and I started having breakfasts most mornings, he was actually a pretty sweet guy and over the next couple of months, I actually started to class him as a friend. We talked about work, family, the weekends (his and I’s were rather different) and I still couldn’t quite grasp the reserved super cool guy I chatted to every day being this wild party animal. 

Anyway, I told Henry about my disaster dates, he told me about his heavy weekends and I always thought it was sweet when he would sent me links to blogs I would like.

And we definitely flirted .. A lot.

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I mean, come on, when the office is boring, a bit of harmless flirting doesn’t go a miss.

It was weird, as Henry definitely wasn’t my type, in fact, with the partying, far from it, but what’s that thing… where you start to fall for your captor? Stockholm syndrome? (lol, I joke) but you get me.

Anyway, after a few months off dating, I had begrudgingly re-downloaded the apps and been on a couple of non-dates, you know the one’s I mean…

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You wish you’d stayed home instead.

One morning the night after I decided to stay in and write, instead of wasting my time with non-dates, I got a message through on Facebook at 8am.

HENRY: “HR Specialist”

What was he talking about?

Eeekk, it then twigged, he had seen me on a dating app. Always a little awkward with colleagues, then again, it was Henry, oh well.

“Hey!” I replied “Bumble? And why are you awake so early? Pondering life again?” (something Henry did on the reg).

Henry replied explaining he had been on an “absolute bender” (lad) and had blown £200.

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The dots still weren’t quite connecting here for me. He just didn’t seem like the type. We continued to chat and he moaned about having to go out and party all day again.

“You don’t have to go out again if you don’t want to” I stated quite matter of factly.

“Yeah, I do, I’m that guy” he responded.

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I sent the emoji violin, no sympathy, you are made of your own choices. 

“I prefer sober Henry if I’m honest” I replied.

“You know it!” he responded.

I went offline. Still. didn’t. get it.

The next weekend, Henry interrupted my morning with a new dilemma. Drunk Henry had been a bit of a fool and tried it on with his housemate. Okay, so I had to laugh, drunk Henry was turning out to be a bit of a wide boy. Luckily, the next week, a works night out was on the cards and I was pretty sure drunk Henry would make an appearance.

Sure enough, the Thursday came round and the team were out for drinks. As always, work drinks on a Thursday got out of hand and before 9pm coffee patrons and tequila’s were out. I chatted with the girls and after a couple of drinks, went to try and find the boys.

Through the evening, I had chatted with the boys briefly but hadn’t managed to catch drunk Henry (although had caught him looking over my way a few times). Finally, I managed to wave down the boys and went over (to know doubt be teased buttt it was fun – like having grown up annoying brothers) and catch up. Henry was there and given how much we spoke out of work, I chatted excitedly to him. It was then, Henry behaved in the strangest way…

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He totally blanked me. 

Surely that was a mistake? We had all had a few drinks, we chatted all the time. He had no reason to ignore me. Anyway, as the night went on, I realised, it wasn’t a mistake at all.

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Every time I tried to chat with Henry, I would be met with a blank. For anyone that truly knows me, being ignored is the worst for me! I am too open and honest to understand stubborn people.

By the end of what should have been a fun night, I wanted pizza and had a face like this…

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I had no idea why my friend was being so rude and finally, after being ignored for the 10000 (not dramatic) time that evening, I went over to confront Henry.

And the moment I confronted Henry, ladies and gents, is where the work wife and I started on our bit of a saga.

Looking back, that night, I was being played like the violin emoji I had joked around with earlier and turns out, it wasn’t just drunk Henry that was a bit of a fool, sober Henry actually came in a close second… 

Thanks for reading and enjoy the next post! 

x

Cal the Criminal

Hi guys,

Thanks for coming back again and sorry for the slight delay, LA has been too fun! Enjoy my next disaster date, this was one of my faves…

Following a slightly painful start back on the dating scene, my faith certainly hadn’t been restored in the world of love. I was now a year and half down the line of being single and as I am sure you can well imagine, had become fairly skeptical as to if there truly were any good guys out there. I had deleted any form of dating app in my phone,I think most people tend to have a bit of a love hate relationship with them anyway (check out our podcast on apps) and was extremely cautious as to who I was willing to go on a date with. After spending a night with a TV presenter that basically made me never want to watch TV again, I had made the decision, that unless there was one hundred million percent something there, I would not be going on a date. As such, I hadn’t seen a date in while. 

So, I am sure you can imagine my delight when on a night out in Liverpool Street, the tallest darkest most  handsome man came over to the bar. All of the girls (me included) swooned as he walked by and for the first time since my last disaster date, I have to admit, I was pretty giddy when the tall dark handsome suited stranger bought me a drink and asked me out on a date. 

Turns out my dreamy drink buyer was called Cal and as we chatted over drinks, Cal became more and more of a catch. He was out celebrating his last day working as a commodities trader in one office as he had been headhunted to a larger organisation to take over a bigger portfolio. He lived in Notting Hill, but was staying in a hotel in central due to moving to his new place in West. Now, I know we shouldn’t have tick list ladies, but so far…

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As the next weekend came round, I was looking forward to meeting Cal again, he had actually been pretty charming and seemed (dare I say it) normal to talk to. I met him at a bar in central and as I shuffled my way through the busy entrance, I caught a glimpse of him, already with a table, looking all chiseled and hot and stuff, with my glass of processo already on hand (what a dream boat!). 

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I cozied up on the sofa next to Cal and felt relaxed as our conversation was great. He was so easy to talk to. We caught up on our weeks plans and was excited to hear more about his new job. 

“So” I asked “Tell me more about the new job” 

“Ah” he said, sipping his processo “Well, technically, I haven’t actually got a new job yet. I have a restrictive clause in my contract so have to wait until that runs up, but I just know  the bigger competitor want me”

I eyed him, I work in HR and know that a restrictive clause doesn’t stop you getting a new job. Not quite as he had initially explained, but hey, maybe it was drunk talk when we had initially met, although we had been speaking over whats app most of the week and that hadn’t been mentioned.

I shook it off and picked up the bottle of prosecco to pour myself another glass, I was slightly surprised when a trickle of bubbles dripped into the remainder of my glass. The bottle was empty. Had Cal nailed a bottle of bubbly before I had got there?! I had heard of first date nerves and all, but if I had done a bottle of prosecco before a date, I wouldn’t just be relaxed, I would be asleep, no doubt nursing a pizza box. Cal must have seen my look of surprise on my face (as I do not have a poker face) and ordered another bottle to the table. 

As the date and conversation continued, I was now quite aware of how quickly Cal could put away a prosecco. After another bottle was turned upside down in the cooler (in this time I had managed half a glass), I decided to slow my sips as I watched Cal start on another bottle. 

As quickly as the prosecco was going down, Cal was also knocking out some revelations that he had failed to mention over the course of the week. I asked him what he was doing the following weekend… 

“Ah, I will probably just be looking after my son” (second fail to mention). Now I have nothing against people having children but was fairly surprised as Cal continued. “Yeah” he sligthly slurred “He’s a great kid, I can’t believe he is starting high school next year.” Ladies Cal was 25 at the time, his kid was nearly 11. You do the math. 

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As the conversation continued, more revelations followed. After establishing that Cal was unemployed, had a child he had failed to mention and had evidently been a little promiscuous in his early years, we then moved onto the subject of hobbies… 

“Well, I have a fairly interesting hobby and I’ve actually made money from it for a while”. Ooo, now that did sound interesting; who doesn’t love an entrepreneur? I am all about doing what you love and what a bonus if you can make a profit from it! Turned out (just like Cal) it wasn’t quite what I was expecting… 

“I play Poker, semi professionally” Okay, so some people may think that is cool, but honestly, it just did nothing for me, I don’t even know how to play and with a face like a story book, I can’t imagine that I would be much good either. I tried to sound interested… 

“Wow, that is different” polite but not false response. “How did you get into that? I asked. 

Cal continued… “Well I actually couldn’t drive for a little while and struggled to get a job” 

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I saw where this was heading… 

“Oh” I responded, perturbed. “And why was that?” Need I even ask? I knew what was coming… 

“Ah, I was actually banned from driving” I took a big gulp of prosecco. 

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“Oh” I said, trying to sound relaxed (totally not relaxed). “Drink driving?” 

Cal looked offended at my question. “Good god no!” he responded as he nailed down another prosecco. “It was speeding, I was doing 90” 

Ah, not as bad as I thought…

“In a 20 zone” he finished. 

There we go, 90 in a school zone..

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Well, at least Cal’s drunk revelations had yet again confirmed that dating in London was basically a trip to the circus where I could have my pick of who’s who from the freak show. I sipped my prosecco and wondered if other girls had this kind of luck dating, Carl continued to jabber on about his speeding and how it was difficult not to speed in Audi RS4 (chav). I was done being polite… 

“You do know you could have killed someone and lucky you didn’t go to prison!” I snapped. 

He leaned back and as smoothly as he had talked in the bar when we initially met dropped the line.. 

“Yeah babe and I certainly don’t want to be going back there” 

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And that ladies and gents was the end of that date. 

After a year and a half of dating, it was official, I was done with it. Following Cal, I actually spent a good few months to myself and was genuinely a lot happier alone than I was dating (we’ve all been there). It is actually rather amusing when you are single, that your married/long term relationship friends treat you like a pity case “You will meet some one when you least it expect it” or “Don’t worry, you have time” 

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I remember one day in the office, a colleauge came out with a great line. “Why don’t you try falling for your best friend? Or go for someone outside of your usual type?” 

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At the time, I though my friend was being beyond dumb. Surely, if I had any guy friends where we had thought there was potential, both parties would have noticed by now? And why would I fancy someone who wasn’t my type? Turns out, that was exactly what happened next. 

The next couple of posts (and another to follow later down the line) are all about my Work Wife and the little saga that will always ensure I give the recommendation not to date some one from the office….

As always, thanks for reading 

x

He’s just not that into you.

So ladies (and gents). It’s been a busy week recording another podcast and keeping up with posts. Despite being busy, I did manage to fit in some “me” time (a whole two hours!) and watched a film that is a classic favourite of mine.

“He’s just not that into you” 

Watching the film really made me giggle but I’m sure resonates with lots of girls (and guys) in that, sometimes, that is indeed quite the truth. (As much as we all hate to admit it!) . He’s just not that into you.

As well as watching my favourite film, I also scanned a few dating blogs to look for post inspiration, I have to admit, I was a little disappointed! 

A lot of posts talked about…

“How women should behave when dating.”

“Are we too keen?”

“Not keen enough?”

“When should we text?”

“Should we leave mystery?”

I was beyond agitated reading reels of posts and I struggled to comprehend how other women could write and encourage other women to change who they are and how they act with the purpose of pleasing another human being.

Personally, I would rather spend the rest of my days with just little old me and my buddies than change myself to make another person happy. (However, pleaseeeee, don’t give yourself a hard time if you’re not in that place right now –  it does takes time). 

I came to a conclusion that unfortunately, we all have such a fear of rejection, that we guard ourselves with game playing, commitment issues, dating apps and many other things. 

But seriously, has anyone asked the question…what is so bad about rejection anyway?

Naturally, we seem to have a tendency to automatically blame ourselves when another person doesn’t “want” us – I used to be that person. 

Now, I actively encourage myself to challenge that mind set and I would challenge you to do the same. Someone else’s perception of us doesn’t define the truth and on a lot of occasions it’s actually not our issues at all but mainly the other person who doesn’t “want” us problems.

And just sometimes there is the blinding reality- “they just aren’t that into you”. Don’t take it personally, as my Grandma tells me “plenty more fish in the sea”.

So instead of telling you when to text, when to hold back, how to behave and how not to (bla bla bla) I’m going to share with you the five best reasons that my girlfriends and I have been “rejected” so hopefully you can laugh, learn and move on, it happens to the best of us! (Ps. narrated with Disney as always, Peter Pan felt apt based on boys flying off to never grow up).

1.You’re just too good for me 

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If this is the excuse someone uses to stop dating you then they’ve hit the nail on the head. You are too good for them. 

2.I’m just not ready to settle down yet but let’s just see how things go

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Ohhhh, so you know that you don’t want me, but you do want to have sex with me? I’m good thanks. Boy bye. 

3.I really haven’t found myself yet, I need to travel you know? Just do me.

Off you fuck then Peter Pan. 

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4.You’re amazing, I’ve never met anyone like you before, but, you see I have this girl in my life and things haven’t been right for a while, it’s complicated…

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You’re right, it is complicated IN YOUR HEAD, not mine. Run ladies, run a mile otherwise you’ll end up being that poor girlfriend. Trust me!

5. Monogamy is such an outdated concept. I want to see you, but want to see other people

Babe, I know its confusing as I’m a queen, but you’re not Henry 8th. 

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Ladies, these are the funniest reasons that we have been “rejected” but we discussed and laughed about many more.

Remember, men are natural-born one-uppers. If there’s a possibility of upgrading what they already have for something better, 9/10, they will. So, if you are rejected by some one who can’t see your worth, suck it up, you’re worth more than someone who can’t see your value; keep on being you. The right man (that 1/10) will come along, sweep you off your feet and not fly away!

And if he doesn’t, so what? From memory… I don’t think Tinkerbell or Wendy ended up with Peter? Didn’t he end up in Never Never land, with his mates, never growing old, looking through Wendy’s window…. Disney had it right all along….. 😉

Enjoy ladies and keep being fabulous x

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Pod Cast 2: Dating and Love in the LGBT world

Pod Cast 2: Dating & Love in the LGBT World

Today, we are chatting about dating in the LGBT world. As this is something that neither I or the girls can give a direct insight to, a very lovely and inspiring friend of mine came along to chat. My friend is a strong influencer in the trans community and has talked to us about his transition, journey, societies views and of course the sexy dating scene. While discussing the above cultural views we somehow end up on the topic of peak dick pic times, how fun it is to be subservient (or not) and why it’s totally okay to end up sleeping with your college teachers room mate… honestly! Enjoy x