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

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Joey the Joker

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

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

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

Hope you enjoy the ending ….

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

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

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(Eye roll emoji at naive me back then).

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

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

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Not so much.

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

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

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

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

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t do this B”

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Couldn’t do what? Now I was confused…

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

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

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

(note the bold ladies).

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

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

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

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

Joey walked out and the door closed behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks again for reading

B

x

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

Tinder Take Two: The Surgeon and The Show Off

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

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

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You feel me…

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

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

TOM

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

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

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

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I digress …

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

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

“Joey”

“Sam”

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

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

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

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

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I swiped to the next profile and smirked to myself…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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You girls feel me…

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

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Now that last one was silly…

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

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

“You better be too” he jibed back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Playing it cool as always…

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

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

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The rare spark!

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

Thanks for reading again!

B x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Google Guy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading 

x

To Tinder or Not to Tinder

So this post (as well as more of my London story), focusses mainly on the app we all know – Tinder. I wanted to throw my thoughts out there around dating through Tinder (I will update on other apps in later posts) before telling you about my first experience with the dating apps. For anyone who is braving the dating scene or those who are a seasoned singleton’s and this app is merely part and parcel of your phone content; I’ve given some brief thoughts, experiences and hints and tips around this app and what my personal advice would be (and remember this is just my personal opinion);

What is it all about?

Tinder is the common red flame that flies (the red flame) for us singletons. For anyone who isn’t aware of tinder. This is what it is all about…

Tinder is an app that helps you match with people based on five or six pictures and a short bio. You can base your searches on age, sex and location (the modern and slightly more creepy ASL of our era. Some one bring back the simpler days of MSN please?). Once you have input your high level criteria, Tinder will then supply you with a plethora of potential profiles to match with. Once these profiles have been generated you then make a decision as to whether you would like to swipe left or right (left – not for you, right – they are for you).

Once you have matched, Tinder will open up a forum in which you and your match can strike up conversation. All makes sense in practice right? Well, here are some pro’s and con’s on the reality of the app…

Pro’s and Con’s

Pro’s 

If you are a busy individual, Tinder is a great place to arrange dates. People are there for the same purpose (to meet people). It is easy to set up, easy to use and I have heard of quite a few “happily ever after’s” that have initiated through Tinder. If you are looking to meet people, are new to the area or just generally want to “get back out there” it can be a great starting point.

Con’s

At one stage, Tinder was my “go-to” to arrange dates. After three years of being single, the appeal is faltering fast and this is not just with Tinder, but with most (not all) of the dating apps. If I am being totally honest around cons of dating through apps, my first con is around how boy’s treat the apps vs. girls. Now, I have a lot of fab guy friends/family and after numerous interesting and hilarious conversations, I have come to the conclusion boy’s basically do this…

Now, that certainly isn’t a generalisation but you know what I’m trying to say… A second con (or observation) is around how a dating apps make you feel as an individual. Me personally, I am a bit of a softie and I am not super confident, so having another person base whether they like me (or not) on a few selfies and a bio probably isn’t great for my own self esteem. Also (this sounds super silly) but  messaging someone and not getting a response is a little bit like going in for a high five mid air, only to be left hanging.

Don’t get me wrong using the apps for a while was fun (as you will see) but call me old fashioned’ I much prefer the interaction of a real life human being in a bar, my most successful dating stories have come from meeting people out and about over apps. Pictures can’t paint a chemistry nor can it paint your hilarious jokes and from personal experience it is far easier to explain to a guy face to face that you write a dating blog than over message without him thinking you’re a complete crazy person (they would only be half right)

So my advice, as a seasoned singleton, if you have a self confidence made of steel and aren’t aren’t in a vulnerable place, Tinder is a great place to start dating. But, be warned, I have had my share of horror stories from using this app, so maybe notch your “Prince Charming” dial a few levels and get ready to have some fun as well as cute stories to tell and always BE SAFE!

Happy Swiping!

Anyway, on with the story…

A few months down the line from Matt and a good few nights out with friends, I was already starting to feel better that not all men would be like him. I spent my time investing in myself (I will be posting about healthy break ups soon – so keep an eye out if you are post break up!). After experiencing the stress relief I had felt when I went out on my “post-Matt” run, I had started at a local gym and was hitting it 4 times a week. I was also doing what any lady worth the salt of her rebound would and shopping (usually beyond my means). Life was feeling better as I was developing a tight friendship circle and my anxiety levels following my new work out regime was at an all time low.

After a long week at work and the summer drawing in, Mini and I were spending Friday night doing our usual; getting dolled up in bathrooms at work to embark on our Friday night drunken adventures. As we scuttled around the bathroom performing the act of contouring and lip lining, we chatted about this evenings choice of location. As we are both East London based we usually stay this side of the river. Shoreditch and Hackney are particular regular hot spots. I rarely venture south of the river (the dark side), there are a couple of mistakes that loiter around there and for how big London is, I never fail to bump into them. As we regularly frequented Shoreditch, we decided to stay local (which we hadn’t done before) and embarked on a “Revolution”. I had memories of Revolution Bars from being a youngster up north, memories that I would like to erase, but non the less, pushed down my apprehension and headed out into Liverpool Street.

It was only 6.30 and the bar was already packed playing music loud enough to drown out Mini and I’s conversation. As we walked in, I quickly realised that this evening would be different… in front of us lay a sea of suits (and basically half of the population of Essex).We made our way to the bar (which was a struggle in itself) and after managing to order a bottle of wine went to locate our group and a spot that we could settle in.

The drink were flowing and after adjusting to the noise (I am not 80 years old – honest!) I started to relax and enjoy myself. Looking around; Liverpool Street Revolution was extremely different (and not one of my favourite places if I am being honest). The ceilings were high, marbled floors paved the room and an over-indulgent chandlier hung from the roof. Whilst chatting to the girls, I looked around the room and started to find myself amused by how similar the boys in this place were. Clones of Colchester surrounded us and after a while would start to drift over to the table. After a couple of visits from suits, I realised that the boys were actually replicas of one another and all had a very similar (not so affective) approach.

“Awight Giwl” was the generic greeting. Translation: “Hi beautiful” With a lean in revealing matching pocker-chief tie and if you’re lucky – socks. After the super smooth greeting and a smoothing of the Essex combover; you will then be immersed in hearing more about this catch’s job; he usually works in recruitment, IT sales or trading and is super successful (not a graduate), if the job isn’t enough to impress you; the fact he has been to Marbella or Vegas this year certainly will.

Anyway…

Following a few more bottles of wine and lots of dancing, the night picked up further and the bar continued to cram. We decided some colourful sugar loaded shots would be the thing to continue to spice up the evening, in reality they just made me feel a little sick. As we continued to dance, I suddenly felt a creepy hand on my waist. Hoping it was Miriam, I turned around and in front of me stood a short, Spanish man in leather jacket. Although it was highly offensive that he felt it appropraite to grab a strangers waist, give the man credit, at least he wasn’t in a suit. I awkwardly shuffle danced (you all know the one) back towards the girls, politely declining the charmers advances. Now usually the shuffle dance AWAY from somebody usually sends the vibes that you aren’t interested. Luckily, I have a talent for attracting the best of the best and as such my shuffle dance did not deter short Spanish gent.

He pulled up beside me and in his strong Spanish accent slurred”How are you beautiful?” (whilst continuing to try and put his mitts on my hips) I recoiled. Ew! “I’m great thanks” I replied in the most mono/dis-interested tone I could conjure. However, Spanish man clearly was a fan of the chase (imaginary or otherwise). He continued to talk at me and did not take the hint even when my friends tried to intervene. After 10 minutes or so and basically downing a glass of wine; I was starting to lose patience and when he turned, I quickly took the opportunity to bolt through the crowd. I thought I had finally made my escape when I felt

“Ahh – pretty lady – where are you going, you no want a kiss from me?” he slurred as he pulled me back towards him.

Okay, I couldn’t take this anymore, I pulled my hand away…

“Stop” I hissed and held up my hand like some deranged and drunken power ranger.

As I paced back towards this girls, frustrated by the ordasity of the Spanish creeper (what boy honestly thinks this is okay). I was suddenly halted in my tracks before I could reach my group by a curvaceous Latino looking lady. She pushed my shoulder and in a stronger Spanish accent than the previous Spaniard I had already been subjected to this evening shouted..

“Ey-a skinny lady, why you dis-a-respect by baby brother eh?!” Had I unknowingly stepped into an audition of Anime Latino?! Drunkenly (and certainly not sensibly) I stood my ground. “Well, yes” I raised over the music. “He is just won’t leave me alone, so, yes I am disrespecting him. Okay?” following this response, I also did something that I have never once in my life done before and clicked my fingers at the end of my sentence (Don’t ask, I don’t have an answer for you)

My white girl whip further infuriated the Latino sister, who then began to shout (what I’m going to assume meant bitch or something along those lines) in Spanish at me and advance on my “skinny white ass” (as she so kindly put it) Luckily, I started to back up and got back to my group of girls (thank the lord for the awkward dance shuffle). Following my return to the group, the Latino lady and persistent brother finally retreated. Breathing a sigh of relief after the brief stand off. I decided the only cure was another wine from the bar.

I walked back over to the large marble bar, with my drink order in tow, I was about a metre away when I tripped over a giant umbrella (classic smooth move from your truly). Flustered, drunk and pretty much done with the evening, I recovered myself, what moron would leave a giant umbrella in the middle of a bar I thought to myself.

“Hey! Sorry about that” I looked up at the umbrella perpetrator and felt immediate forgiveness. The owner of the umbrella was 6”2, suited in a classic tweed number (with no sign of matching accessories in sight), he stared over his cute circular glasses “Are you okay?” he asked.

I tried to recover from my embarrassing fall, by flicking my hair (which then whipped him in the face).

We started to chat (turns out a lonely umbrella and blinding someone with a whip of your hair is a great ice breaker). I remember very little of the conversation. He told me his name, his job, about the fact that he had just broken up with his long term girlfriend and even through the drunk haze; I could tell he was pretty cut up about it (boys have feelings too you know). After more shots, dancing (and a cheeky kiss), we decided to call it a night. I took the Umbrella guys number and this is where I will take a moment to emphasise why meeting people in a bar supersedes apps. Nothing ever happened romantically between Umbrella boy and me, however, he is now one of my close friends and I can always rely on him for advice and giggles. The first example; BETTER IN BARS!

The next morning, my head felt the familiar dullness of a hangover. Why did I never learn? As I lay hungover in bed I felt what we all felt in that vulnerable state, the overwhelming need for a cuddle. I flicked through my phone to distract myself, when a small forgotten red flame caught my eye. Now I’m not sure whether there was something was in the air that morning (or I was feeling needy with a hangover) but I opened the app and started to swipe.

As I swiped, Tinder quickly reminded me of why I never used it. As I swiped through and matches popped up; the underwhelming messages and cheesy one liners bored me. I turned to grab water from my side table and as I leaned over my head felt fuzzy. Why, oh why had I mixed my drinks. Wine, shots and then the gin, why gin? Ugh.

My phone buzzed and brought me back from drink-fuelled day dream. I had a Tinder message;

Tom

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“Currently the only love in my life is Gin”

Ah, gin. At least we had one thing in common. I flicked through his pictures; he was really cute.

“Come on then Miss Funny. Tell me a joke” the message from Tom read. (The Miss Funny comment related to my unimaginative Tinder bio). Truth was I couldn’t be funny on command and after explaining this to Tom, we went on chat (quite a lot).

Turns out Tom and I had more in common than just gin; we liked the same Netflix series, movies, chicken wings, boost chocolate bars (all the important things in life obviously). He had a pretty cool job working for Amazon and after our conversation; we arranged a date for the following week in which I could prove myself as funny,

The following week, date day came around quickly. Through the day, I was in meeting after meeting and skipped lunch (note. this is not great pre-date game as you will soon find out). When 5pm came round and after a standard quick change and spruce in the work bathroom, I walked over to Liverpool Street station to meet Amazon Tom.

After the busy day, I had completely forgotten that I was going on an actual date and this was my second ever real date (I had always had a boyfriend before) and as I walked over, the pre-date nerves set in. What if he didn’t look the same as his pictures? What if we didn’t get on as well in person? What if he asked me about fat fetishes? (the possible disasters where endless) as I turned the corner to our meeting location, I looked around to try and spot Tom’s face when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, caught off guard and out of nowhere a gust of wind blew and disheveled my hair that I had just brushed into precise place. And there stood Amazon Tom, granted I hadn’t expected to meet him looking like a confused member of Fraggle rock, here we were face to face. He looked exactly like his pictures, in fact cuter with his little geeky glasses and laptop rucksack. “Hi!” he said (his accent was cute) “Are you okay?” he asked noticing my flustered appearance. “Yeah I’m good thanks, I think I was a bit lost” I lied. Tom laughed. “Yeah it can be a bit confusing with the two entrances right?” I smiled a little uncomfortably, first dates can be so awkward. “Here” he said rummaging in his back pocket, he handed me a boost chocolate bar and (like the chocolate would) I melted and all of a sudden I wasn’t nervous anymore.

Little was I to know, that a lot of things were to come of this evenings date that I would never have dreamed of. Turned out my first Tinder date was going to take an unexpected turn and that Amazon Tom would become a bigger feature in my dating life than I initially imagined….

Thanks for reading again and I hope you enjoy the next post when you can find out exactly what happened on mine and Tom’s first date (gulp!)

B

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