This week I witnessed a truly god-awful date in the restaurant where I work, reminding me that not only have I not been on a date in an embarrassingly long time, but also of how painfully awkward they can be. The story is this: I was serving a couple who had met a few years ago, and had then been reunited on the dating app: Plenty of Fish (POF), the boy hand’t stopped pestering the girl for a date and eventually she gave in. I wasn’t fully aware of the situation until Nelson, our lovely barman, informed me that the female half of the date had been coming into the bar at every opportunity to get away from the male half and bitch about how awful he was. Before this discovery I had mistaken the fact that the couple were sat in silence, both on their phones, to mean they had been together for many many years and were bored of each other. When I went to take their payment, said boy scooted off, leaving the girl to pay their bill, and me and her to have a gossip. Apparently he was rude, arrogant, and both a conversation-ender and lazy conversation-maker, and to top it all off, had accepted her polite offer to pay the bill. This girl had been having such a bad time that Nelson had actually found her online on POF during the date itself, and sent her a cheeky “You’d have a much better time with me” message… time will tell if he makes a better impression.
Ok I take it all back, there’s more to Fabio than met my eye on our first date. I wasn’t expecting much from date number two, but I was pleasantly surprised. Here’s a little play-by-play of our date:
So i’m driving to his house to pick him up for bowling. I’m wearing sk
in tight black jeans with a skin tight black top and…. I need to fart. My pre-date logic says, fart-away, having that gas in my tum is only gonna bloat it out into what I call, The Front-Bum (I hope I’m not the only one to experience this). In any case, more farting = flatter tummy.
But, dates don’t lead to relationships, do they?
I had a shocking realisation last week, whilst listening to a radio feature about dating. The DJ introduced the topic, “last week we talked about the end of relationships, breakups, so this week, we’re talking about the start of relationships: first dates” I snorted, how ridiculous to suggest that a first date would lead anywhere. Its 2016 and we don’t live in a rom-com. But as I came out of my cynical, seasoned single twenty-something stupor, I realised, she was right, at the start of all relationships, there has to be a first date. But surely I can’t be the only person who’s constantly going on first dates yet not finding constant relationship offers?
Last night I went on a blind date with someone who I already knew I didn’t fancy. Ok so it wasn’t technically a blind date, I had met him for about five minutes in a pub a couple of weekends ago. My friend Jen was seeing his best friend, James, and had gone over to the group of boys, asked who was single, and who fancied me. Nate answered yes to both, and my fate was set. Jen gave him my number and me my marching orders: “be nice to him, you can’t show me up” and a list of questions “does James like me, does he date many girls, is he seeing anyone else” and so on.
Detective Alexa to the rescue.
Continue reading “How to survive a blind date that you wish you were blind for”
the holy fail 