#1 – “don’t text and date” date

First dates are usually always approached with slight apprehension, many questions will circulate in your head from the time you agree to go on the date right up until you finally get there. There’s the usual dramas of what to wear, what if he doesn’t like me, what if we have nothing to talk about and what will happen next. Let’s face it, when you are in the dating game, you are going on a first date with the eternal hope of it leading fluidly onto a second and then carrying on.  What I am about to tell you though, has no happy ending and all of the above dating fears definitely came true on this date.

So in-between date three and two on the countdown I went on date number one. The world’s worst date, with no comparison, the “don’t text and date” date.

After a night out in Birmingham when I was filling my face at Big Bite or Big Eat or whatever the food place on Broad Street is called (bright orange signs- I haven’t been in so long I can’t decide what it was called) I got talking to a man named Jon. (Again I can tell you his really name as I am one million percent sure you don’t know him and if by some bizarre chance this starts to sound familiar to a Jon you dated – I feel your pain!). He was tall, broad shouldered and had a decent enough face. It’s safe to say my previous type was based on this, if you looked like you could take a punch in the face well, that was a good start. To clarify that this was not another potential “angry sex cd” owner, Jon was wearing jeans, a light blue shirt and shoes. Not trainers, not a polo shirt, he was smart dressed, clean cut and well maintained. We had a chat, mainly him saying putting cheese on chips was an awful habit but we swapped numbers and off we went.

He text the next day, and after talking and texting I found out that he was from Essex, lived in Cheltenham and worked in Birmingham. He said he stayed in Birmingham most of the week to save the commute so he could go out for dinner any night. Again my work schedule was less than accommodating and resulted in the conversations dwindling. Every few weeks he’d text again asking if I was free and for what seemed months I never was. Well, that is not entirely true. The thing is while Jon was nice, even over texts and phone calls he came across as quite intense. He’d ask to see me then try to give me five ways around whatever my obstacle was. Including offering to pick me up from work just to give me a lift home so he could at least see me…(big eyes emoji) Now as flattering as that may seem to some people, it just came across as too much too soon and put me off, resulting in me delaying seeing him as much as could.

Persistent as he was though, the time came where- if I am honest- I had nothing better to do and he text at the right time. He seemed pleased that I was free so he arranged to come over to Coventry for dinner one night. What follows is the most bizarre date you will ever read. All I can say is that parts are graphic and parts are so unbelievable your toes will curl – and it will get worse. I have warned you to the best of my ability. So here are the straight facts.

By the time the night came for the date I was actually excited. I spent a good amount of time getting ready and then after I had played out all the usual dating questions in my head, he text to say he was outside. (Again notice Jon text to say he was outside- he didn’t knock. No-one ever knocks). I walked out in high heels and a floral dress, strolled over doing that slow walk us girls do like we are walking on ice because we are worrying we are going to stamp on a wonky paving slab and stack it and no-one needs that on a first date. As all single girls will know, some nights you feel your face is wonky, your eyelashes have gone wrong and you feel a sharp edge poking the corner of your eye all night and you worry that you’ve misjudged whether the bright lip you’ve gone for has smudged for the entire night. This however, was not one of those nights, I was reasonably happy with how my face went, my tan was streak free and I was feeling like the date was full of potential.

I’ve climbed into Jon’s Audi and instantly thought two things. Firstly, he was much better looking than I remembered and I was pleasantly surprised. And secondly, he had the most god awful blinged huge watch on which was bright blue and covered in Swarovski crystals. He said he needed petrol so I directed him to the nearest station, as I made polite conversation I noticed that he hadn’t looked at me since I got in the car. He started telling me about nights out where he was from, not that we were talking about that but he steered the conversation there so I let him carry on. He casually said “yea when we go out my mates will say, oh that girls fit, but I look and think they are plain. I like girls that look really stunning and stand out. I don’t want a girl that you can find anywhere, I’m really really fussy. The slightest thing can put me off.” Instantly I thought wow, that’s a blunt way to say “this was a wasted journey” and I won’t lie I was a bit disappointed. We got to the petrol station and whilst he filled his car up I went to the cash point. Being from Cov, as a female you get just to men leering at you, so when I came back to find that he hadn’t even looked up at me I was convinced that he was definitely not into me and he was not interested.

When he asked me to direct him to the restaurant I asked if there was any point, as if he already knew I wasn’t his type I may as well go home. But he insisted that he wanted to go for dinner, so off we went. We got a drink and sat down and he started telling me more about him. He was telling me about how he likes to spend his Saturdays shopping and drinking coffee, he likes to buy “penguin” shirts (which to this day I still have never heard of) and spend a few thousand on new clothes and going out each weekend. At this, I immediately thought that the watch should have been my hint he was going to be pretentious and I should have gotten out of the car right then. My face must of given me away as he was then on his phone messaging, forgetting where he was in the conversation with me and then trying to fill in the gaps of the conversation when he lost his trail of thought due to being on his phone by asking me questions, which he would also forget and end up looking at me like I was speaking a different language.

In an attempt to save the conversation I asked what he had done that day – then the date really went downhill. He said that he had re-joined the gym, when I asked why he said “well when I had a shower this morning, the way the shower in my ensuite in my penthouse apartment is, you get out and are straight in front of a mirror, and I looked down and thought my cock looked massive but my body could be better- so re-joined. I’ll get us another drink” and off he popped to the bar.

You might think this was my second sign to leave, I mean he’s basically told me I’m not pretty enough for him to date which he confirmed by not looking at me and constantly being on his phone, then he has directly mentioned his cock and stalked off to the bar leaving me to think over the first twenty minutes of our date and trying to figure out what was happening. I was that perturbed by it all I literally just sat there baffled.

Jon came back with drinks and as soon as he sat down he asked me where my phone was. This didn’t click with me and I simply replied, “it’s in my bag, I’m here with you why would I need my phone?” The conversation carried on and he asked about exes, I kept it short and sweet with no details – unfortunately Jon didn’t. He started to tell me about his ex. He said that it was a really sexual relationship with a girl he loved and he would have married her but she was intent on travelling abroad so he had agreed it was best to not get serious and she had left a few months before. He said he loved her because she had no real inhibitions, I was pulling another face (probably the emoji with straight lines for the eyes and the mouth) so he offered more information as if I was struggling to understand.

“Because we had decided to not get serious yea, we used to see other people as well, it was never an issue. One night my housemate said he really really wanted to sleep with her after hearing us having sex (imagine my face) so I thought, he may as well. I mean we sleep with other people anyway so I told him to just leave with her and I’d give it a few hours before I went home. I stayed out a few hours but when I got back they were in the living room, she was on the floor with him on top of her…”

In my head as weird as the story was I felt a bit sorry for him, how awful that your mate not only asks to sleep with the girl you love and you have to stay out of your house while they do it but you walk in while they are still at it. Then my sympathy faded faster than you could down a jager bomb as he carried on…

“So I went over and told him to let me show him how she likes it, bent her over and she was moaning in seconds, after a few minutes I stopped, went to bed and left him to crack on.”

(Horror scream face emoji and the sick face emoji – I have no words)

By now I had actually had enough of this date, it was going from bad to worst, and then he asked me if I had checked my phone. I pointed out I thought it was rude to spend time on my phone on a date, but got it out anyway. Jon was still on his phone and I literally was past the point of polite, I asked why when he had waited months to see me had he spent the entire time on the phone. His answer was again priceless.

“Ah sorry babe, this bird keeps texting me, I met her out last week, she just messaged me to say she’s fingering herself and wants me to come over to finish her off”

I was literally fuming, I told him not to keep her waiting on my account and that I was sorry I was such as waste of his time. By chance I looked at my phone and seen he had text me. Now I am not entirely proud of my reaction but I can guarantee I was characteristically not quiet. I asked why he text me, at which point he attempted to take the phone off me and told me to forget it and delete the message. I thought the little twat has text me by mistake, it’s clearly a text for his “little friend” that he wishes he was seeing instead of me. So I threw him a death stare and read the text. What it said simply stumped me.

“I think you are stunning”

Was he joking me? He had barely looked at me, he had told every story you would never tell especially on a first date, he had spoken about money, about exes and been a total moron messaging another girl through our whole date.

Needless to say I said most of the above and more, very loudly, and told him I was leaving.

I stalked out, now not bothered about walking overly uneven paving carefully- my anger would make sure I wouldn’t fall. I mean he made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for him, then had gone on about his sexual past and all the time had sent a bizarre message which contradicted the way he had behaved all night. I had no time for any of that. Then he pops up next to me, takes my arm and offered me a lift home, I refused obviously but then realised I would have to ring a taxi and walk back inside to wait, he said he was sorry the date had gone so wrong and said if I wouldn’t get in the car he would wait until I left to leave to be sure I wasn’t stuck there.

Standing there looking at him, he looked so vulnerable and I thought a lift home couldn’t be any worse than the date had already been. After all, I had been speaking to him for months and he had been so nice, I couldn’t believe how badly he had came across in person. So I got in the car – which was my worst mistake.

For a few minutes he didn’t say anything, he just looked a bit defeated, then it was like I was in the car with a different person. He started shouting at me, asking me what my problem was, why hadn’t I kissed him, why wasn’t I even trying to make any effort with him. I began arguing back saying that maybe if he had acted more interested in me and hadnt talked about money and his ex all night the date could have gone differently but he was just getting angrier and sped up. When I told him to slow down he was shouting he would rather drive us into a wall than me not want him, asking what was wrong with him for me not to want him. So I said that that wasn’t the case, I did think he was good looking, but he needed to slow down. By some miracle we made it to my house. Just when I thought it was over, he locked the doors and said he needed to talk to me.

He started telling me that everything with his ex was all for show, that he wasn’t as sexual driven as her but she was always want more of a rush. He said she came home one night and he was talking to his cousin and she said to his cousin, “get out I want to give Jon a blow job” they had been watching a pay per view fight on tv so his cousin said no, so she just did it anyway. So he was getting a blow job whilst sitting next to his cousin…

I was speechless. I literally had no idea what to say to him, I explained that I’m not really like his ex or like the girl he had met the week before and that I didn’t think we would work. He said he had came all this way and he wanted me to know how much he liked me. He said he wanted to see me again and show me he was a good person, I agreed saying of course we could go out again, but right then I needed to get out the car and go into my house, saying I had seen my Dad look out the window and it was only a matter of minutes before he was bound to come out to see what I was doing just sitting outside.

He unlocked the car and told me he was sorry for shouting and I carefully walked into my house waving and smiling before getting in double locking the door and getting into bed. He rang about thirty times on his drive home to Canterbury, left me voicemail after voicemail, some being normal saying it was nice to meet me, others shouting about how emotionless I was to have not even tried to touch him or comfort him. Needless to say I never answered his calls or texts again although my sister and I spotted his car driving past a few times in the weeks that followed, slowing down as he past my house.

What this awful date taught me was that money and looks count for nothing. Jon was seriously damaged and his ex-girlfriend was a girl of very loose morals. I still can’t figure out if he actually lived the elaborate lifestyle he claimed to, it could have all been standard line he used to reel off to everyone and he might of lived with his mum in a box room. Or if the ex actually existed either or whether he had made her up to come across as more sexual than he was. Maybe it was all true.

Again I’ll add that I didn’t think at any point that he would actually drive me into the wall, I was more concerned about what other sex stories I would be exposed to- that I could never erase from my memory. Jon definitely deserved to be at worst date number one.

So girls, if a man seems over keen until you meet him but ignores you when you do meet him, if he talks about money and labels you’ve never heard of and if he tells you about sex with his ex on the first date- you might have met Jon! I sincerely hope you have laughed and had your toes curl whilst you read this.

 

 

 

#2- “Perfect on paper- awful on CD” date

So it seems that some people are eagerly awaiting my next disastrous date story, I can assure you, you will take great pleasure in how awkward this one was. It may surprise a few of you that this date is number two on the countdown and not number one, but upon reflection the one I have chosen to be the most horrific massively outweighed this one.

Chronologically, this date was after the other two, so just when I thought I was over the bad dates this one happened. Now, if you live in Coventry you will know the nightlife is somewhat limited, so I will appreciate no judgments on the landmarks mentioned in this (sarcastic half smile face emoji) and remember being single in Coventry is not, I repeat not a Cinderella ideal.  By this is mean that everyone in Coventry knows everyone, we are not a small city but everyone you meet will either know your friend, know your friends friend or have already slept with half of the city (possibly including your friends and/or your friends friend).

Believe me with minimum effort you can find someone you know who will know everything about a potential love interests past and present. Usually this is a massive help as you can learn to stay away before you foolishly give your phone number out then have to deal with calls from withheld numbers at 1am for the next six months. However, I know some of you will read this thinking I am cynical, that the downside to listening to other peoples opinions on someone you don’t know  can completely cloud your judgement resulting in potentially miss out on someone you could have clicked with. But let’s be honest, usually it’s the former that turns out to be true, so I had given up men from Coventry.

Date number two on my countdown is my “perfect on paper- awful on CD date” – a highlight to most who know me as you will read towards the end of the tale of woe.

On the night I met date number two I was outside the highlight of Coventry’s nightlife “JJ’s” (again I ask you to reserve judgement). It was about half one and due my refusal to even attempt to speak to men in Coventry anymore (the week previously I met a “nice” bloke whose wife took great pleasure in messaging me at 9am the next morning to say “I’ve just found your number in my husband’s phone and a text to you at 3am saying he can’t wait to take you out, he wished he kissed you and you are mint – but he is married to me with three kids so he won’t be taking you anywhere”) I was standing outside watching one of my mate wrap up a conversation with another gorm who was potentially married with children and just out to play, all I wanted was chips, cheese and mayo and I would of considered the night a success. As I was waiting a regular looking man came over, for the record he was wearing REGULAR jeans and a REGULAR checked shirt (what he was wearing is important for later) and he asked me where was best to get food.

He was tall, thin but toned, paler than I’d like but he was a nice looking bloke, and had a soft Scottish accent. Again, if you know me you can imagine the face I pulled when he was talking like I was a minute behind on some sort of delay trying to pick out words I understood and figuring out the whole sentence. He said he was from somewhere in Scotland and was now living just outside Nuneaton, he was a web developer or something internetty, he hadn’t long moved from Chester or somewhere else far away and was out with a lad he knew from uni who was seeing a girl from Coventry. This was music to my “bored of Coventry” ears, he had the most vague connections to Coventry and there was no way anyone I knew would know him. (Looking back if they had it would have saved me the trouble – but as it is no one did, so I didn’t know what I would have know and so we have this story).

We exchanged numbers, he was the perfect gentlemen, helped me hobble over the cobbles of Spon Street as I showed him to the chippy, told me to put my shoes back on incase I caught diseases off the manky cold floor and after I left he sent a nice text saying he was glad he went out even if he spent all night watching his mate argue with his girlfriend as he met me….bless him.

After a few days of texting we arranged a coffee one lunch-time, which always annoys me as I don’t drink hot drinks and when it’s the middle of winter and you are ordering a coke in a coffee shop you are actually judged. Anyway, the casual date went well, as did the dinner date we went on the following week. The good part about having the two jobs was that you quickly see who was in the dating for the sort term, I was actively looking for a relationship, so waiting two weeks to see someone was ok for me, I could make sure they were really interested before wasting my time and we still maintained contact with texts and a phone call every few days. On paper (so to speak) Matthew was perfect, he was an open book, told me about past relationships and about his family. He spoke fondly of everyone with no malice or grudges held against anyone and seemed to enjoy his busy work schedule and was ambitious. He had no mental exes or children that he had abandoned and he liked me. What could go wrong?

I mentioned previously how unsociable my hours of work were, and its only just occurred to me at this point I haven’t gave this one a name! Due to the fact I am one million percent certain that no one will know him, I think I can use his real name, which was Matthew. So Matthew had asked me out for dinner one Friday night but I was at work until midnight, the only thing I could offer as I was concerned he was about to get very fed up of being told I was too busy, was that on Saturday night I was finishing at eleven, but we would have to go for a drink as it would be too late for dinner. He then said he would be happy to pick me up from work and cook for me and maybe I could stay over. Now, on one side I was thinking “hmmm cooking dinner at his house at eleven at night ” (teeth baring emoji) but the other side was won over by the nice bloke who had took me out twice, dealt with my work/life balance and was still interested in seeing me. So I agreed.

At eleven he picked me up from work and off we went to his house. As I remember I text two friends his address in case I didn’t return and gave his number to them aswell. I like to be safe (crying laughing emoji) and I had no problem telling him I was doing this – bizarrely I think he found my obsession with everyone being a potential serial killer endearing (sort of makes sense later).

His house was lovely, all original beams and open plan, clean and tidy, he had made me a cheese-pasta based dinner which is my favourite. We ate and chatted and me being the gorm I was on the hunt for a relationship dropped the fantastic line which I think saved me in this situation as the entire night could of gone differently else, “have you got any pain killers I have the worst period pains”.

Now you might think I was either evil for getting him to come all that way in the middle of the night then cooking just to drop the “nothing’s happening tonight mate” killer line but in all honest, whilst the line was a lie, I really wasn’t feeling it, I had just topped off my working week after being at  work all day on a stupid twelve hour shift, I got ready in the work toilet and spray tanned my legs on the floor by my desk with my head set on, which resulted in me staining the new floor tiles (this would be a hand over eyes monkey emoji if I actually cared about the floor at my then job, as it was it’s more appropriate to use the crying laughing emoji as I was only doing my spray tan in the actual call centre as I was concerned the smoke detector might go off in the toilets if I did it in there).  

To be fair he took it fine, he was sweet and got me tablets then we watched a dvd and went to bed. I was straight out like a light, again anyone who knows me will know I love sleep above all else (including a casual nap) and when I woke up I still thought Matthew was lovely, but had started to think that maybe we had no spark. His house was lovely, he had a nice bedroom, a guest room set up all in white (standard bachelor spare room with no pictures up and just a bed in with an ironing board against the wall) he had an office in the loft conversion with a desk full of paperwork, different bits pinned up on the noticeboard, photos of friends and family, clients business cards scattered around. Totally normal again and if I’m honest I thought he was slightly dull. He had mentioned his ex had mentioned he needed more hobbies, more spark but that he was happy as he was. We had breakfast and I noticed he was being a bit off. He wasn’t particularly vile but he was definitely in a mood and not the same as the night before.

He offered me a lift as soon as I wanted to go, which I took instantly. I only have one day off a week I was eager to get back to get my daughter and certainly wasn’t going to waste my time with someone being a drip (if I’m honest I thought he was fumes that I hadn’t slept with him which just proved to me I was right for using my pain killer line) an so we left.

In the car he put his cd player on the C-Lo Black song “forget you” started up and I couldn’t help but realise how far away this journey was from the one last night when the radio was on low and it was peaceful drive across the city in the dark. Now it was the cold light of day on a gloomy Sunday morning and the music was turned up loud and I realised it was actually the explicit version of the song that’s actually “fuck you” rather than the former mentioned version. I literally thought the journey could not get more awkward, I mean I haven’t slept with him, he’s now put this on and is singing along with extreme venom in his voice to a song with the line “I’m sorry I don’t drive a Ferrari but that don’t mean I can’t get you there” as he drives me home in an old matchbox car…

As you can imagine I have never wanted to get out of a car more and when I thought it couldn’t get worse- it did. I was looking out the window feeling awkward after the karaoke I had just witnessed which I can pretty much guarantee was at least partially aimed at me, when the track finally finished. I was hoping for something a bit lighter when the next tract started, I didn’t recognise the song at all but it wasn’t my sort of music, so after a few verses I made polite conversation (again I probably had a look on my face that portrayed exactly what I was thinking) and asked what song it was, to which Matthew replied with his eyes set firmly on the road holding the steering wheel with both hands and replied “It’s called I want to split you in two”. My instinct was to ask if there was anything else on the CD, he skipped to the next track and when I again asked what this one was he replied that it was Marilyn Manson. I am not saying that there is anything massively wrong with his choice in music, but I felt it was an inappropriate track list and he was looking exactly how the music sounded – angry and annoyed. I asked if there was anything on it I’d like and that when the fateful line that haunts my life and the reason I’ve been terrorised repeatedly by my friends since. His reply was simply this;

“This is my angry sex CD”

I was lost for words, I decided to just not speak while I tried to process this sentence, we got to mine I said bye and got out and still wasn’t sure what to make of it all. I mean what is an angry sex CD? Did he buy it or make it? When he picked me up the night before we had radio one on, was he not in the mood for angry sex then? What had put him the mood for angry sex that morning? Had I made him angry? So many questions were swirling in my head then he text me, below is the gist of the texts…( I apologise if this offends anyone- now is the time to stop reading if you are like I was sheltered to the world of angry sex CDs and worry you may be mentally scarred)

Matthew: I’m sorry I think you are a really nice girl but I don’t think we should see each other again

Me: Oh OK, I mean I won’t lie I prefer to listen to Britney but I wasn’t going to hold your taste in music against you…

Matthew: it’s not that Amy, I just think we are into different things and the things that I would want to do with you I know you wouldn’t do and I don’t want us to settle for less than what we really want

(I’m a bit annoyed now thinking hold on mate you don’t know me enough to decide what I would or wouldn’t do)

Me: OK well that’s fine but I don’t exactly understand what it is you think I wouldn’t do? I don’t want you to assume I’m a prude because I didn’t sleep with you last night. I might be fine with what you like – it’s not a conversation we’ve had

Matthew: Amy, honestly you’re a lovely girl but you wouldn’t– trust me.

Me: Well tell me what it is then

Matthew: well like S&M-  google this (then sent a bizarre website which I did not look on)

Me: No just tell me

Matthew: OK, like tying you up, using sex toys on until you cry, hitting you until you pass out whilst having sex with you- that sort of thing

Me: Yea you’re right that’s not my sort of thing. But surely when you met me you didn’t think I was like that?

Matthew: No I was pretty sure you weren’t and thought I could just be normal with you but I look at you and still want to do all that stuff and I could never even ask you to, so it’s best we leave it here.

Me: yea, you are right.Sorry.

Whilst this conversation has probably made you laugh or potentially horrified you, I was literally like “ah well” and carried on with normal life. It wasn’t until I made the mistake of telling people that I realised how bizarre it all was. I told a few friends over dinner one night, we had also been discussing The Human Centipede and they were quick to make the link to me becoming part of a similar experience if Matthew had decided to lock me in his closet and keep me until he found another victim. Another friend was quick to ask why I didn’t spot it straight away, when I asked why she explained that surely he was wearing a long black cloak when I met him and had make up and dog collar on (which as you remember I pointed out earlier he was dressed normally and I met him outside Jaks- not a sex dungeon).

After all the jokes and fears over the danger I could have been in, I still stand one million percent by  the fact I was always safe, he never made me feel threatened or pressured and once he realised I was definitely not his type of girl he told me and I didn’t hear from him again.

I did learn a few lessons though, mainly that just because someone isn’t from Coventry doesn’t mean they are normal and that the familiarity of everyone knowing everyone is sometimes something we should value.

For anyone interested, I never found out if he made the angry sex CD himself or if it was playlist that everyone who had angry sex has access to, but I’m sure you could find one if what Matthew is in to is really what you secretly are also into. Also, if anyone else went out with someone who had an angry sex CD please tell me it – to comfort me that I am not alone in this! 

 The number one spot on my awful dates will follow shortly- and I swear it really is the most awful date you can imagine EVER!

#3 – The over-keen “non-date” date

Back in my single years, it was no secret I was on the hunt for decent boyfriend. I could tell you a disastrous dating story more frequently than you’d order a dominos. However, the advice I would pass on would only help you if you happened to be unfortunate enough to end up on some of the world’s worst dates – which I managed to do (more than once).

Some of you reading this will already know these stories and no doubt will enjoy for a second time the god awful experiences that I suffered first hand. The worst of the dates can be fitted into a top three I think, the question is which one to use first. Everyone who knows me has a clear favorite but I feel I need to set the scene slightly so you can understand my frame of mind and try to remember that I am the most normal, regular, average girl. I repeat, after you read all the things that have happened to me over the last ten or so years, you will (as everyone always does) assume that there is something wrong with me that I attract all these extreme specimens but I assure you, it was never me, it was always definitely them.

So, the year the awful dates took place, I was 23/24. I was a single mum working two jobs totaling a 62 hour working week, I was massively limited to how I was going to meet people working 6 days and 4 nights a week and then spending my spare time with my lovely then 3 year old daughter. When I did actually go out and meet someone it would take me weeks, literally weeks to get a free night to see someone. So I think I’ll use this as the starting point to give you the first of the worse dates, kicking off with number three on our countdown we have the standard “overkeen non-date date”.

Through one of my jobs I was introduced to our number 3 – I’ll refer to him as Dave. Now many of you may have had a Dave date. So you can empathize on this one (but I doubt you will on date 2 or 1 of my countdown!) I had known Dave for a while, he was a nice bloke and had gone through a bit of a drama with his previous girlfriend. The main topic of conversations between us were usually about kids and how much he loved his ex, he had asked for advice a few times and tried to give steer him away of hideous ideas like sending her a rose everyday and more towards “giving her some space” after the reasons he gave me for why they had broken up.

Now in the kindest way, if Dave had asked me on a date, I would of politely refused, probably using the standard “I’m not really in a good place right now” lines and limited our friendship to strictly work based. Mainly because not only was he not my type, but he was constantly dripping about his ex, why would anyone agree to a date on these grounds? However, Dave did not ask me on a date, he said that he was really glad he had me to talk to and how much better he felt about things when I’d tell him to stop snivelling and give it some time. He followed up with an offer of a casual drink one night to thank me for being there for him and as I knew he was limited when it came to mates (as I felt like I was his bestie with all the advice and whinging) I thought “ergg it will only be an hour out of my life, I can meet him then go out after.” Simple eh?

So it was my first Friday night off in weeks, I had arranged to go to the local for a drink with Dave then was hopping off for a date with an old friend after, heartless as it sounds I was considering cancelling my pre drink with Dave to spend more time on my date hair. But I thought it was bad taste to cancel so late in the day so kept reminding myself it was only an hour. As I was finishing my rushed hair, I heard what I thought was a knock at the door. Now, if anyone has dated in recent years or in fact simply been a human in recent years, you will know that when someone is picking you up, unless it’s your long term boyfriend or a friend who wants to borrow something from your house, you would simply text to say you are there, at a push a phone call or if you are really impatient and it’s a reasonable hour you could beep your horn. But you would never, EVER get out to knock someone’s door.

At the sound of this knock interrupting me, I’ve looked outside and recognising no cars I’ve been forced to actually go to answer the stupid door. To my surprise, I open it to see Dave, looking sweaty and smiling in a slightly eerie manor, just standing there. Once I’d told him I wasn’t ready and sent him to his car to wait (no chance was he coming) I had to go back upstairs to get my bag together, I put on some flat shoes (more evidence of the non-date) and I was literally fuming he was ten minutes early and perturbed at the door knock.

I’ve gone out and still couldn’t see a car I recognised then Dave kindly pulls up outside in a car newer than his usual one, so once I’m safely inside and I’ve directed him to the local I ask about the car, he replies that he’s borrowed it from a friend as his was in the garage. Once we got to the pub we got a drink and sat down and I swear that was the last normal thing that occurred for the next hour.

Once we were sitting down Dave asked if I liked his shirt, I’ve gave him the once over and thought, (in the nicest most inoffensive way ever meant) is that from Matalan? It was a very basic bizarre shade of yellow with an unnecessary polo shirt collar (which was white) and some faded white number printed on it. Then came the first alarm bell, he announced he had been shopping that day and it took him ages to find something he liked, at this I asked if he was saving the thing he liked for a special occasion, he just laughed at me and this must have been when I made the first of my faces of the evening. Next, he made reference to the fact he was hoping his ex wasn’t in the same place as us, again I innocently responded something about it being hard to see your ex with someone else but that you get over it. The third awkward moment before I realised what was happening was after Dave came back from the bar for the second or third time, now remember I was only there an hour start to finish…

It dawned on me Dave was possibly on his third pint in the hour, when he returned and mumbled out- with the worst delivery you can imagine to an unknowing me, “the barman just said I’m here with the best looking girl in the bar”…AWKWARD.

My first instinct was to call him a liar (we all know the barman definitely didn’t say any such thing) but I’ve learnt that when you say these things sometimes people confuse you calling them a liar with what they think is your attempt to gain reassurance as if you are putting yourself down and that’s just even worse, so I brushed it off with a forced half laugh and asked Dave how many pints he had actually had now. Then it all went horribly wrong, he announced he was on his third since we got there and then a few before he came to settle his nerves. At this point it has dawned on me that the new shirt he bought that day was clearly this yellow thing, that he had intentionally knocked my door and he had been labouring under the misapprehension that this was a date.

Being the diplomat I am, I was straight on to this thinking I would casually drop in that I’m on a date after this and ask what he was planning on doing, which went down amazingly well (imagine the teeth baring emoji)…He was slightly angry, offended and clearly annoyed (whilst still being sweaty and constantly brushing his FRINGE upwards). He said he thought that we were out for the night and that we were going for a curry then into town, which only proved it wasn’t a date for me as that’s not anything I would even agree to. By now, I have sent an SOS text to be picked up asap from the pub, after a few minutes of silence I thought enough time had passed to tell Dave that I was sorry about the mix up but that it was only a drink as friends for me. You can imagine how hugely embarrassing this was as if I had realised I would never have let it get to this point. He seemed to be taking it well until I refused a lift home, I pointed out that he was massively over the limit and suggested he definitely doesn’t attempt to drive, to which he responded with the most awkward line of the night.

“Well I can’t leave it here, I’ve bloody hired it for the day, I’ll get charged if I don’t get it back early enough in the morning!”

I said my goodbyes and scooted off home to get ready for my real date. However the date continued to haunt me, at work in the weeks that followed anyone who knew us both asked how our “date” had gone, it appears he had told everyone he worked with that he was taking me out and had booked the day off as holiday so he wasn’t in a rush (Can I point out that whilst he thought all the above was “cute” I found it completely weird and over the top. Men- girls will not appreciate these actions you will just look mentally unstable- you’re welcome).

The moral here is simply to always check that both people agree a date is a date. I mean poor Dave had taken a day’s holiday, bought a new top, hired a new car and had pre-drank his nerves away to the point of putting him over the limit. And all for what? The only positive from this is I have a story for worst date number three on my countdown, I assure two and one are even more horrific by quite some lengths. So if you will be offended by sexual references or potential highly sore faces from laughing at my misfortunes – probably best to give the next few a miss!

PS for anyone worried about Dave we are no longer in contact, this will not reach him, I am not evil, they are not photos from our date and his name was NOT Dave (or is that a double bluff!)

No really he was not called Dave -sorry to any Dave’s reading this or people who know a Dave who may unfortunately be characteristically similar. 

 

 

Introductions will never be forgotten or forgiven

In life, you will be constantly introduced to new people. Sometimes, this goes fantastically well and afterwards you can rest safe in the knowledge that you gave the other person the best version of you, that they will look forward to meeting you again and that you didn’t manage to offend someone within two minutes of them knowing that you existed.

Unfortunately for me, in most cases I manage to be the girl that does offend people within two minutes of them knowing that I exist.

I am usually too sarcastic for my own good, forgetting not everyone was raised with a scouse Dad (who managed to instill in me the somewhat offensive “talent” of smiling so sickly whilst talking that most people didn’t relalise they’d been insulted until ten minutes after you’ve left) I follow up the sarcasm with a usual mix of downing more jager-bombs than is socially acceptable and I mostly end up either pulling unimpressed faces as my face doesn’t always co-operate after a drink or look plainly bored listening to the conversations around me and end up on my phone to pass the time. (Just a quick note, when you are looking bored at the dull conversation; try to resist the overwhelming urge bought on by the jagers to send comical snap chats of your “bored face” or laugh loudly at a whatsapp group convo thats been more entertaining than anyone you’ve met all night).

In recent times I would like to say I have gotten much better at this and just smile nicely and answer polite questions whilst staying sober. However the truth is when I am left to my own devices, my first fail safe way of making friends is to find a drinking partner on a similar wave length to me who always wishes they were somewhere else, if that fails I accept my fate and look miserable.

From this short view into my life, I’d like you to think carefully about your next step. Would I be the person you loved after meeting me, or the person you’d talk about on the way home for being too loud, too drunk and on her phone too much? The thing is, I’m the second person most the time (minus the drunk part) there’s obviously a lot more to me aswell, I have a 7 year old daughter, I’ve had the worlds most boring jobs but made the best friends, I’m getting married in a few months, I’ve had a stalker, been facebook cloned, been single, been heartbroken, had the most awful dating experiences, fell in love again and above all I have 27 years worth of life lessons that all usually have a disasterous story that will explain how I learnt my lessons.

We have the opprotunity each day to meet new people, this is my introduction to you and me giving you a view into my life, my ways of thinking and everything thats lead me to this point.

So follow the blog or whatever it is I am meant to tell you do so you can all read my blogs- which will all be better than this basic ratty one.

(Can I add emojis to this? Expression is not the same without an emoji…I’ll have to add a normal face instead…)