Tuesday 29 May 2012

Honesty is the best policy

Profiles:
As touched upon in date number two’s post, people who date online should be honest in their profile. When setting up a profile you get asked a series of questions. Now in the grand scheme of things wouldn’t it be better to be honest about your attributes, proud even?

Isn’t it better that someone sends you a message or invitation to meet up based on what you’re actually like, rather than what you would prefer to be like?

Lying about anything is only getting your online relationship off to a dishonest start. Trust me it won’t fare much better if you meet up and the lady realises she has been duped.

If you are using online dating because you’re looking for something meaningful then why start it off based on a lie?

Be proud of your laughter lines and a few extra pounds or your geeky addiction to star trek re-runs, if it means you’re not one woman’s cup of tea then so be it, at least you have been honest and in declining your advances (politely I hope)  so has she.

We’re all adults let’s have a little decorum!

About your date honesty:
Upon completing my profile I was asked to complete a section “about my date” what they would be like, look like, like doing, how many fillings they have and so on.

Personally I don’t agree in heavily filtering the men online by hair colour, eye colour etc. As far as I am concerned that process is for the type of women who, despite being single states that she…

“…will only date someone with blue eyes because I have blue eyes and then our kids will have blue eyes…” Oh shut up you daft bitch.

However everyone is entitled to have a couple of deal breakers and these you HAVE to be honest about. Do not waste someone’s time thinking that if you just try a little harder to like him more you might be able to date him. You should know what your deal breakers are ahead of time and lay them bare from the outset.

The Ex Factor
I think my own deal breakers definitely revolve around the fact that my most recent ex betrayed me with his ex girlfriend. I’m trying very hard not to let this develop into a full blown neurosis but it does mean that my personal deal breakers don’t leave much room for someone who has a reason or desire to be in contact with their ex. Personally I don’t have contact with ex’s, its the way I am so I’m looking for someone like minded.

London single girl's deal breakers 

Here's looking at your kids: It is not something I would ever do again, children are a bond for life, girlfriends come and go so if you’re not comfortable with dating someone with children don’t bother trying, you will, and quite rightly should, come third in line after the child and it’s mothers needs.

I do not hide this from my prospective dates, it’s clearly written in my profile – he should not have children. It doesn’t stop the single dads from contacting me and I do on occasion feel bad when I receive a genuinely nice message which I have to politely decline.

But as this is my blog I don’t have to be so polite and so let me make it very plain. Aside from the ex, the potential bunny boiling ex who is not past but very much present due to the fact that the man you are dating raided her womb and now they are biologically linked for life. I can think of nothing worse than spending my Saturday with someone else’s children. This occurring on a regular custodial basis is my idea of a nightmare.

Am I being prejudice against those with children? Yes
Am I being unreservedly selfish in my honesty? Yes
Is my baby making equipment as tight as an early learning centre trampoline? You better believe it, so sorry LadDads but this one breaks the deal.

For better for worse: Personally I would not date someone who has previously been married again. This is not because I believe that people should flog a marriage like the proverbial dead horse, never giving up until all that remains is the desire to murder one another.

Marriages break down, its a fact of life, but in much the same way as children are a tie to the ex, divorce is too. I know many people who can quite happily not speak to their ex-girlfriends but ex-wives, who have built relationships with their in laws and friends, can be much closer to home. The thought of being compared to “Dave’s” first wife constantly would be hellish. Unless the ex-wife turned out to be a complete cow and you, by comparison, look like a saint and even then I would be wary.

Having never been married or had children I would prefer that those kinds of experiences to be a first time for all involved, should it get that far, therefore if a man has ever said I do, then I have to say I don’t.  

So internet dating gives you the opportunity to be a bit picky, sort the wheat from the chaff and filter out those things which would stop you dating someone.

But it begs the question how picky is too picky?

Friday 25 May 2012

The messages you should not reply to

Couldn't resist sharing this little gem.....



I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss,
gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt.
Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and
cannibalising on my climbing partner to survive with 10,000 volt
shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to
caress your beautiful hair.

Whats your sign? What a line!

Now some people might wonder why a person would “resort” to internet dating instead of simply going out and meeting someone.

The first point I have to make is that meeting someone is not simple! Meeting someone by chance while going about your daily life is not necessarily going to happen. Aside from the fact that we do not live in the movies and people do not just walk up to you in the street, deliver a witty line and ask you out, randomly chatting up a stranger takes balls and not everyone has the confidence.  

I have been asked by a few people, usually married, why I don’t meet someone through friends, through work or whilst out sampling London’s nightlife. So for their benefit here are the reasons why….

Through friends…In the unlikely event my friends had an endless list of single men who were just dying to ask me out which they don’t (they have an endless list of men who wouldn’t mind styling my hair for me but that’s what you get for being a hag!) I would always be wary of a friendship group romance.

 When the going is good it can feel like an episode of friends. Your friends will be thrilled that two people they both like have got together. It’s easier on the friends too; they don’t have to meet your new love interest as a stranger and try to like them because they already have an established relationship with them.

But when things turn sour so do the friendships, friends are lost to you, the ones who don’t take sides don’t particularly want to hear you call the former lover a wanker, because they are after all his friend as well as yours.

I’ve been burned this way before, can you tell?

Through work…Now this is something I have tried in the past and whilst I do hear many success stories about eyes meeting over the photocopier the prospect of dating someone at work is terrifying. Not to mention there actually has to be a cute single guy at the office in the first place!  

 In the event that there is, the issue of establishing that there is even a mutual attraction is a tricky one.  It is all too easy to confuse friendliness and workplace banter with flirtation.  

Even if you do establish mutual feelings and decide to give it a go there are several potential hurdles. Should you inform your colleagues? People like nothing more than an office romance and the pressure could be enormous. Does your company frown upon or have a policy about workplace dating?

Then there is the potential split, if it doesn’t work out you still have to work together, see each other and be polite and professional. Dependant on the cause of the split this could be problematic if you want to smash his head in with a heavy duty stapler.

Worst case scenario you end up with an ex at work who tells anyone who will listen why you broke up, how often you shave your legs and the noises you make at the moment of orgasm. Worth the risk? NO!

Nightlife…This is the crux of my issues. I am getting to an age where, whilst I still love clubbing with my friends, I have realised you cannot meet someone who is more than just a dance floor snog in a nightclub.

Sweaty drunk men may seem attractive and their lines may be flattering after a bottle of pinot has been consumed but the quality of conversation or the prospect of being anything more than a Saturday night bunk up is a bleak prospect.

Recent opening lines of conversations in nightclubs have genuinely become something my friends and I have a competition over.

“I want to shag you” a memorable chat up line from a rather inebriated Scotsman
“I’ve got an eight and a half inch cock” from another drunken reveller, different bar, same night.

There were all delivered without even a hello, what’s your name, I’m going to pretend to get to know you before I try and get in your pants…

Even my boss has got in on the act after recently being asked the following in a club:

Drunk man: Are you married
Unimpressed boss: Yes
Drunk man: Happily?
Unimpressed boss: Yes
Drunk Man: So do you fuck about then?

It would be unfair to blame the above behaviour on the men I feel. Men tend to use a line or behaviour which has succeeded in getting them laid in the past, the same party trick, the same made up sob story. Whatever it is they do to “charm” their prey it will usually create a pattern which they will stick to throughout their lives. The point I am making is that the men mentioned above have been laid off the back of those lines before. So who is to blame for that?….The women!

The women who don’t expect a level of behaviour above caveman and who willingly drop their knickers and the prospect of eight and a half inches. Pull yourselves together girls, I don’t begrudge anyone a one night stand, we’re all adults and can do what we like but your lowering the standards for the rest of us!

And its conversations like this that have led to busy working women logging on and attempting to filter the bullshit. I would like find someone who has a similar interest and outlook on life who is actually looking to date someone.

Even if I were into one night stands (which I am not) going home with a “dancefloor man” will only lead to being shagged (badly) and kicked out of someone’s flat at silly O’clock because they have “stuff to do” (AKA meeting their girlfriend or just getting you the fuck out of their flat in case you try and make a romance of it)

So it’s not “resorting” or “settling” it’s an efficient use of time which would otherwise be spent wondering why some dancefloor dickhead didn’t call, plus it leaves you more time to go out with your friends…and shop for shoes….and bags….

Sunday 20 May 2012

This little piggy went to market

The next day I arranged to meet my second date.

Paul, 30, Marketing Manager

Our messages had been nothing more than playful banter so I didn't have his life story yet but he seemed funny. After the previous night's mild disappointment I thought perhaps, now my nerves had subsided, this date would be better.

Thursday, Trendy Bar, 6.30pm.
Paul was decisive on the venue, a trendy industrial space bar in Liverpool Street. I rather liked the fact that he had already decided where we were going , it showed confidence.

I arrive at 6.20 and head straight for the loo to freshen up and ensure my make up hasn't had a party on my face since I last looked in the mirror.

I am less nervous than last night, and careful not to expect too much from this date. Paul sends me a text to say that he is running late...

Lateness: WTF?! I understand that white knights do not exist and chivalry is all but dead however two dates in two days have been over 10 mins late. Unless this is some ploy of internet dating I'm not aware of then it is just poor manners.

Paul arrives and I have to say I am probably not in the most generous of moods due to the fact that I have been sat on my own like a lemon for ten mins. Warning...this next section will sound cruel...

Paul looks nothing like his photo, Paul looks like someone stamped on his photo with a shitty boot. I'm not even convinced the photo of the attractive smiling man was Paul.

Have I got the right Paul "IS THERE ANOTHER PAUL HERE?!"

Gent's if your hairline is present in your pictures, do be a dear and bring it along on the date, I'd hate to think of it sat at home alone eating beans from a can whilst you're out gallivanting.

Paul is also lot shorter than he said, now I don't really care about height, I have dated someone shorter than me and it never bothered me. What is bothering me is Paul's bullshit profile. I know some men have problems with measurements (the inability to measure 8 inches for example) but this is just taking the piss. If your 5 foot 7 just put that on your bloody profile. You, my friend, are not six foot.

He offers me a drink which I feel bound to accept. There is no way I could be so rude to someone as to say "I'm sorry I know bugger all about your personality but it's looks I am really going for" and so the date begins....

We make banal conversation for what seems like an eternity (realtime 15 mins) we've both recently visited the same UK holiday destination and talk of the pier filled five painful mins.

All the while I am wondering exactly how I can leave when he starts talking (quite randomly) about the pension reform. Now I work in a job which requires some knowledge of pensions, It would not be my mastermind subject, or in fact a subject I would choose to talk about on a date. But apparently that's Paul for you!

What followed was an uncomfortable conversation about the in's and out's of the pension reform and why my opinion was wrong, this then progresses to the Euro and why Britain should not and will never give up the pound. I don't think I have ever been so fucking bored in all my life.

 I make a mental note never to get dragged into a conversation regarding politics or religion on a date ever again. Especially by some prick who seems to think it's my idea of a fun evening to listen to him drone on about the squalor state of our beautiful country.

I told you I was getting annoyed...

I hold my own in the conversation but only so far as I can be bothered, frankly I haven't cared what this man thought of me since he walked in and now I am nearing the level of irritation I usually reserve for my siblings at family gatherings.

Now before anyone gets up in arms about this I have a rule. My rule is that if you go on a date and the man buys you a drink, you buy him one back. We wanted all this equality and now, for the most part, we have it. I don't think it is acceptable for a girl to expect a gent to pay for the first date, or for her not to pay her way.

However it is now 8pm, Paul has nursed this first drink for almost two hours. If I buy a round I'm going to have to sit here for another two and I cant, I just plain cant.

I tell him I am going to have to leave unfortunately due to my trains only running every hour in the late evening. Paul tells me he is walking in my direction, could this escape route get any worse?!

As we walk down towards the bank of England I invent a short cut to the station which involves a long walk away from Paul's direction.

Saying goodbye was difficult because Paul refused to take his right hand out of his pocket. Therefore my outstretched hand was left out there alone...embarrassingly Paul made a twitch as if to move toward me, presumably for a peck on the cheek. I then grabbed Paul's left hand, shook it and told him it was nice to meet him, before crossing the road, narrowly avoiding being hit by a cyclist.

Now I am aware I probably sound cruel about him however if Paul were honest in his profile about his height, his current looks as apposed to a photo taken ten years ago he may have met with a woman who appreciated him for Paul for himself. What Paul actually got was a woman who was pissed off that he had kept her waiting, been deceptive in getting her to go out with him and essentially wasted her time.

Next time this little piggy might just stay home...

Saturday 19 May 2012

Teacher leave those kids alone...

I’ll call him Stuart…. After several messages exchanged via the dating site I decided to bite the bullet and meet with my first date.

Stuart, 31, school teacher.

Stuart has interesting hobbies, a cute profile picture, he volunteers with children for fucks sake. On paper he sounds like a sweet, caring, interesting man.

This single girls heart may have said "ahhhh" but luckily I still have my head.

Wednesday, 7.30, local pub.
I have given myself the “what’s the worst that could happen” prep talk. It has not worked; I am terrified. What if he thinks I am ugly, what if he see's me and leaves...what if...what if....

If the inevitable insecurities eating away at me where not bad enough Stuart has text to say he is late.

Lateness: This can happen to anyone but it does give a bad first impression, always try to be early.  You shouldn't leave a woman sitting in a pub alone waiting for you.  

Once he arrives I am sorry to say he does not look like his profile picture. Not to say that he is ugly, my eyes are not bleeding, but he is not the boy next door his picture denoted.

Stuart is nice. That’s the perfect word to describe him. He is too nice. Now I am aware that this is a harsh review in a world where the battle cry of women everywhere seems to be that “all men are bastards” 

However I thrive in the company of someone who is witty, sarcastic and opinionated. I have a slightly dark and judgemental view of the world. I get the impression Stuart takes the raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens approach to life.

One thing on the date left me in a constant state of suppressing a giggle. It was the way Stuart spoke. Someone who works with children for a living obviously has an adopted way of speaking but I am 27, and I swear, sometimes a lot.

Stuart spoke to me as if I were an eight year old. At one point I had to excuse myself to the ladies. I'm pretty sure holding back all that laughter gave him the impression I was constipated.

After two drinks and 2 hours spent talking about jobs, the quality of school dinners, the heavily opposed sex education for schools, it’s abundantly clear that neither of us is interested. We say our goodbyes, he kindly offers me a lift which I decline and I make my way home.

So the first date wasn't totally awful, he wasn't a monster or the rapist my mother had feared would kidnap me on sight (Mummy-single wasn't too impressed when I told her I felt sure he would give me back within 3 hours)

And so, on my way home, I am pleased to receive a message from another website contact inviting me out the following evening. After all the first date wasn't totally horrendous so as the song says

...things can only get better.....




Its all in the preparation...

A few thoughts on setting up an internet dating account:

When choosing a user name I think it’s usually best not to try too hard to create an impression with it. Any username attempting to reflect that you are blessed in the penis department will only cause embarrassment on your part later and, I should imagine, disappointment on hers. I settle for something which depicts nothing but my own name. I am after all not Crazee_barbie_slut85.
As for profile pictures, these should be honest but well considered. You might as well call yourself sledge_hammer_dave and be done with it when you post a picture which gives the impression that if you have not already been to prison it’s only because they haven’t caught you. A smile costs nothing gents!
After the tick box marathon I uploaded some recent pictures of myself which are flattering but not deceptive and send my information out into cyber space to be judged by other single people.
In my case this judgement of others takes place in my bedroom, glass of wine in hand, wearing some very old pajama’s. The thought occurs to me that if you can converse with someone in this way before actually meeting them then I’m going to save a fortune in date outfits.

Friday 18 May 2012

Once more unto the breach

One thing to know about this single girl in London is that I am normal. I am average looking, I have an average IQ; I have bad habits and faults. I’m not afraid to admit it. I do not, in short, have the looks of Angelina Jolie or the delusional self-confidence of certain Daily Mail columnists.

What I do have, as so many girls do, is the belief that one day I may meet a man who I would like to spend more than just a little time with. Someone I may even wish to live with, perhaps even marry and live the modern day happily ever after with.

*Not to be confused with the traditional happy ever after, the modern day version includes discovering an affair via a social network, a mudslinging custody battle, a harrowing divorce before starting all over again, this time armed with a therapist. Not that I am a pessimist.

After the end of my last relationship a colleague suggested that internet dating might be a fun way of meeting new people and if nothing else would pull me out of the breakup slump I was in danger of remaining in.

And so I kissed goodbye to £29.99, a little bit of self-respect, and signed into one of the more popular dating sites.

What follows is the harrowing tale of a single girl in London…