Right so I’m definitely not even close to being some kind of dating guru, but I always thought there was at least a general dating etiquette.
Simple things like don’t be a complete fucking arsehole. Standard yeah?
Bad dates are run of the mill, I expect that.
I don’t even mine when a date goes tits up as it’s always something to laugh at the day after.
This was a weird one though, I’ll tell you from the start.
I met this guy, he seemed nice, funny, a decent job and more importantly, not a fucking psychopath.
He asked me out for a drink, I said yes, pretty run of the mill.
Then, before we have even been out for the first drink he sends a few frisky text messages that clearly suggest he thinks that after one drink in the pub, that will then lead straight back to Lilli B’s bedroom.
Sorry mate, not happening.
I told him this fact straight from the offset, I wanted there to be no crossed wires.
He was NOT coming to the boneyard.. Not tonight anyways.
So, first date night arrives.
I’m meeting him at 7.30 at some bar in East London, as I can’t be arsed going home first, I met up with my housemate Loren for a few beers to settle the excitement.
I hadn’t heard from him this whole day, which was kinda weird but I let it slide, I’m not about to start going berserk to soon. I’ll just see him tonight.
7.30 comes and me and Loren are a few pints in and I have still not heard from him.
Loren (the massive twat) was in her element laughing heartily at the fact I had clearly been stood up.
Laughing along myself I genuinely wasn’t at all upset, probably because I was half cut and was more looking forward to sending an abusive text when I was 7 times more inebriated.
7.45 comes and I had accepted my fate, launching into a tirade of abuse to my laughing Samaritan all of a sudden my phone buzzes.
It’s HIM. The Bastard.
‘Tell me you’re not standing me up? Xxx’
‘What? Me? Where the fuck are you, I’m in a bar next door to where we were supposed to meet and you haven’t text me to say your here x’
‘Well I’m IN the pub we were SUPPOSED to meet in xx’
‘Oh, erm okay. Come here anyways I’m comfy now J xx’
Surely in this day and age, a simple SMS is just standard procedure to confirm you are on your way no?
He didn’t seem to think so, never mind that’s fine he was on his way.
As Loren dragged her coat on to run out the pub door, he was on his way in.
He isn’t 100% my type but with my trap record, fuck it, I’ll give it a chance.
I jumped up to greet him, gave him a little peck and then announced I was about to wet myself and darted off to the loos.
Luckily for me, he quite liked my scattiness..
He even makes a little comment and my ‘weird ways’ which irritated me somewhat but I fought the urge to nut him as it’s out first date.
As the drinks flow and we move in closer on the sofa, a few kisses were exchanged and lots of laughs were had.
Successful date yeah.
‘Do you want to do this again sometime?’ He asked me.
‘Yeah sure, when you thinking like?’
‘Tomorrow?’
SHIT, bit keen. But in slightly drunken daze I say yes.
In the taxi home I remember that we have a house inspection due from our bell end landlord and I have to hide any incriminating evidence that will show him I secretly have two mega fucking berserko cats living there.
I text him to advise of said situation.
‘Well I can’t say I’m not disappointed but let’s do Thursday?’
Still a bit soon in my eyes but fuck it, I had a good time so why not.
From leaving him Monday night to half way through Thursday day, I had received numerous texts from this lad pretty much telling me he was staying at mine on the Thursday night.
It was kinda starting to irritate me by this point.
The likely scenario was, that we would go out, have a few drinks, I would then just take him back to mine and go from there.
He just needed everything planned down to the tee though. Like ultimate recurrence this was DEFO going to happen.
I’m a firm believer in the great unspoken, let nature take its course and all that. He was just pissing me off now, plucking at my stubborn strings like a fucking harp, I was now determined not to have sex with him.
If only he could just shut the fuck up, he had scuppered his own chances.
I told him on Thursday well before we were due to meet, he was not coming back to mine.
Time to read his reaction.
If he then bails, he was only after some mcloving anyways, and I’m not that attracted to him that it’s any great loss.
If he still wants to meet then hey presto, maybe he is just very bad at this dating malarkey.
Turns out he still wants’ to meet, after again reminding me he is disappointed.
Who is he to say that? My mam gets disappointed in me when I’m 15 and drunk. Not this chose who is just not getting laid on the 2nd date god for fucking bid.
I went to meet him at the tube near mine as we were heading to a pub close by, if anyone remembers this week, it has been pissing it down nonstop.
I had my coat on and a brolly but I was still soaked after he was 20 minutes late meeting me.
Not impressed.
He greeted me a nice little kiss and things were once again bloody lovely.
We walked down the road to the pub, all of 5 minutes away.
I was chatting away asking a million and 1 questions as per, he was very yes and no’y.
AKA, really fucking hard work.
We got to the pub (which I have never seen more than 3 people in, in my whole life) and it’s live music night.
Fucking hammered with every ‘alternative’ in East London.
Hmmmm his face was not that of a happy man.
Looking back out at the rain, we decided to just go in.
I ran the loos to try and dry off a bit whilst he got the drinks in.
When I emerge from the loos I saw his across the bar, he had found us a table cramped between two huge groups of people.
Not ideal, I managed to fight my way out of my coat like a fucking straight jacket in the tiny space available.
He was sat back in his chair, clearly not happy with the surroundings.
‘Wanna go somewhere else? This is a bit grim in here’
‘Nah’
Okaaaayyyyy
I tried to make conversation, asked questions that I wasn’t actually interested in the answers of.
Just generally tried to make the best of a bad situation.
Next thing, some fucking banshee is on the microphone, squealing (singing) It was not nice.. Just not nice.
‘So, I must say you have perfect timing don’t you?’
‘Excuse me’
‘It’s just a shame we can’t just leave here and go back to yours now’
‘Is it? Well I did tell you this earlier today, you said you was more than happy to come for a drink as you still wanted to see me’
Looking back what he clearly thought was, I’ll go an meet her and just end up back at hers anyways.
The eternal optimist eh? Well he can do one, he was just being outright rude now.
Second date and he’s for some reason got some fucking god complex thinking he surely must be so irresistible, how could I not want to sleep with him.
I can feel my eyeballs getting hot. I’m really fucking annoyed.
‘Listen I might just finish this pint and head home, early start tomorrow and all that’
That was fine by me, I was wet and cold and wanted to get away sharpish.
He didn’t touch his drink, just kept looking at it.
‘Are you actually going to drink that?’
‘No’
‘Okay well why are we still sat here, Let’s go’
I didn’t wait for him to get his coat, I just walked out and quickly lit a cigarette to fight the urge of pushing him into the oncoming traffic.
Realising we then had to walk together back up to the station, all of a sudden his mood lightened.
Oh now he wants to talk?
Fair play the pub was shit, the mood was ruined and it had been a disaster.
None of this was actually my fault though and I was less than impressed he had sat there with a face like fucking thunder for the past half hour making me feel mega awkward.
I smiled along and stifled a few laughs just to try and get away with minimal effort.
Outside the station , he tried to kiss me.
I went for the ‘peck’ as I really didn’t want to kiss this guy anymore and I was scared I would bite his tongue out of his head if I felt it in my mouth.
‘So I’ll see you next week?’
Is this guy for real.
Tonight was a disaster, why the fuck would he want to do this again?
Fucking masochist.
Can anyone please explain to me what the point of this whole exercise was?
If a girl tells you, it’s not on the cards, do you just act as though she never said it?
Still turn up with up under the impression you’re well in?
I have no clue, but I can only assume that I didn’t hide my anger half as well as I thought OR he now loathes me as much as I do him as no communication has continued since that fateful night.
If only he hadn’t have basically asked outright for sex, stupid big mouthed bastard.
I’m glad I stuck to my guns though.
I really hated the way he walked.
Nothings worse than caving to a guy with a shit walk.
