I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
Yes. This actually happened. Apparently I’m not as smart as I’d like to think I am.
So where did I go wrong? Why, after the disaster that was our first date would I see Mr Sex Pest again?
Could it be that I’m cray because I’ve been brought up on Bollywood? The cinema where the Number 1 courting tactic is to jump out from behind a tree and sing in a woman’s face. And to chase her through the streets to an unnaturally upbeat song – until she says yes?
Or could it be that I’m a wonderful, hopeful person. An optimist, who’s willing to give anyone a second chance no matter what. Especially when they’ve had a sad upbringing, and there’s the slightest chance I could be the person to bring light into their world?
Or could it be that he sent me a ticket to the Australian Open Men’s Grand Final between Djokovic and Murray – and I really, really like tennis?
Maybe it’s a combination of all of the above. And maybe we’ll never know.
But in my defence the gross/ hilarious text messages came to a halt and I got to see Mr Sex Pest’s sensitive side. After the amazing, “Hopefully next time I charm the pants off you, your pants literally come off,” I went completely silent on him. I didn’t even write back the next day when he wished me a, “Good morning pretty lady.”
He got the hint and stopped all communication. And if we’d left it at that, he would’ve disappeared from my life right then and there. But then I got an unexpected text a few days later:
“Good luck with your deadline today. I’m sure you’ll kill it.”
If they aren’t the magic words, I don’t know what are.
As an insecure writer, any form of validation is worth a thousand good first dates. Also, he picked a deadline even my parents had forgotten about (they get confused) so I was extra vulnerable and appreciative of attention.
But more than anything, I was impressed he’d actually remembered this auspicious day. I only casually mentioned it somewhere between the oyster force-feeding and water spillage, so he must’ve really been listening… Paying attention to every word that came out of my mouth… Just like a serial killer. Wonderful.
I responded to him with a very formal, non-sexual, “Thank you.” And apparently that’s all it took. Before I knew it, I had an e-ticket sent direct to my phone inviting me to the big game.
You see during our riveting dinner, he’d mentioned he was keen to head to the tennis because he’d never been before. Probably because he spends his summers terrorising women. I told him I was keen because it’s my second favourite sport to watch… It was one of those gruelling first date moments where you tentatively affirm a future activity, thinking you’ll actually want to see them again.
Now I think about it the whole, “I’ll send you a ticket without asking you,” seems creepy. But at the time I saw it as charming and proactive. Yep, that’s definitely the Bollywood influence.
So I headed to Date 2 expecting the worst, but privately hopeful I’d win the game 40-love.
Sorry, I don’t know what that means. I just had to get a tennis gag in somewhere!
Anyway, I figured you can’t get more public than Rod Laver, so if he tried anything freaky I’d be able to smack him with a giant tennis ball. But what followed totally baffled me.
He stopped being a sleaze bag and turned into an absolute sop. He complained about his job, his mates, even his ex! Yep. He started telling me about how he wanted to have kids with his ex, but she hated his mother. Awkward.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all up for talking through people’s problems, but the early stages of dating require some kind of mystery to maintain the spark. Like telling me that his ex and his mum got into an heated argument and slapped each other, isn’t really something I’m ready to hear. Seriously, what do you say to that?!
So the talking continued through the match and I found myself envying the happy people around us. The ones that were able to enjoy the tennis without Mr Sex Pest constantly going, “Are you listening to me?” It got so tragic that I even started missing his disgusting innuendo. At least that kept me on my toes!
My boredom proved this dude is defs not the one for me. It even pushed me to suggest we leave to beat the traffic when the match went into a fourth set. Any tennis fan will understand HOW TERRIBLE a sign that is.
I was so happy to get away from him, and for completely different reasons than after the first date. Isn’t that strange? You think you know a Sex Pest, then BAM.
Maybe I should’ve stuck around to see his other facets, but I just didn’t have the patience. I’ve been told this dating thing is hard, but I refuse to believe it should be THAT hard. (Oh, he would so have something feral to say at the mention of “hard”). Bless.
I won’t lie, the date left me feeling pretty discouraged, but I don’t regret it at all. Because I actually learnt a vital lesson. Something we all know, but constantly forget…