I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
Don’t worry, you haven’t missed a post (the one that marks the end of Mr Too Cool). That’s still coming… But like all things in life, online dating sometimes throws you a curveball. And mine, came in the form of Mr Drunk.
He approached me on the dating website with a cheeky and charming email. (Gets me every time!) So I started investigating his profile, and profile pictures. He had many shots of himself rocking Tough Mudder, the Colour Run and all those things I plan to do but never get around to.
He wasn’t as attractive as my other boys (sorry Mr Drunk, but our readers deserve honesty). Still, there was something about him. He seemed effortlessly fun. And effortlessly FUNNY. Which I find so damn sexy! So we started text communication (ooh!) and I happily put Mr Too Cool on the back burner. Does that sound harsh? Well it’s not… Because something I’ve discovered through my online adventures is:
We need options.
So while Option A was too busy/ lame/ chicken/ uninterested to ask me out, Option B would keep me entertained. And more importantly – romantically hopeful.
I got right into our witty banter, which soon became flirty banter, which soon became late night requests for photos. BACK UP! What’s with that? Surely if he wanted a reminder of what I look like he could browse the photos on my profile? Or did he want something more current? Or even scarier… Something more NAKED?!
Before I could come up with a response that clearly said, “No. But I’m not a prude. I just don’t want you having freaky photos of me before we’ve even met…” I got another message from him.
It was a photo of him at the races. Followed by a photo of him at the pub. Followed by a photo of him at the beach. They were all pleasant enough, but I wasn’t sure why the freak he was sending them to me. And even worse, I wasn’t sure how to respond. Of course I wrote back with bullshit like, “That looks fun,” “I like your surf board,” and, “Nice shorts.” Maybe he was hoping I’d ask to see what was behind the shorts… Not happening.
Feeling like I wasn’t pulling my weight, I went though my phone and found a decent (fully dressed) photo of myself smashing dumplings in Chinatown. Hot. He responded with a compliment and asked me out for a drink on the weekend. I felt sufficiently excited (how romantic) but wanted to sleep on it. I know, I know, it’s not polite to keep someone waiting but I needed a clear head to make my decision.
And so in the morning, I gauged my instincts and decided to accept his offer.
Why not? You only live once…
Between the photo-fest and date-day, we were in touch quite frequently. He was insanely affectionate but it didn’t spook me out. It actually made me feel at ease about meeting him.
Keeping that in mind, you can imagine my disappointment when he texted on the morning of date-day to postpone. Sad face.
Normally I’d say SCREW HIM it’s NOT GOOD ENOUGH. But he had a fair excuse (he had to go home to the country for a family emergency). So I deleted the sassy/ aggro SMS response I’d written and waited to see what happened next. I think my silence freaked him out – because he really pulled out the big guns to get my attention – that’s right folks…
He sent me an apologetic cat meme.
And it worked.
I got dragged back into text conversation with him, and it wasn’t long before he locked me in for the following Friday night. I took it with a grain of salt and promised myself I wouldn’t get too excited about the date.
Friday came around and the Universe gave me the arvo off work, which was great because it allowed me to relax and prepare for the big night. And by “relax and prepare,” I mean “change my outfit seven thousand times.” Yep, that whole don’t get excited thing never really happens for me.
I was feeling good, but it didn’t last long. Because mere hours before the date I had the DUMBEST text exchange in the history of time. NB: All typos have been replicated – it’s him, not me!
It all started with him writing:
Refusing to admit I was obsessing about my attire, I responded:
Work, work, work! What’s the go for tonight?
Yes, we hadn’t picked a venue or time yet. But it was cool because we’d agreed to play it by ear and see how work went. Anyway, he then wrote:
Just having some work drinks. When do you finish?
Probs around 6-ish.
He didn’t write back for a while. And then I got:
What you doin tonight?
Confused, I wrote:
Where and wen?
How about 7 at rooftop?
U still keen?
Annoyed, I wrote:
And then he finally went for honesty and admitted:
I m just tipsy… Had a work lunch for anniversary with co pant.
And soon corrected himself:
Haha. His stupidity disolved all my anger and I couldn’t help but laugh. I think my favourite part was when he tried to pretend the week-long conversation about our date never happened and asked me:
What you doin tonight?
Yep, he must’ve been drunk as a skunk. And all of a sudden it all came together…
All this time, he was funny because he was drunk. He wanted photos because he was drunk. He texted late at night because he was drunk. He cancelled the week before because he was drunk. And… He was stupid because he was drunk.
I’m not judging him… I’ve done MANY foolish things while drunk. Once, I was so wasted that I started talking crap about someone without realising they were standing right there – in front of me – involved in the same conversation. In my drunken haze I was convinced that going to the bar to get another drink would mean it never happened. Perhaps he had the same thought.
So I empathised. But still, I didn’t like the fact that he dicked me around two Friday nights in row. So, I didn’t write to him again that night. Instead, I took my pretty dress ensemble out with the girls.
I honestly thought that would be the end of it. But as it’s happened before… I WAS WRONG.