I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
Ohh the big 13! Unlucky for some, lucky for others… But who really cares? It’s not like my luck could get any worse.
It’s been a bit of a vom fest really… I started my Online Dating journey hopeful, then got disenchanted, then wanted a break, but instead went into overdrive. After all of this, I eventually decided to give myself some time out, for reals. Yes, finally a chance to gather my energy, pick my hopes up off the piss-soaked floor, and figure out what I actually want.
So while I focussed on the good things in life (my buds, my fam, my work, booze) I kept my profile up on the site just in case something wonderful happened. Yes I know, still stupidly optimistic. And sure, for the most part, only creeps and dudes with sleazy openers approached me. FYI – You have 206 bones in your body… want one more? Is NOT, I repeat NOT an adequate greeting!
Don’t wuz, not all of them were totally feral. But still, I wasn’t inspired to engage with any of them. Perhaps my past disappointments had made me hyper-critical? Perhaps I was having too much fun in the real world to care? One thing was certain – it’d take a very special man to break me out of my voluntary Online Dating drought.
And that’s when Mr Reliable popped up.
He already sounds boring, right? He was anything but. In fact, I wasn’t sure what to call him at first. He could’ve been ‘Mr Funny’, ‘Mr Smart’, ‘Mr Sexy’… or a combination of all of those. But I went for ‘Mr Reliable’ because he made me feel instantly assured he wasn’t going to muck me around or play games. Muchos importante! (Sorry, I turn Spanish when I’m really serious.)
You see, he was a little bit older than me. And was happy to talk openly about all that he’d experienced – the good and the bad. It wasn’t far into our communication that he admitted he’d lost someone really close to him earlier that year. His heartfelt admission was confronting at first. But he spoke about it so calmly, and so respectfully that I couldn’t help but be in awe of how well he was coping – and how much he genuinely wanted to share his life with someone.
The other thing that won me over was the fact he was a massive TV enthusiast. Jackpot! So when I told him I worked in TV he was very cutely excited and wanted to chat out every TV show ever made. This is probably one of my favourite things to do so I was happy. But we hit a bit of a glitch in the road when I asked about his work. He was far from enthusiastic – he works to live, and not the other way around. I usually find ambition to be pretty damn hot, but there was something appealing about the balance he’d managed to achieve. Do I hear potential stay-at-home dad?! Hell yes! Okay, don’t jump the gun. You know you are.
And then the moment we all (probably just me) had been waiting for…
He asked me out on a date.
It felt a little bit quick to be honest. We’d only shared a few emails and texts. But there was something about our early D&Ms that made it feel like we already knew each other quite well. Ah, my soppy meter just exploded. Soz.
Also, as we all know, I’ve had a 0% success rate on the Internet thus far. That means all those emails and all those texts have essentially been for nothing. It’s okay, I’m not having a crisis or regretting any of it – it’s made me stronger, and broadened the range of bullshit conversation I can follow. But I do think it’s taught me not to spend too much time writing to someone. If there’s potential, get straight to the first date. Because that’s when you’ll find out who they really are.
So that’s exactly what we did.
Well eventually, anyway. Because as my super knack for making a fool of myself would have it – I got to the bar and couldn’t find Mr Reliable anywhere. My first instinct was to play it cool and continue doing laps until someone returned my hopeful eye-contact. But instead I ended up just walking around weirdly glaring at people until they looked away in disgust/ fear.
I finally bit the bullet and called him to ask where he was. This was embarrassing because he’d already texted to say he’d got us a table. So I essentially had to admit that I’m a complete nuff-nuff and couldn’t find him, thus pointing up the awkwardness of our blind (profile picture only) date scenario. Wonderful.
Anyhoo, I called (trying to sound cute instead of dumb) and he told me he was actually outside. So I assumed he meant he’d left the table to meet me out the front. (Failing to realise there were tables out the back). Confused? So was I. Because when I got outside, all I could see was a dude parking his motorbike – and he looked nothing like Mr Reliable.
I put it down to poor lighting and approached him regardless. Because, well, why not make this whole thing even more painful? So I creeped up to the guy and asked if he was Mr Reliable. He replied, “No, but I can pretend to be.” Followed by a smile gross enough to make you cry. I walked away kicking myself. Motorcycle Dude was clearly like 96 years old. I don’t know what I was thinking…
By this stage, I was just about ready to pack it in and run home. But did I?