I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
Miss M and Mr Reliable sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S.I.N.G…
Was pretty much on repeat in my mind after that amazeballs first date. But with our real names of course. I couldn’t believe my luck. It was like all those bad dates had drifted into oblivion. And I was left with a terrific, attractive, intelligent man who actually wanted to date me. BAM! So without making me suffer through boring texty stalling, he invited me out to dinner a few nights later. Even bigger BAM!
I met him outside a beautiful Chinese restaurant in the CBD. And there he was. Waiting. Spunky. My heart started beating out of my chest, total cartoon-style. I hope he didn’t notice. But he probably did. Because as I walked up to him, I tripped over the cobble stone. Argh! EVERY. TIME.
Thankfully I managed to stay upright. So it was more of an awkward solo dance than a fall. When such clumsiness usually (often) takes place in my life, people don’t know how to react. Dates and acquaintances get twitchy and weird. Or feel concern for my well-being. But true friends? True friends laugh. And that’s exactly what Mr Reliable did. Because I looked like a fool.
His reaction made me like him even more. It meant he was genuine. So in we went, to our sexy little table. He was quick to order wine. And I was quick to check out the menu. He could tell I was having trouble narrowing down the freaking delish options so he suggested we go with the banquet. A man after my own heart. Another tick.
I was pretty much in heaven. Nothing could ruin this moment.
Except for one thing…
After our glorious waitress put our first course down in front of us, he turned to me and mimicked her strong Chinese accent. I was in shock. What was that? I asked. Won Ton and Dumpring, he repeated. I didn’t know what to do with myself. He was laughing, but this time I wasn’t on the same page.
Still, I liked him, and I didn’t want to yell at him for being a dick. So I wiped the event from my brain and enjoyed the won tons and dumplings. They were pretty great. Then course two came around, and he did the same thing again – really loudly! And this time I couldn’t bite my tongue. I told him it wasn’t cool, or funny. He told me to lighten up. I agreed – but only if he’d stop harassing the waitress behind her back. Deal made. We could move on.
The dinner continued through the night, and our enthralling chat was back before we knew it. Phew.
After dinner and two bottles of vino, we decided the night was still young. So we hit up a rooftop for cocktails. Two of my fave things. Hooray. Before too long, the conversation moved into boozy deep and meaningful territory. He started telling me about a family member he’d lost earlier that year. He was strong about it, but I could tell the grief still sat heavy in his heart. The worst part was how horrible his ex was to him during that time.
She was seriously a total moll. It was like she hated him. For example, if he drank or had a cigarette she’d tell him he deserved to die like his family member. And she didn’t go to their funeral because she was “busy”. Also, one time when they got into a grief fuelled argument, she bit him.
I was enraged. And with a few espresso martinis in me, I was ready to hunt her down and slap her. (Or just egg her house or something). He appreciated my support, but what I didn’t get was why he stayed with her. FYI – She broke up with him. WTF?! He admitted he was vulnerable and needed stability. But I felt like he was hiding something deeper… Co-dependency? Weakness? An inability to be alone? Love? Stupidity? Not sure.
The conversation then moved on to my career. And the freelance (unstable, terrifying) nature of it. He found it fascinating. And said nice things about my drive and passion. He thought it was inspirational. Which was an amazing thing to hear. But then he took it a little too far…
He said that he believed in me. But if I failed, he’d happily support me, financially.
I don’t know what weirded me out more:
a) The suggestion that I’d fail.
b) The fact that we were on a second date and he was talking about supporting me financially.
c) All of the above.
So I did what I do best… I pretended the conversation never happened and got up to get another round of drinks.
I decided some refreshing mojitos would calm his farm. While I waited, the bar dude asked how my night was going. He guessed I was on a date and regaled me with stories of awkward dates he’d witnessed at the bar. And then it hit me. I was one of those people. Sure, Mr Reliable and I weren’t anywhere near as bad as others past. But my gut was telling me we weren’t quite right either. I wanted us to be, but little things he said had started irking me – in a big way. Not a good sign.
Another not so good sign – I found myself enjoying my chats with the bar dude more. Not because I wanted a piece of him. But because they were free of romantic pressure. Yikes. I was broken out of my thoughts when my new mate put two yummy cocktails in front of me. After I paid, he apologised. I didn’t know what he was talking about, until…
I think we’ve pissed your date off.
He gestured to Mr Reliable. Who was staring at us from outside. With a murderous look in his eye.