I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
“He gestured to Mr Reliable. Who was staring at us from outside. With a murderous look in his eye.” These were the last words I said to you.
The situation: I’m towards the end of my second date with Mr Reliable. I’m drunk. He’s drunk. He’s said a few creepo things that I’m trying to ignore because I don’t want to die alone. I’m at the bar chatting to the bar dude (who is awesome). Until suddenly, he points to Mr Reliable who is staring at us. Angry. Yikes.
Do I run? No. Do I hide? No. I do the courageous lioness thing and walk back to my date and check if everything’s okay. To which he replies:
Need me to sort that guy out for you?
“Sort him out,” like with a tip because he’s lovely? Or “sort him out” like with a fist in his face? The fire blowing out of Mr Reliable’s nostrils made me suspect it was the latter. And so, I finally decided to run.
Well not really. I decided to call it a night. It was nearing 3am by that stage, and as we all know, nothing good happens after 3am. Or is it 1am? I get confused. So Mr Reliable walked (stumble pashed) me to a taxi. (A stumble pash is when you walk like fools, stopping for a drunken pash in the middle of the street. I’m assuming it’s not pretty.) Anyhoo, he got me to a taxi, and to my surprise, tried to get in after me.
I found this strange considering he didn’t want to come home with me after our first date because he wanted to take things slow and get to know me. So… the very next date was enough for him to know me?! I think not. It was clearly a martini fuelled move. And so, I awkwardly shut the door in his face, pretending I didn’t realise what he was trying to do.
He called me when he got home because he missed me. Understandable. So I chatted to him for awhile. And for some reason, we decided I’d go over to his place the following day to “watch movies”. He said he’d “help me” with my inevitable hangover. Even as I write those words, I’m reminded of how naive I was. Why was coming home with me tonight going to be any different from going to his house tomorrow? Both scenarios involve; us, privacy, and a bed.
Still, believe me when I say my intentions were 100% pure. I honestly wanted to go over and hang out without the fancy dinners. And more importantly, in the bright (sober) light of day. You see, I needed to make sure I actually liked him. At this point I couldn’t tell because our first two dates ended with us blind drunk. And I like EVERYONE when I’m drunk.
Clarity was definitely required.
As I drove to his house, which was a fair distance from mine, I got a continuous stream of texts making sure I knew where I was going. Obviously. Because I’m too dumb to listen to the voice on my Google Maps. Okay, maybe I’m being critical. He was just trying to be sweet.
Alas, I made it to his place in one piece. It was nice to see him. He was warm, and excited to show me his house – which he’d bought recently. It was lovely. And so was he. There was only one negative thought that came to me when he gave me a big hug. What was it, you ask?
OMG how much bloody perfume does he want to put on?!
And yes, it smelt like perfume. Not some sexy man spray. It mightn’t have bothered me in an open space. But enclosed in his house, with a raging hangover, it was enough to make me dry reach a couple of times. I, of course, acted like a lady and concealed all gag reflexes.
The next thing he did was introduce me to his cat. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this before, but I ADORE CATS. I was never allowed to have one growing up because my mum didn’t want fur on her sofas. And I think also because our pet monkey Raja bit me once and we had to leave India forever.
So to fill my feline quota I used to go to my old neighbour’s house and play with their cats. They had four. And I loved them so much I used to draw pictures of them at school. I was like 10, so don’t judge me. Actually now I think of it, my current neighbour’s cat comes and sleeps in my bed sometimes. Whatever. We have a connection. And not in a crazy cat lady way…
HAHA. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I kind of love her. And not because I AM her. Or because I am going to BE her when I grow up. But because I find her hilarious. So let’s move on.
I looked up to see the most majestic grey chinchilla starting down at me from her podium. It was really high up. It made me respect her, like a queen. But also wonder how the hell she got up there. And while I felt a love connection forming between us, the cat stared at me like I was the biggest tool-bag going around. I tried to call her down to me, but she wasn’t having a bar of it. Mr Reliable did the gentleman thing and grabbed her so I could have a pat.
She was not happy. And all of a sudden, neither was I.
Because as soon as Mr Reliable took her in his arms, he turned into a total freak. He put on this feral baby voice and patted the fur on her head way too hard. It was obvious this feline despised him. But he had no clue… He kept going, and held the cat up to my face to ask if I was pretty. The cat didn’t respond. So that was offensive.
Suddenly, I got an insight into why his ex might’ve bitten him. Maybe he patted her head too hard (that’d only be dirty if she had a penis) and smothered her into fury. My attraction to him started to fade, so I suggested we move away from the cat and watch something. He’d previously raved about The Walking Dead, so we thought that’d be a good place to start.
I tried to get into it, but it was hard. Because instead of watching the television, Mr Reliable watched my face. And reacted to all of my reactions. Like… Oooh you look terrified. Ha! That got you. You’re so cute when you’re scared. Frankly, it was an invasion of my personal space. And also disconcerting because my fear seemed to excite him.
He then got up to make me a snack. Which was awesome. But when he got back from the kitchen he lay across the couch and pulled me into his arms. It was a spooning situation. Which I normally love. However all I could think is how the hell am I supposed to eat the sausage roll if I’m lying down?! Okay, that one definitely sounded dirty.
And more importantly, how am I going to continue breathing when his perfume is stifling my will to live?! I’d been there for a few hours at this stage, so I figured the only way to break free of his hold would be to say I have to go home. That seems harsh, I know. But it’s more kind than asking him to let me go, and stick around awkwardly while he comments on my facial expressions from a distance. Okay, so my decision to leave was a selfish one. But you just have to be that way sometimes.
Another thing that made me want to leave was the expectation of sexy time. I was struggling to lie still next him so taking things further was out of the question. And this wasn’t all the perfume’s fault. Our few hours in daylight, without the brilliant glow of vodka, had confirmed that I wasn’t into this dude romantically. Not physically. Not mentally. I felt nothing. And he was still hot. So there must’ve been something really wrong.
So whether I’d be fated to die alone. Or with 1,200 cats scratching my arms. It’d be better than living in this house… With Mr Reliable cooing at my face, and holding me too tight, and feeding me sausage rolls. Actually, I take that back. The sausage rolls were delicious.
When I finally divulged my plan to leave, he was disappointed as expected. Probably because he hadn’t had a chance to pull his junk out. Still, I expected him to be cool about it. But oh no, he most definitely wasn’t.
What happened next, still sends shivers down my spine…