I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
My first date with Mr Amazing was better than any online date I’ve ever been on. A normal person would be super stoked after it. But my stupid, over-thinking brain feared it was all too good to be true.
What the hell is up with that? I put myself on Ebay-for-love with an open mind and open heart. But suddenly I was scared it wouldn’t actually happen for me. Before you go calling me crazy, remember one simple fact: Mr Amazing told me he was really busy for the next few weeks and would be in touch after that. Cheers dude, you liar. No one’s too busy to send a text. No. One. Not if you actually give a f*%k and think the person is good enough to stay on their radar.
So as I drove home from our dream date I naturally started talking myself out of the whole thing. He wasn’t that hot, charming, smart, funny, charismatic, kind, endearing, strong, inspiring, hot. Okay so clearly my self-brainwashing was going to take a long time. Luckily I was interrupted by:
My phone doesn’t actually make that sound but I don’t know how else to type it. It was a text! From him! And as much as I’d like to pretend I waited to get home before reading it for the sake of road safety, I looked at it right then and there:
Had the best night. Thank you. Let me know when you’re home safe xx
Aw, I was mere blocks away. Of course I’d get home safe. But he showed me the same care my dad shows me when he makes me central-lock my car even when I’m driving around in broad daylight. Care equals feelings. Feelings equal marriage. Which means Mr Amazing and I equal thousands of gorgeous caramel babies. It was all going to happen for me because his prompt text proved he was genuinely busy… And not just saying it to prevent me from getting stalkie. Yes!
So I waited, and waited for the few weeks to pass.
I know I’ve previously been on a rant about how no one should ever play the waiting game. I guess some sparks are just worth it. But how long was I supposed to wait? Google told me ‘a few’ meant ‘three’. Don’t judge me for needing to look that up – English is my second language. Anyhoo three full weeks had gone by and I hadn’t heard anything. I was tempted to give up at that point, but I decided to contact him myself – if only for some closure. Whatevs. The voice in my head told me to do it.
And I’m so glad it did – because he wrote back straight away. In fact the timing was weirdly perfect. He’d just put in his Masters that day! I swear I didn’t hack into his iCal to figure that one out. I could only put my creepy accuracy down to the fact we were SOULMATES. Which is an idea he validated when he texted saying:
Tonight’s the first night since our date that I actually feel relaxed. Hearing from you is the cherry on top.
SWOON. I got SO happy… My internet “cherry” was going to be all his. Sorry, yuck. But it’s true. So over a night of texting, one thing led to another and Mr Amazing locked me in for a second date.
The excitement I felt leading up to the date can only be likened to when I recently heard a Gelato Messina was opening down the road from me. I was PUMPED, but also scared of becoming too invested. And getting fat. Fat always happens for me when I’m in a happy relationship. And also when I eat too much gelato. Most accurate analogy ever! (I promise I didn’t just write this paragraph to get the gelato people’s attention and earn free gelato for life – or did i?!) I did.
Anyhoo, let’s get straight to the date. Spoiler alert: it was EVEN FREAKING BETTER than the first one.
We met at an outdoor Mexican restaraunt in my ‘hood. He wasn’t suited up this time, he was dressed a-la casual. And rocking it by the way. I got there a bit earlier than him again. When he rocked up we gave each other a big squeeze. It went for ages. Until I realised I’d probably held him too tight, and for too long.
Play it cool woman!
Is what I told myself. So I casually let go. But the thing is… He was still holding on. OMG. I didn’t want it to end so I awkwardly put my arms back around him. And that’s when he said:
I’ve been hanging out to see you again.
My heart fluttered. And my mouth made a weird squealing noise, which I covered with hardcore laughter. He asked me what was so funny. Obviously nothing was funny! I was just an idiot who’s not used to such a wonderful man reciprocating my feelings. As I searched for an answer, he quickly apologised for being too full on… It was only a second date after all. That’s when I realised we were both as nervous as each other. Being a fairly shallow biatch I assumed he’d be fine because of his insane sexiness. But nope, he was just as scared as me. The last thing I wanted was for his man-guard to go back up so I launched into a creepy tirade of assurances.
Oh don’t worry. I’m excited too. I’ve been waiting for you to text me for ages. I never quite got how you could be so busy. But I’m sooooo happy you’re finally here. Who cares if it’s only the second date. I feel like I’ve known you for ages. We’re totally connected. Like with the whole spider thing… And how scared we are of them. So cool.
Those obviously weren’t my exact words – my memory’s not THAT photographic. But I remember saying a lot of things. And mentioning spiders. Oh dear.
This time he laughed and put a comforting hand on my back as he led me to our table – all the while telling me how cute I was.
Finally a guy that thinks my crazy is cute. This is the stuff fairytales are made of.
Anyhoo, so we shared a lovely dinner. I could tell you every little detail about every little swoony thing he said and did. But then we’d be here forever and and die from too much computer. So I’ll cut to what happened after dinner. Reow!
Firstly, the cheque came around. This can be a tricky time of a date – especially of the Internet variety where you’re not familiar enough to know how you handle money things (even if you’re already falling in love). The Indian in me thinks whoever did the inviting should pay. It all evens up in the end, right? But the Girl Power in me likes to pay half, no matter what. (Unless it’s my birthday – or a special occasion I’ve invented in my own honour.)
On our first date I’d insisted we go halvies and Mr Amazing hadn’t argued. But this time when the cheque arrived and I put my credit card forward, Mr Amazing swiftly pulled the folder thing away and wouldn’t let me anywhere near it. I tried, really I did. But he got up and disappeared to the counter before I could argue any further. Now, I’m not a materialistic person*, but I found his generosity so endearing.
*Sure, I probably spend too much on my wardrobe and disconcerting supply of lip glosses but I am also a writer and writers can’t be materialistic because we know we’ll never be rich. (Until our big Bollywood film gets made… Then it’s all CHA-CHING!)
Mr Amazing explained that he never pays for a first Internet date because he’s experienced too many people who seem to be in it just for a free meal. And then they disappear afterwards. WTF?! I couldn’t believe it. Everyone loves a free meal, but how could anyone sit at a table with Mr Amazing and not lock that shizz down for life?! Lucky for me I guess…
So dinner came to an end, but neither of us wanted the night to (come to an end)… We coyly speculated about where we could go next. He suggested a bar but we’d both had three drinks and were driving. Yes, I know you should only have two drinks when driving but we’d had enough soft-shell crab tacos to even it out. As we continued to think of options, my brain and heart simultaneously screamed: Invite the nice hot man home!!!
But what he said next changed everything…