Category Archives: He did what?

is the unknown safer than the known?

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He did what?

Blind dating is uncomfortable to say the least. You never know what you are going to get… The beauty of the internet allows you to stalk from a distance but even so, people can look a lot different in person.

I have had my fair share of blind dates… and I can confidently say NONE of them have worked out. There are too many variables and too many unknowns.

Last year I was set up on another blind date. This time felt different, I was genuinely excited. He looked great on paper… real-estate mogul and  country boy… Country boys are renowned for being genuine and lovely.

I googled him of course and he looked very handsome… wow, rich, nice and handsome what more could I want!

We bantered via email making small talk… a few days later he invited me to have a drink after work one Friday afternoon. I agreed cringing at the thought of have another blind date, but secretly excited hoping this blind date would be different.

I caught a cab to the bar where we arranged to meet. It was quite a swish place filled with lots of bankers having afterwork drinks.

I arrived five minutes late, 7:05pm, he hadn’t arrived yet. I ordered my drink of choice a G & T and took a seat at the bar doing that awkward fiddle with the phone women do when they are waiting for someone. It got to 7:20 pm he still hadn’t arrived and no call. At this stage the barman asked me if I was waiting for someone and I laughed and said “he is always late” obviously a lie, never met the guy. 7:30pm, 7:40pm, 7:50pm passed and he still hadn’t showed. I am not sure why I stuck around but I guess i felt I had already committed to waiting like a loser.

I got a text at 7:55pm which read ” so sorry running late will be there in 5 minutes” . I thought I must have got the times muddled up (which I didn’t) . At this point I wasn’t impressed. Anyone who knows me will tell you I’m very inpatient and I don’t like to be made a fool of.

He eventually rocked up just after 8pm. (so nice of him to join me!). He was very handsome and you could just tell by the way he carried himself he knew it.

No apology, nothing. He came up to me and gave me a kiss on both cheeks and said “darling a drink? I don’t have long I have to be at a dinner at 8:30pm, you don’t mind do you?” my skin was crawling, rude to the tenth degree.

We had one quick drink… which I didn’t even get to finish before he said he had to go to dinner (I imagine with another girl). He asked if I could drop him off in a cab along the way… I agreed, it wasn’t really on my way but I didn’t want to be rude.

As we were walking to the cab he really upped it a notch… literally.

He said “wow you have the most fuckable legs I have ever seen, you’re giving me a hard on!” …EXCUSE ME????!!>@>!>@<#<M@!>!!! What the! I was gobsmacked, couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He said it again and once more after that.Perhaps he thought he could get away with it because I was laughing awkwardly.  I am up for silly banter but this slimy, arrogant, real-estate mogul had taken it one step too far…

One hour late, a twenty minute drink and he couldn’t even make time for dinner…please…

Just another bad blind date to add to the list. I never saw him again after that night… he tried to call me a few times but I didn’t take his calls, I hope it bruised his ego 🙂

Had to be there…

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corkscrew

When writing about dating it is hard to know where to start… I have been single for two years and in that time I would of been on more than 50 dates. Sounds like a lot but that is less than 1 a fortnight.

The next date I am going to share with you is one I like to call ‘Had to be there’. I call it this because at the time it felt like it was one of the worst dates I had ever experienced….in hindsight the whole situation was quite comical.

So here goes…

I met Sam one night at a house party in Bondi, Sydney… He seemed nice and quite good looking. He asked for my number so I gave it to him.

A few days later he called me and asked me over to his house for dinner. I thought that was rather forward for a first date, but accepted nether the less.

I always have the opinion that if a man asks you to his house for dinner they want more than dinner (I think any male would back me up). If I could give you any advice it would be not to have a home cooked meal as your first date…

…anyway…

A few days later the evening arrived. I was meant to be at his house at 7pm but arrived at 6:50pm to be punctual. As I was parking my car I heard a kerfuffle across the road.

I looked over to see Sam (my date) having a confrontation with a much bigger guy. They were throwing punches. I ran across the road to see what was going on… The bigger guy was yelling about the groceries which were strewn all over his manicured garden. There were broken eggs, tomatoes and a whole bunch of other groceries on the ground.

To this day I am not entirely sure why they were throwing punches but there must have been some built up history between them.

Anyway… my date was on the ground bleeding from his nose (seriously!?!?!). I picked him up and took him to his apartment.

We walked into the apartment and things went from bad to worse.

His apartment was basically a squatters nest.

I have an open mind when it comes to most things but this was ghastly. There were bunk beds in the lounge room…as well as in two of the bedrooms. There must of been about 4 people sleeping in each bedroom and another four sleeping in the lounge room.

There were beer bottles lying on the floor… there was so much rubbish and junk on the balcony you could barely see out… there were cigarette butts on the ground and the ashtrays were over flowing not to mention the strong cigarette smoke stench.

In a nutshell I don’t think the place had been cleaned for 10 years…  I learnt that you can never truly know a man until you see where he lives.

After I had cleaned his face from all the blood that was now beginning to dry on it. I pulled out a bottle of wine.. my date scrounged around for some odd wine glasses that also looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in 10 years.

After realising the wine wasn’t a screw top he informed me he didn’t have a bottle opener! (what twenty something person doesn’t have a cork screw)

He then had decided it would be a good idea if I drove to buy a bottle opener?!?!?! I politely agreed not wanting to be rude.

Let me remind you this is a FIRST DATE…

I got to my car and all I could do was cry.. I bawled my eyes out, hysterically crying. Looking back i am not sure why I wasn’t laughing but I was so overwhelmed by the fight, then the pigsty, then the cork screw that I didn’t know what else to do.

I called my friend crying and explained what had happened… with a five minute pep talk I pulled my self together drove to the nearest bottle shop and bought a cork screw.

Part of me really didn’t want to go back, but I really didn’t want to be rude and I kind of felt sorry for the poor guy.

I drove back and we ate overcooked chicken sitting on the dirty couch (he didn’t have a dining table due to crammed in bunk beds).

After all that went down he still thought he had a chance at making a move, with a bleeding nose and all. I made it quite clear no funny business would be happening and it was time for me to go.

I left and never saw him again.

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Todays Dating Tips

Never accept a home cooked meal as a first date.

If your date asks you to leave to get a cork screw…run and never go back!

Crying can help you feel better

he did what?

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I had just arrived in London on a 2 year working trip… missing summer and missing home I begrudgingly agreed to be set up on a blind date.

It couldn’t hurt, why not I thought. Besides I didn’t know many people in London.

My door bell rang right on time. 7pm. Slightly terrified at what was going to be behind the door to greet me, I opened it.

There standing before me was a pale, tall,  semi balding looking specimen. Somewhat oversized. Not oversized in a rugged hansome type of way more of a chubby cheek, man boob kind of way.

But what the heck… I had already agreed and I couldn’t back out the oversized man was standing in my doorway… so I smiled politely shut the door behind me and off we went.

We walked to his vehicle.. a gold champagne coloured Porsche, Boxster. At this stage I wasn’t sure whether to run for my life or quickly get into the car in the hope no one would see me. So god help me I got in.

Oversized Frank ( my date) was so smooth he insisted we drive with the roof down… let me remind you November in London is bloody FREEZING!!! But oh no Frank didn’t care he was happy to show of his near balding head to the gawking pedestrians.

In spite of been absolutely and utterly embarrassed and just plain freezing I smiled and politely pretended like I thought he was uber cool for driving a gold coloured convertible in minus 5 degrees.

We arrived at dinner… and things went from bad to worse.

During the main course Frank managed to spill a glass of red wine which splattered all over my white, very cute, very expensive top. I laughed it off, inside I was screaming… I wanted to leave. Conversation had dried up an hour ago and we were on to the topic of ‘who was your childhood sweetheart’… I mean seriously we were hitting it off.

We skipped desert and got the bill. I always offer to pay. So I did. AND I kid you not he said “lets go halves”…

We walked out to the gold car. He offered to drive me home.. A tempting offer (not!?!),  but politely declined and said I would jump in a cab instead to save him the hassle.

He leant in for the kiss… on the lips. (SERIOUSLY!?!?!) I mean what planet was this Martian from.

The next day I got a text. it read ” Hi sweetie , nice to meet you, sorry about the wine spill, dinner Saturday night?”

I said “Hi Frank, Thanks for dinner, you’re great but just got out of a relationship and not really wanting to date at the moment. If anything changes I will let you know”

He said ” Potato head no problems,  call me if you are ever up for a good time 😉 ”

And with the memory I would take with me for eternity …being called a Potato head, i deleted his number and never looked back.

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Todays Dating Tips

Don’t ride in a convertible in winter

Don’t ever ride in a gold porsche

Blind dates are dangerous

Some men think it’s ok to call a woman ‘potato head’

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If you have an outrageous dating story let us know!

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