So in the blog before last I told you how excited I was after matching a man on Tinder who I thought was the ultimate man, Omar. I got a bit over excited about Omar because we had that immediate banter bond, we had the same sense of humor, and he was bright and sharp, and on top of that he was model level hot and he worked as a paediatric surgeon delivering life saving training in third world countries. I mean come on now, forgive me for moving too quickly but this guy could have proposed on Tinder and I would have said yes. We exchanged frequent messages for a few days but we never progressed from Tinder to WhatsApp. He expressed his keenness and we had a venue, but not a day, in the diary for our first date. And then we swapped Insta details (my personal obviously – he would have been terrified if he saw this one) and everything changed.
I had already stalked his open Instagram carefully, making extra sure that I didn’t like anything accidentally and so I knew what I was getting. Once we officially became Insta friends I liked a picture of him wearing grey jogging bottoms (he was wearing them well) and a picture of a newspaper article about him and all the outstanding work he has done for the children of the world (swoon). He responded by liking three pictures of my son. I was only in one of them, along with Father Christmas. I actually tower over Santa in the picture, even though I’m only 5ft 3, because of the angle he looks like a little gnome next to a giant in a Zara jacket. Basically, I did not look good. I instantly knew. I do not give a fuck what anyone says, there is meaning behind likes, and he definitely chose not to like any individual pictures of me because he wanted me to know that he didn’t fancy me. It’s actually slightly creepy to like pictures of my son, someone suggested that it may be him trying to show that he is accepting of dating a woman with a child but I don’t buy that. He messaged me twice after seeing my Insta but he took hours to reply each time I would respond and in the end the messages just stopped.
I’m not going to lie, I was freaking out, I was scouring my Insta for signs of where it all went wrong. Is it because I’m getting progressively bigger in each picture over the last 12 months? Is it because I’ve got my hair tucked behind my ear in one picture and I look like the BFG? Is it because I look boring ’cause all my pictures are of me at Shrek adventure or the farm and his are all white water rafting off the Grand Canyon and feeding monkeys by hand in Outer Mongolia? I don’t know, but I had major Insta-esteem issues for about 2 days. I archived some pictures, I went ham on posting pictures of me at my work Christmas do and hot #TBT selfies in the hope of getting at least a small sign of appreciation from him, but nothing. I got a few ‘hey stranger’ DMs though, but nobody of any interest.
So alas, I had to concede and remind myself that it is not that big of a deal that he has looked at my Insta and felt his balls shrivel up. He is not the only man, and it really does not mean that I am not attractive to other men. I have exchanged Insta details with men before and gone right off them because they have come across differently or looked different on it and it has put me off, 1000’s of other women would be feeling the complete opposite to me though, and lots of guys have fancied me based on my Insta alone so his opinion of me is not the be all and end all. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and quite frankly I do not need male validation to feel sexy and so this whole notion of only feeling hot if men make me feel hot is absolutely tragic. But anyway, now that I have been following him on Insta for a while I have gone right off him myself. His stories are so fucking cringe. He comes across as really arrogant and he is constantly talking in weird accents. His posts are annoying too. He can’t just post a picture, he has to write some big sentimental caption, for example, on a picture of him and his mate laughing it’ll be:
‘The ones you laugh with are the ones that heal you. The ones that heal you are the ones that make you progress. From life on the block to high flying careers, when your mates ride through it with you then you know that they are family. John is more than family to me, he is my soul brother. John, I would have your back in any situation and I would take a bullet for you. They say that blood is thicker than water, which means that John is blood. Nothing is as dense as the bond we have. To greater things in 2018, lets keep on exceeding expectations and smashing this thing they call life #brothers #lions’
It’ll be a similar theme on a picture of a tree. Like:
‘This is the tree I used to sit under when I was contemplating my future, just a young kid listening to Tupac and Biggie on my walkman, watching the leaves sway as my destiny unfolds in my mind….’
Give it a fucking rest Omar. I’ve honestly had enough of his shit and I might have to unfollow. A few days after I got over Omar (because you do have to get over them, even if you’ve never met them and have only exchanged about 48 messages on Tinder), I started talking to Marc. Marc looked familiar to me when I matched him on Tinder but I couldn’t figure out why. He was right up my street, 6ft 5, looked a bit like James Franco but a kind of darker version. He was half Egyptian, quarter Jamaican, and quarter Polish Jew. He had a great job, but he’s the only person that does that job so I can’t tell you what it is. He dressed really well and I checked out his Insta as it was attached to his Tinder and he seemed legit. I fancied him and we had a good connection. He was quite similar to me, we grew up in the same area and knew a lot of the same people. We had similar interests and he seemed much more like me than Omar actually did. I’m more Netflix and Dominos than Niagara Falls and chilli infused rats tail. I just don’t think I would have fit in to his spontaneous travel the world lifestyle. I’m a Mum, I need at least 3 months to arrange a week away from my son. So yeah, Marc was looking like he was a bit of me.
I was thrilled when I showed his picture to my sister and she rang me and said:
‘HE IS MY GOOOOOOD FRIEND!!! I tried to hook you up years ago, you are perfect for each other!!’
That’s why he looked familiar, I had seen him on my Sister’s Facebook. I don’t really remember her trying to hook us up or which fuckboy I was involved with at the time to have declined the offer but I was happy that I had the validation of my sister. She knows him well and she assured me that he’s a good one. We had an afternoon of steady back and forth whatsapping before we exchanged Insta details, and after we did the conversation went quiet. He did not like one picture and he left me on blue ticks for an hour. I messaged my sister and said:
‘Do I look butters on my Insta? Because this keeps happening. Guys are really keen and then they see my Insta and stop messaging me. Marc seems to have done it. I need your help. Where am I going wrong?’
And then 2 minutes later:
‘OK scrap that, panic over, he just messaged back and liked 4 pictures. Back in the game’
Marc called me later that night and we had a great conversation and agreed to meet for a drink the following night which was the night before Christmas Eve. He called me on the morning of the date and we had another great chat. I really liked this guy, obviously only as much as you can like someone after a few hours, which is not much, but I saw potential in him. I didn’t drop my son to his Dad’s until late Saturday afternoon and so I had not got much done and I had a mountain of presents to wrap. I really wanted to see him but I really did not want to go out, I had loads to do and so I made the executive decision to invite him over to help me wrap. Now here I have to add a disclaimer, because my advice about NEVER having a first date at your house still stands. Meeting men from Tinder and showing them where you live is dangerous. You should never risk it. And on top of that, inviting a man to your house makes him think that you are going to have sex, it makes it more likely that you will accidentally have sex too. So if you don’t want that, avoid the home-based dates. But I had done a careful risk assessment, mainly based on the fact that he is a close friend of my sister’s, that I know other people that know him, and because of the job that he does. I knew for sure that I was not going to get raped or murdered and that he wasn’t a catfish
I had also explained to him that I was celibate and that there was absolutely no chance of anything happening. You might think it is hypocritical to give out advice and not take it myself, but I would disagree. My advice will help to keep you safe. Some of you will find yourselves in similar situations to mine and as experienced, mature women, will do your own risk assessments and break the rules a bit if you deem that things will be safe. But as a blanket rule, and for less experienced daters, it is important to stick to the basic safety guidelines. I contemplated even writing about this date because I really did not want to influence younger women to think it’s safe to invite men you haven’t met to your house, it’s not, but in this case it was…so we shall continue.
We chatted throughout the day leading up to the date and at no point did I think for a moment that I might not fancy him, it didn’t cross my mind even once. I like house dates because you can wear sexy slouch chill gear which always makes your bum look big and wobbly, I think I look my best in pyjamas. So I did my best natural make up and put on a matching tracksuit and started cooking some pasta. He messaged me to say that he was 2 minutes away and at that moment the thought crossed my mind that it would be really shit if I didn’t fancy him. I laughed it off and reminded myself that I had seen hundreds of his Insta pictures and that he was my type. And then my bell went. I slowly walked to the door so that I didn’t look too keen, and when I opened it I had to try hard to not express my disappointment on my face. He was fucked. Literally fucked. Like, he was clearly the same guy from the pictures, but he looked COMPLETELY different in real life. Firstly, he was about 50 shades lighter. I don’t know what filter he was using but this guy was white, pale white. He was very tall and slim, and his mouth turned inwards when he smiled revealing too much gum. He also had a huge boil on his forehead, in-between his eyes, that looked like a volcano that was about to erupt. I turned away from him to lead him into the house and briefly closed my eyes and said a silent ‘FUCK.’
I talked myself through it. I told myself that it is not about looks and that I can grow to fancy him, and that if my sister thinks he is gorgeous then he must be one of those people who become more attractive when you get to know them and so I did not write him off completely. He bought with him 2 bottles of wine but 1 was already half drunk, cheers Marc. I told him that I don’t actually drink wine and so I left him to crack on with the rest of the bottle while I drank rum. Marc and I got on just as well face to face and so I relaxed into the date and actually his face did become more pleasing. He was complimentary of my cooking and we both chilled and laughed while I wrapped presents. After about 2 hours Marc said that he fancied a ‘little livener’. I knew that he meant coke and I told him that I did not fancy any type of livener, it was the night before Christmas Eve when I was due to be performing in my role as Santa and dealing with an over excited 6 year old, I did not want to be recovering from a 15 hour bender while laying out carrots for Rudolph . Cocaine is not a good drug to do with a man you don’t fancy either. It gets them horny and it can lead to mistakes. I just was not feeling it at all.
A few minutes later Marc said that earlier that evening he was clearing out a draw and had found an old wrap with some coke in it. I was like OK then, and moved the conversation on. But Marc was not having it, next he wanted to check how much was left in there and whether it had gone off – because it was allegedly soooo old. To make sure, he set up a line on the glass bit of his phone and soon confirmed that it had not passed it’s expiry date. I was quite horrified to be honest, he knew that I wasn’t on it, why would you want to do coke on your own? On a first date? He is either an addict, or he wanted to see if a bit of coke was enough to entice me to break my whole celibacy, the coke whore test. I started cleaning up the kitchen and when I turned around he had racked up 3 more lines on his phone. I sat down and continued to wrap presents and I told him that I was getting tired. As he grew more high his conversation declined rapidly. We got into a discussion about what we were doing on New Year’s eve and he started to spout some conspiracy theorist shit about new year’s not even being a real thing because, in his words:
‘What are months? Months are not a real thing, they are a government construct designed to control us’
And obviously I couldn’t help but be like:
‘BRUV are you stupid or what? Months are real, months are fucking important. I know when my birthday is because of months’.
I could not deal with it, and to make matters worse he had white powder around his nostrils and that white prittstick stuff was forming in the corners of his mouth. I could not believe it. My sister had obviously lost the plot. I got up to clean again, every time he did a line of coke I would wipe the table around him. It was pissing me off, this was my clean house, and I wanted him to fuck off. As I stood up he said under his breath ‘Arghhh I just want to slap your….’ and then he stopped. Obviously he was not going to say face, although I wouldn’t have put anything past this non-month believer by that point, it made me uncomfortable because it was clear that he was now in horny coke mode which I absolutely did not want Marc to be in. I told him that it was time for him to call an Uber but he had 8 lines racked up on his phone and so he had to wait a while for his phone to be useable again. I think it was a tactic to stay longer. He kept saying ‘I didn’t buy this tonight you know, I never intended to do this, it was just laying around, didn’t even know it was there until I found it’, but he was protesting far too much. Marc had definitely drunk half a bottle of wine and thought waaheyyyy she said present wrapping but she meant a drug fueled orgy and some crazy conversations, let me pick up some coke on the way.
I had a random Youtube selection playing on my TV and LL Cool J ‘Doing It Well’ came on, Marc said ‘Oh wow, why did you have to put this tune on? This makes me animalistic, realistic….’ I grabbed the remote and turned the whole TV off at the speed of lightening. The room fell into sudden silence. Marc told me that he was joking and that ‘I am taking everything too seriously’. What the fuck does animalistic, realistic, mean other than I want to fuck you? Before he could say ‘boombastic, telefantastic, touch me on my back she calls me Mr Ro…mantic’ I told him that he needed to call an Uber right away. He was embarrassed and seemed to sober up a bit. He kept apologising for doing coke and saying that he knew he had fucked things up now. He was right. But he should have thought about that before he decided to have his Kerry Katona moment.
I didn’t hear from Marc again for 2 days but he messaged me on Christmas Day with that video of the old Indian guy wrapped in fairy lights, dressed as a tree singing a little song and dancing. I replied ‘Is that your Dad?’ and he replied ‘My Dad’s dead’. And that was pretty much the end of that. I have had words with my sister. She had a baby a year ago and she hasn’t seen her old friend’s so much recently. She said that she never knew him to be like that. I guess that we show different sides of our characters to different people too. He wasn’t a bad guy, he was just a twat for taking coke on a first date with someone who was not doing it, because everyone looks like a dick when they are fucked to those who are sober. It was a real shame because had he not gone all Charlie Sheen on my arse, then we would have definitely had another date. So one date down and I am thoroughly bored of Tinder now, it’s still on my phone but I rarely use it. I matched with a guy a week or so ago and I keep ignoring his messages but once every few days I’ll get a notification showing me another message from him and they are all like this:
‘What’s your favourite cuisine to cook?’
‘How would you spend a million pounds right now?’
‘Can you dance?’
I just cannot be arsed. So it’s back to chilling on the man front. I don’t need to search. I’m content to just chill back and trust that the right one will appear. That date was great blog material but it was also annoying, and I should have known better than to invite a relative stranger to my house because even though I knew it would be safe, I failed to consider how irritating it could prove to be, so I have to get better at doing what I say. You don’t need to do as I say or as I do, but if you ever are feeling inspired by my words then it’s those that you should use as guidance, not my actions. My actions are usually the opposite of what I should do, although I am learning. It’s a news years resolution. Here’s to a happy 2018 x