So with another unsuccessful speed dating session under my belt and feeling less optimistic about the male species than usual, I surrender to my fate and get back on the hinge horse for another round of tedious Sunday swiping.
This time I’m not going to waste a moment with small talk. As soon as I match with Joe, 33, fashion designer and a couple of back and forth formalities are out the way I swoop in with a ‘fancy a drink next week?’ If the answer is yes perfect and if it’s no then I’ll move onto the next. New tactic nailed, it’s a yes and within a moment I have yet another first day arranged.
We work close by to each other near lots of nice bars so organising a venue should be easy. Unfortunately despite his fashion designer title he likes an old mans pub and as many of you know I’m definitely not an old mans pub type of girl. But I’m ready to branch out and maybe I need to be pushed out of my comfort zone, so I find myself meeting him in a busy Sam Smith pub. First impressions were a relief after my recent dating disasters. He’s my type in terms of looks, very easy to talk to and we have a lot in common career wise so conversation flows. As do the drinks. We stumble from one Sam Smith Pub to the next, passed the Charlotte Street Hotel, one of my favourite dating venues, with me thinking it’s better to be in a cheap pub with someone interesting and dare I say relatively normal! Well that’s what I thought at that point! The night continues, more drinks and I insist on a platter of food, as what’s a night out without some potato wedges and nachos?! We obviously had a cheeky snog and I went home thinking at last a straight forward, fun first date, which might actually lead to a second.
And for once it did. Second date he was definitely more nervous, took me to a much nicer bar. Conversation was a bit stunted at times and he did try to get me back to his, but I was having none of it. I’m not traipsing half way across London for a potential night of fun, funny how things change! Anyway, overall I’d give date 2 a solid 7 out of 10 and definitely ready to take it to a third date, which is not something you hear me say very often.
And date 3 is when the alarm bells ring. (But also a miracle I’ve finally got to a date 3!) This time we meet central near to work, I choose a nice pub and plan to go for dinner after depending on the vibe. Well the vibe doesn’t start well. He tries to change the location closer to him, as I don’t think he can be bothered to come into central. This teamed with the fact I’m already shattered and thinking about my pyjamas and slippers means I nearly cancelled the date. But he pulled it back and came into meet me. (but in hinds sight cancelling may have been the better option). So he turns up in a wind up mode, which is totally inappropriate for a third date and I’m certainly not in the mood for it, taking the piss out of my accent for the 100th time. I mean get over it, I have an east London come Essex accent, it’s really not that interesting. So I persevere and try to hold back my rolly eye. He then starts a staring competition with me and it’s at this point that I wonder why I am here? If I want a child I can go work in a nursery.
Anyway as much as I want to leave after our first drink, he starts kicking up a fuss and insists he came all the way in to see me and has missed me (missed me?! I’ve only known you for 3 weeks?!) so I have to proceed to dinner. Note to self – I need to master the act of leaving dates early. Now as I have mentioned he was acting like a child, and certain restaurants are not child friendly. This was one of them. As we know in London on a Thursday night, places get busy and the cosy, independent eateries are often packed. So I opt for the bar dining, which I usually absolutely love. Not when I’m with a child. He can’t sit still, constantly twitching. Can’t concentrate long enough to read the menu and is back and forth to the toilet. So I order my go to dishes and pray this dinner is over quickly. He feels it appropriate to try kissing me during eating and Even goes for a bum grab! When my coffee arrives which I’ve ordered to indicate it’s the end of dinner, he starts putting his hat on as if he’s leaving and then leans in to have a sip of my coffee! I’m all up for sharing but come on you can order your own coffee! Then his phone rings half way through a conversation, just before the bill is ordered and he insists he has to take it outside.
So off he goes, and my immediate thought is he’s done a grab and run on me. The bill hasn’t even arrived and he’s gone. And relief is my first feeling, I’m more than happy to pick up the bill if I never have to see him again. I’m merrily whatsapping my friends, laughing at how I’ve been left with the bill, and low and behold he comes back. This time in a completely different mood, on the brink of tears!! He then launches into his family drama which I’m not going to bore you lot with but results in me having to go for another drink else where to talk it all through with him! Why me?! He’s now holding my hand, talking like we are in a relationship and saying he can’t believe he’s not going to see me until I’m back back from my trip. (Babe, you will never be seeing me again). What a rollercoaster of a third date and definitely the reason I don’t agree to third dates lightly!
The next day when reliving the date to my work colleague over a tea, and explaining the twitching and mood swings, he first question was, ‘did he go to the toilet a lot?’ Erm yes he did go quite a few times! ‘He was definitely on drugs!’ Of course he was! That would explain a lot of the erratic behaviour. Back to hinge it is!