The Son of Satan

As I've said before it's SO rare that I get asked out in a 'normal' situation, which is why I've relied on the Internet.  But this one week day evening just over a month ago a man got on my tube who I saw 'clock me' and I thought, 'Not bad, in a Sting kinda way'.  He was definitely older, dressed in black skinny-ish jeans (not the emo kind), smart black shoes and a t-shirt with a blazer.  Anyway the seat next to me became free and he sat down.  

I noticed out the corner of my eye he kept glancing at me.  I made sure I was sitting straight and not slouching half off the seat like a slob, and read my book.  When the train pulled into the final stop we both got off the train and as usual I did nothing and walked away (trying to be uber-sexy and not stack-it, in case he was watching of course).  Well it was more of a march really, I lost the ability to walk slow or stroll when I started working in London about 12 years ago.  Anyway like something out of movie he came running after me through the crowds and in a nutshell said he thought I looked lovely and could he take my number!!  Well bugger me sideways, I nearly fell backwards onto the tracks in shock.  I almost replied "You talkin' to me?"  Instead I blushed coyly and stepped aside out the way of the heard of commuting cattle.

I was so surprised and taken aback from being asked out by a complete stranger, he's got balls, I have to give him that!  I said "Yeah sure" and gave him my number.  I did a sly once-over while he wrote down my number and thought 'Okay, so maybe as he's older he won't be an emotional fuckwitt, he might actually know what he wants in a relationship and not mess me about'.

Anyway he asked what I was doing this evening, if I had no plans why not grab a drink now, no time like the present n' all that?  I know, The Rules (that stupid old dating book some crusty old virgin grannies wrote to stop their daughters and granddaughters having any fun or sex!) says never to accept a date unless you've about a month's notice and all that but I just thought 'Why not?  Beats spinning anyway'.  So I said not much and we decided to go for a drink.  


We went to one of my locals (I just love to shit on my doorstep), and got a drink.  When Jesus (that's clearly not his name, but it makes me laugh to call him that) and I sat down I had to ask what his tattoos showing out the bottom of him sleeves were all about.  I'm sure I spied 666 on one of them.

Jesus said "Do you want the long or short story?"  I said "How about an honest one?"  To which he said "So this is 666, my birthday is 6th June, 1966.  And these", he said indicating to butchers hooks in both his wrists "...are hooks attached to barbwire".  Shit, why didn't I see that!  I asked "Where does that stop then?" to which he replied "Well, it doesn't.  It goes up both arms and connects across my chest and shoulders.  And on my back is a naked woman bound to a cross.  You're okay with this aren't you?"  Why didn't I say "Course not, I'm off, don't follow me" and leg it?  What did he expect me to say to that?  "Sure" I replied, pulling a stupid 'Don't be silly' kinda face.

Anyway this guy then pulls out a pack of fags and says "Mind if we go out for a smoke?  It's been one of those days".  So we went outside and sat down, he said "So I feel I need to explain about the tattoos then.  I had a bit of a dark phase (you don't say), I was kicked out of the army, had a lot of knock backs in my life and was just generally very down.  I looked into my date of birth, did a lot of research into Satan and the devil and stuff... ya know... I was just interested in it all really.  Then someone suggested I express myself in tattoo art, so I thought I'd get it on my back.  I mean, it's really arty, looks really good...but I guess it can look a bit scary to some.  You're not one of those people that hates tattoos are you?"  I just shook my head, "Nah, but only if it's not offensive" I lied.  I mean, what I wanted to say was 'Oh sure, I'd love to be your girlfriend on a lovely beach somewhere when you take your top off and all the mothers run to cover their young children's eyes.  That thing sounds like it should be rated 18!'  Where do I find them?  

He also went on to explain that working as a fashion photographer he dabbled (a lot by the sounds of it) in drugs (the white kind) liked to go on all-weekend benders that would involve getting home from one club on a Sunday morning,showering and going back out to another and has a child with his ex wife (she also dabbles) sesh a couple of weeks ago, followed by "I really need a big night out again soon, you should come with me, I'll take you to here, here, here and here...."  Well that's three too many "here's" for me to keep up really.  I said that while I might have the occasional cigarette I couldn't date a smoker either as I'm a push-over and would just fall back into smoking full-time again.  He did the back-tracking thing again and said he only smoked when he was drinking, but someone who does that in my eyes doesn't carry a pack of 20 around in your work bag.


I told Jesus that I was really flattered he'd asked me out but I felt that he was changing what he was saying about himself to try and suit me more and that I didn't think we'd have much in common these days (I know, I was shocked I could be so honest face-to-face too) but he still insisted that his social life was less crazy than he was coming across.  He said that he had Faithless tickets in a few months time and would like to take me anyway.  Bless.  That's a kind offer, but I sent him a text a few days later saying I didn't think we should meet up again.  I didn't want to appear to be an ungrateful sod... face-to-face anyway!


Anyway... you thought that was the end.... nope.  Guess who was standing behind me on the platform and tapped me on the shoulder, the very next day...

Speed Dating, Wine Tasting...

Earlier this month, well literally a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine sent me a link to a wine tasting singles event.  I thought..."Why not?"  Now, who to drag along with me...?


This event runs at various locations across London and you can either attend wine tasting, cocktail tasting, or champagne tasting; all in the presence of fellow singletons looking to meet a certain someone.  Not that I was getting my hopes up about actually meeting someone I might fancy there, more for the blog material really.  I decided to book my ticket and go along. 


I managed to drag a single male friend of mine along, thank god.  Because when the cab dropped us off at what was meant to be the venue, we were a little lost.  It was in a bar that was part of a huge residential complex and hotel, but we couldn't see any sign of the bar.  There was a restaurant and swimming pool in there too.  I know this because we got lost inside, trying to find the bar.  My friend and I walked into the entrance to what looked like a restaurant/bar and were greeted by a member of staff who said "Table for two?"  "Er, no... we're here for a... er... function?" I replied.  By then a young chap who was also lost and following us around like a lost puppy found us, and a couple of girls were behind him.  I didn't want to say "I'm here for the single's event!"  


He showed us through the restaurant overlooking the pool, out the back and basically did a loop of where we'd just been, walked us out the door we came in and pointed up the other end of the road where we'd just walked, and said "It's in the champagne bar up there".  My friend, lost pup and I walked around this massive complex and still didn't find it.  One of my pet hates is being late and we were already 20 minutes behind.

We stumbled across it purely by fluke in the end, after doing a full lap of this place.  I don't know how that waiter expected us to find it with those dodgy directions!  Anyway on arriving we registered, gave our names, put on our sticky address label name-badges and quickly scanned the room.  I knew this event was going to be light on the man-front because women's tickets were sold out (so 25 women there, my mate was pleased) and men's tickets were 2-4-1, so I wasn't expecting much. 

My mate made my buy him a drink for dragging him along to this event, so at the bar we did a quick tally up.  One group at the bar together included about three guys and three girls, none of which stood out.  There were two girls sitting at a table and few more scattered about at the back.  Matey-boy and I looked at each other with mutual agreement that it was going to be a painful night, so we'd best enjoy the wine at least!

Once everyone had arrived the host explained how the night would work.  There were about five tables of around four or five girls, the guys (all aged between 24-38) were split into groups and were to go to their first assigned table with two glasses of the first wine, one for them and one for a girl, and sit at the table.  The idea was that you'd have around 15 minutes in that group tasting and talking about the wines and getting to know each other before the guys take the empties and collect the following wine to take to the next table.  We each had a score card (not sure if that's what it was called but that's what it felt like) where you'd mark the name of the person (if any of course) you'd like to meet again, your email address on the top, and any comments about them.  They all got handed into the host at the end of the night so any comments would make fun bedtime reading for her!  She'd then tally up and send you the email addresses of those interested in you and yours to those you'd selected.

Okay, this could work.  I like the fact that it's not one on one, having questions fired at me.  The other girls on my table were cool, and we'd already had a bit of banter before getting started.  If anything it should be an alright night.

The wine boff explained his bit.  He mentioned that on each table were questionnaires about the wines (which wine was from what region, that sort of thing).  He held up a glass and started to explain about where on the tongue we taste certain things...and then this German bloke on the back table piped up (you'll have to read this with a German accent) "Excuse me, could I have zee glass of vine please?"  "Sorry you will be asked to collect he wine in a moment, I'm just running through the demonstration", explained the wine boff.  The other women on my table and I all rolled our eyes at each other and one said "Ugh God, wonder who's gonna end up with that one!"  "How the heck did he manage to get in here anyway, he's well over 38!!" I replied.  "But it vould be easier if ve had zee glass of vine vile you speak" he continued... "I'll finish the demonstration first then the wine will be handed out".  That told you!


He managed to finish his demonstration and along came the first round of guys.  On my right was a guy my mate and I called Flannelette Jumper Guy.  And he had slight man-boobage too.  Not great in that jumper.  Opposite was a guy I thought said worked in accounting or banking, I wasn't quite sure.  He didn't strike my fancy though.  As there were a few men missing the seat on my left was empty.  Great, no where to turn.  So I got stuck into the quiz (out comes my competitive side).  It was a white wine, pretty minging, possibly a Chardonnay, yeah, that's what I'll tick.  The other girls on my table chatted to the guys and we all had a go at the quiz.  When the host called for the guys to move on we necked our glasses and said our farewells.  The next round brought a South African chap on my right, and a guy opposite I can't quite recall.  The chair to my left again sat empty.  The girls and I were wondering if maybe we had an imaginary date there as there was a bum shaped dent in the seat!


The next round brought The German, he plonked in the seat next to me and introduced himself.  I thought I'd help the girls out by talking to him, so I asked "Hi, so what do you do?"  He said he invests in the Asian market.  I said "Well there's a lot to invest in, what in particular?"  Vietnamese stock market, well I'd just come back from 'Nam so I started yabbering on about my trip noticing that he was investing quite a bit of time oggling my own produce down my top, and with really offensive breath I was expecting gratitude of the girls on my table for 'taking one for the team' here!  Time passed quickly with that round, thank gawd, and as they left the girls leaned in and thanked me for steering him away.


The wine was flowing now and the questions were being filled in.  I nearly forgot my score card!  As I joke I ticked my mate as someone I wanted to see again (well, least he'd get one email address next week art the least), and in the comments wrote "utter cock (my mate)" just to give the poor host a chuckle when she reviewed the cards.


The guys changed again, ah the chair on the left was filled with.... Velvet Jacket Guy!  A creepy long haired chap so nervous and uncomfortable in his own skin (and velvet jacket) I was worried about scaring the shit out of him.  The conversation between us girls turned to the other events and I mentioned that there's a champagne tasting event based in Chelsea, Velvet Jacket guy said in a really uncomfortable nervous voice "Oh, er, I nearly bought a place in Chelsea".  "Oh wow, where did you end up buying then?"  I replied.  "Croydon".  Eh? Did I hear him right?  "Croydon?  Er, Chelsea, Croydon, Chelsea, Croydon,I don't know, it's a tough call, what made you chose Croydon?" I asked "Er, ah, I, er got a detached house".  Velvet Jacket Guy was in the movie industry.  What he did though I don't know.  I would think him to be a bit of a liability on any film set, he was really quite creepy, and very nervous, poor chap, shouldn't have sat next to me.


The next round brought the only hot guy in the room, who I later found out was actually seeing one of the girls on my table, sort of.  They'd had a few dates anyway but she said to me "I don't mind if you tick him though and have a date, really!"  Aaaah how sweet.  No thanks though, I'm not into sharing.  


Then the round with my mate, and BOY did he hit it off with one of the girls on my table.  The other girl and I looked at each other halfway through the round and said to each other "Shall we...er... leave 'em to it??"  Ha ha.  Everything he'd done she'd done and vice-versa.  She and I later swapped business cards because she and I had something in common and I wanted to pick her brains about something.  At least I'd met a potential drinking buddy/singleton if not a hot date.  And hopefully my mate made a mutual connection!


By the end of the night the stragglers were all pretty sozzled, there was a small group of us left and my mate and I noticed Flannelette Jumper Guy was actually hitting it off with some hot blonde Doctor and was actually touching her arm.  Crikey the wine was obviously kicking in cause he was SO batting above his station.


I handed back my score card and munched some of the free deep-fried nibbles served at the end and my mate and I skipped off (OK, more a drunken swaying stagger to a cab) to Soho for some gay-clubbing madness.  Don't know why, neither of us are gay!


I wouldn't call the night a success, nor would I say it was a total wash out.  I ended up getting an email the following week with three email addresses!  OH!  Who's were they............ South African (wasn't attracted to him), Velvet Jacket Guy (was actually a bit scared of him) and.... oh.... my mate.  Because he was pissed by the time we left he panicked and ticked the box that said "I'd like to meet everyone again" because he couldn't remember anyone's names!  Ha ha.  He also received three email addresses, one was a cuddly journo, one was a musician with a lazy eye (who I think was quite cute) and the other was mine!  The one we'd both wanted to hear from blew us both out!


So maybe the next one will be champagne tasting in Chelsea with some slightly older more eligible men.  Who knows.  Watch this space....

Sisterly Love

A few years ago I dated, albeit rather briefly,  a guy who my Aunt picked out for me on Match.com.  I was showing her and my Mum one evening after the pub, men who I was thinking of contacting online.  She'd picked him in particular because a few of his photos were of him travelling around South America and he'd had a shaved head in some, hair in others, and was a good looking guy and probably had some interesting stories to tell.  


Dan hadn't long returned from travelling and didn't currently have a job, so our first date was at a cheap crappy place he'd suggested that you'd find in a retail park or cinema complex.  I'm not going to say the name because quite frankly I am a little embarrassed about it!  The meal was a bit strange because he had an illness which meant he needed to avoid eating certain things.  What I gathered from this was that he could eat greasy food and hot curries (weird).  Anyway, we just shared some greasy deep fried starters and had a couple of cocktails, but the evening went well, restaurant and food choice aside.  We chatted about his travels and he had some interesting stories to tell.  He also talked about his sister.  In his words she was "very pretty with long blond hair, slim, and a really funky dresser".  Alright love, it's me you're on the date with!  


We had a few more dates, and on one evening in particular, after seeing a movie (which I'd sprung for because he was skint), we had our first sleepover night at my house.  We came home sober and well behaved.  We were having a cuppa and a snog in the lounge.  On closer inspection I noticed he had very neat eye brows.  I asked if they were naturally like that.  He replied that he has them waxed.  Oh, I have a metro-sexual here.  After a bit we went upstairs and I left him in my room while I nipped to the bathroom to 'freshen up'.  When I went back to my room Dan was in bed, in his undies, sitting up, with greasy stuff all around his eyes.  "Bang goes the romance then" I thought.  So, was I meant to just strip off and get in?  Isn't he going to lay me down on the bed and take my clothes off for me, one by one?  Maybe notice that I've got really nice expensive matching undies on?  Nah?  Okay then.  This isn't what was meant to happen!  I said "Whats that all around your eyes?"  "It's eye cream" He said.  As if this was normal.  "Oh... okay".  I did what I had to and stripped off and got in.  I didn't even bother doing it seductively, while humming a strip tease tune.  I felt like an old married couple already and it was only the first sleepover.  When I saw him out in the morning I noticed a strange patch on the living room wall, just above the back of the sofa.  On closer inspection I realised it must have come from his hair gel!  Oh my god... "SOUL GLOW" (other hair gels and styling products are available).  

After a few days we met up again and went for a few drinks.  In the pub I asked "So what have you been up to today?"  Dan explained that his sister got clipped round the head by a passing bus in London the other day (how unfortunate), and while she was okay (shame), work let her have a couple of days off to rest.  So he'd spent the day round there.  He said when he got there he asked his sister what she'd been up to (she was getting bored of being in doors) and she said she'd shaved her bits.  I nearly spat my drink in his face "She said what?"  I asked, mortified.  "She said she'd shaved her lady garden" he said, as if this was as totally normal conversation to have with your sibling.  Then he said "...and she showed me and said "Look!" to him" (while saying this he mimed pulling the front of his trousers down and flashing his bits.  My face must have been a picture.  I didn't quite know what to say.  "Are you kidding?  Your sister flashed you her privates and you act like that's completely normal?" I said.  He replied "Me and my sister are really close though.  We go on holidays in a four some, with her mate and my mate.  She said to me one time in the pool on holiday that she thought she needed a boob job, and she whipped them out of her bikini top and asked me what I thought.  You know, it's just no big deal between us really". Hmm.  "I think I am going to have trouble with this one" I thought.


Now... I have brothers.  I love them to bits, but under no circumstances, not even if I'd been stung by a jelly fish and needed one of them to pee on me, am I flashing my genital area at them or would I condone them flashing theirs at me.  No way.  Uh-uh.


Dan and I didn't for much longer after this.  Is it weird that since this guy I have always been keen to find out if there is a sister, how close they are and how old she is?  I know from being a sister that they can be quite territorial over their brothers, but to me, it sounded like Dan and his sis made the perfect couple.  Real 'soul mates'.

The Environmentalist

I met this man, lets call him Andy, on a dating site and agreed to meet him one week night after work, in my favourite local cocktail bar.  When meeting dates I sometimes try to be about 5 minutes late, just so I'm not the one sitting there like a lemon, waiting and trying not to look uncomfortable if he's watching.... or dread to think, being blown out because he's seen me and runs in the opposite direction!  As it happens he was there before me.  I walked in my heart sank straight away because I knew I didn't find him attractive but was soooooo put off by the attire.  I know I might sound snobby or shallow but if I don't like it I don't like it.  He wore black shoes that looked like the ones we'd worn in school, a long navy blue v-necked winter coat that can only be described as (having worked with them for 10 years)  an accountants' coat, with a v-necked jumper underneath (no scarf to hide the two v's).  We had a couple of drinks and did the obligatory "getting to know you" chit-chat.  Andy then suggested grabbing something to eat, and as I was starving, having rushed home to freshen up and change and totter into town without getting a sweat-on I agreed.  Well, his company wasn't too bad, and I do have a tendency to stay a little too long even when I don't fancy them.  


So we had a nice enough dinner, but during the conversation he revealed that he was an environmental activist and on weekends he spends his time organising a team of people who go round the towns in the borough (probably in cars) in the mornings noting down the serial numbers of all the street lamps left on, wasting energy. Rather him than me!  I've not met anyone with such a weird pass-time. 


Between munching on over-greasy tapas we talked about driving and I mentioned that I didn't drive yet but was planning to start soon.  (I was rather late at passing my driving test.  I was nearly 30 and about to move to London, so I needed to be quick.  I was fortunate enough to pass first time though, not needing a low-cut top or short skirt thank you very much).  He asked me, "You don't drive?  You don't have a car?  But when you do pass your test you will get a car?"  Clearly, more concerned about the environment than he was I explained that while doing the long schlep of a commute to London by train I wouldn't need a car, so probably not, no.  He was so shocked and I think a little put off by it.  I didn't get it, why have a car if I'm not going to use it, who's the one concerned about the o-zone here matey?


At the end of the meal I excused myself to go to the bathroom and when I got back he'd paid for the meal....ooops.  I wasn't wanting that to happen knowing I wouldn't be seeing him again.  Anyway, on the walk to the car he said straight out "So I'd really like to see you again..."  Now... I NEVER just say it how it is here, I'm normally so embarrassed that I've been asked that question to my face that I normally just fumble a shy embarrassed blushing "Huh huh yeah me too" bluff and follow up with a text or email the next day (I know I know... I'm a wimp, just don't want the following to happen.....)


So this night I thought I would tell the truth straight up, for a change, so I said that the chemistry wasn't there for me but I did have a really good evening, to which he snapped back "Well at least you got a free meal out of it eh!"  I explained that I wanted to go 50/50 and was expecting to pay my own way and would even like to go via a cash point and give him half the money but he wasn't having any of it.  He had the hump. 


The next day believe it or not, Andy text me asking if he could make it up to me by cooking me dinner at his house, he said he'd drive over and pick me up and drop me home again after and I'd also be able to meet his two cats, one with three legs and one with an ear missing.  Delightful.  But I was still miffed at his reaction from the night before I didn't really want to see him again.  Happy light spotting for all I care!


What is the right protocol for ending a date when you know you don't want to see them again?  Personally I've had some incidents where men haven't taken the negative response very well face to face so I am more inclined to follow up the next morning with a "In reflection I don't think we're quite suited but I had a lovely evening, best of luck with your search" type of text!  Is that OK?

Mr Softie

Having returned from a huge holiday I've not been on any dates recently.  Well, not that recently anyway.  So in these dry times I'll share some corkers from dates gone by and this one springs to mind....

I met this guy online (no change there then),  let's call him Richard to save his reputation.  Anyway Richard was a Pap.  Celebrity photographer.  Professional Stalker. Whatever you wanna call it.  He got paid tons of cash for catching celebs looking their worst at crappy times of their lives.  One he liked to boast about on our date was catching Jade Goodie the day she found out her father died.  That's nice!  I now look back at this guy as a bottom feeder, and out him in the same group as the estate agent I dated!  But that's another story.

So back to er... what was his name?  Oh, Richard.  Anyway, he suggested dinner and offered to drive over to my area and pick me up, which was nice.  I didn't give him my house number but met him in the car park.  He pulled up in an Audit TT (I'm thinking hairdresser!)  But as I opened the door and the interior lit up I thought "Scher-winnnnnng".  He was cute!  We went on a lovely dinner date, we chatted loads but I started to think he was a little opinionated.  I was an occasional smoker at the time, and he complained about a past date that lamped up at the table in front of him, I mean ew, as if!!  This date was clearly before the smoking bad had hit England.  I'd had a wee pack in my bag for later, oops.  Anyway I thought "Ooh, best not mention my little part-time habit then", which he obviously missed on my profile!  

After dinner, as it was quite late and he had a long drive back, he dropped me off and I let him walk to me to my door.  At the door he leaned in for a snog, but as we were playing tonsil tennis he got a little carried away and launched for my neck!  Aaaagh get off!  Someone seemed to be getting a little excited, said the bump pressing on my thigh!  Haha... Oh lordy, time to go then!  I backed off and said goodnight and that I'd like to see him again soon and that was that.  PHEW!  After he'd left the vicinity I changed my top into something a little more slutty and grabbed my back and went out to meet a mate in town for a few more drinks and boogie.

In the week to follow Richard's texts were flowing thick and fast, with a surprise call during the day while I was at work (he must have been bored while stalking some D-lister!) he was seeming pretty keen. 

One afternoon while at work I mentioned I was leaving early to go home for a family dinner.  He'd already called me that day while at work anyway, but called again when he knew I was on the train home, and said at the end of the conversation "Call me when you get in tonight" to which I thought "er no".  Had we not already spoken twice in one day and not even had date #2 yet?  While at dinner at my Mums he'd text again, phone was on silent but I had no intention of replying or calling when I got in, like a dutiful wife! 

The next day he was pretty rude in his text in the morning, and I'd explained that I was at a family dinner and was home late and didn't want to speak that late.  Anyway he wasn't pleased so I called him at lunch time and said "Look, if this is going to work you need to slow down a bit, I'm not going to be calling you 3 times a day and texting all day long and checking in with you when I get home at night" to which he replied "You women are all the same, trying to change men!"  I said "I'm not trying to change you, I'm saying that I don't go at warp speed, so if that's how you operate you'll need to find someone else".  Well you can imagine how the call ended.  He hung up on me in a sulk and that was the end of that.  Another one bites the dust.

Well... later that day with too much time on his hands while sitting on his car stalking he sent me a photo text message of his flaccid penis on his lap and it said "On a hot day like this you need a Mr Softie!"  I replied (well, I had to) and said "What part of "I don't think we should see each other again means please send me a picture of your penis?" and he replied "What makes you think it's mine?"  I had to send back the obvious "Er, it's on your phone!!!"

I can understand sending a picture of something you're proud of, to someone you're in a relationship with, I'm sure we've all done it, but to someone who doesn't want to see you again?  And, it really wasn't worth boasting about, it looked a little parched!