Searching for butterflies

 

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In less than 48 hours I will be in Dubai (nope, not emigrating unfortunately, just going for a weeks holiday) so thought I’d take this opportunity for a mini-rant before I go.

 

Over the last three weeks or so I seem to have taken an unintentional hiatus from dating, dates simply dried up and flaked out and I didn’t do my usual “conveyor belt” situation where I line up a guy for every time someone drops off. Instead I’ve been thinking & re-evaluating (possibly a little too much).

 

The guys I have been on dates with since my dating mission began late September have largely been pleasant, some went on to second and third dates, but none beyond that. What did these guys lack? Some were either good-looking, funny and charming but all lacked what I like to call “the butterfly effect”.

 

At one point it almost felt like I was agreeing to go on these dates for the sake of it, or worryingly, to give me ammunition for this blog. None of this list of guys made me want to check my phone every two minutes in case they text, and certainly none of them gave me goosebumps or butterflies when I met them. If anything, many of them irritated me or made me feel indifferent.

 

Based on this I’ve decided to take a break from online dating. I’ve deleted my profile from two of the paid websites so the only active one I have is on the free sites. I haven’t given up on finding Prince Charming but feel I’m more likely to find him via other means, so I will continue with singles parties and speed dating events as they have produced some success stories for my friends.

 

One of these success stories is my friend who met a guy at the padlock and key event we went to a couple of weeks back. She has now been on two dates with him and things are going well (despite the minor glitch, when he decided to take a 20 minute phone call during their second date).

 

Most single girls I talk to fall into two camps – those who are on a mission to meet Prince Charming (they are relentless in their quest) and those who are relaxed (perhaps a little too relaxed) and too picky. I think I fall into the second camp. I don’t want to be desperate but at the same time, in 10 years time I don’t want to be like the 41 year old single cashier who works in one of my branches (I have scary visions of this happening).

 

Weirdly, the French chef I went on a date with last year (he bought me a jar of Vegemite on our first date and tried to convince me it tasted better than Marmite – I disagreed) has found me on the dating website. He sent me an email asking what he had done wrong to make me not agree to date two.

 

In reality he hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, apart from tell me he only wanted to meet up with me for a second date if I stayed out with him all night and took the first tube home in the morning. I didn’t even live in London at this time so thought he was a total creep for even suggesting it. He keeps sending me messages like “can’t believe you are still single, its criminal to be so cute”.

 

So… am I feeling desperate enough to agree to another date with this guy? Hell no. Instead I will continue my quest in searching for butterflies, even if they are not full grown butterflies…just someone who genuinely gives me that feeling that I can’t wait for the next time we meet rather than secretly hoping my date cancels so I can go out drinking with my friends from work.

 

I am capable of having butterflies or in the case of my ex, almost electric shocks when I used to get texts or calls from him. And this is probably why I’m finding it difficult to settle for any less. Lets just hope when I do find Prince Charming he doesn’t turn out to be anything like the manipulative sociopath that I fell for last time.

 

In the meantime I’m on holiday for a week to Dubai – I wonder whether it will be anything like Sex In the City 2? Either way, I hope to come back with at least a couple of funny stories for you all

Valentines Week (More penguins and flaking)

Sunday – Flaked on my date and stayed in all day watching back to back movies (see previous post – The one where I flake out)

Monday – More penguins arrived (see previous post – The Thrifty guy and the penguin). Cheap porcelain penguins – an early valentines present or belated birthday present? Who knows? Also sent from Amazon like the fluffy penguin but no gift note. Went to dinner with a couple of girls I had got back in touch with. One who used to stalk my brother (she tried adding him on LinkedIn the next day) and one whose mother used to be friends with mine. Both very pleasant, but annoyingly teetotal.

Tuesday – Valentines day. I got very jealous of the beautiful roses suited men were carrying home on the train to their wives and girlfriends (or both). I didn’t even get a card, not even a joke one. Smug friends uploaded onto Facebook photos of flowers bought for them by their “gorgeous” boyfriends. Went to our local with my flat mate to classic movie night where they were playing Breakfast At Tiffanys. Shared a bottle of prosecco and cooed over how divinely stunning Audrey Hepburn looked.

I had a Facebook friend request from a guy I met last summer. I met him at a club in Camden when I approached him while he was sat with his friends. He was very tall, good looking, had amazing blue eyes and worked as a builder in Essex. Lets call him Tall Guy (he’s at least 6ft 4″) We had spent he evening chatting and kissing (ok, fine, mainly kissing). We had exchanged numbers and had spent the following two weeks texting each other several times a day. I got impatient and asked whether we would meet, he replied with “of course xxx”. I didn’t contact him again and didn’t hear from him again until just now. I assumed he didn’t want to meet because he may have had a girlfriend. I was a bit confused over how he had found me on Facebook as he only knew my first name, which is fairly common.

Wednesday – This was date night for my friends. My friend R went on a date with a guy she met at the Lock and Key party on Friday, it went well, she text me saying they clicked and that she was seeing him again on Saturday…happy days. My other friend went on a date with a guy she too met on the same night, again this sounded promising. My flat mate, however, was flaked on by her singles event host guy. We spent the evening watching cookery shows.

Thursday – I was meant to be going on a date with the guy I flaked on Sunday. However, warning bells rang on the night before when he said he would confirm on the day. He flaked. He text me apologising saying he was ill and that he couldn’t make it. I was secretly relieved and went for drinks followed by KFC with my work friends.

After playing it cool for two days I accepted Tall Guy’s Facebook friend request and stalked his Facebook. He is gorgeous! I got quite excited while looking through his photos, and he seemed like a nice guy, his main profile picture was a photo of him with his mother. I texted him with a generic message (with advice from my male work friend) but I forgot to put my name on the message. He didn’t reply. Why add me on Facebook then ignore my text? I don’t understand guys.

Friday – I was still having a very rubbish time at work and wanted the next seven days to go by really quickly – I would be on my way to Dubai in a week. I was due to go into central London after work to meet a guy from the dating website for a first date and had taken my dress with me to work to get changed into. I sat in the lunch room at work discussing the fact I really wasn’t in the mood to go on this date tonight but there was no way I was flaking again.

My gay friend at work is a dating pro so I took his advice and text this guy to make sure he was still meeting me as I hadn’t heard from him at all since Monday. His reply: “Really sorry but my grandpa passed away – so won’t be able to make it.” I felt bad….what is it about guys who I date/plan to date and their grandparents dying? Both of my work friends thought this was bullshit, I disagreed….why would someone tell such a dirty lie just to get out of a first date. No way. No one could sink that low, could they?

Despite invites to go out, I came home, ate Ben & Jerrys (caramel chew chew) and curled up on the sofa. My flat mates are away for the weekend so it was nice to have a quiet one, especially as I have the delight of working Saturday morning. I feel another solo museum trip coming on after work tomorrow… I can’t wait! Worryingly, I’m starting to enjoy my own company more and more… :-/

The one where I flake out

I hate flakiness and unreliability, so I did feel really bad when I cancelled on my date this evening. It was meant to be a first date with a guy I had come across on the dating website, but instead I spent the day vegging out on my couch watching movies back to back. The movies watched:

1. Bridesmaids – I expected this to be a light hearted comedy, instead it made me compare myself to the lead character (someone who is drawn to guys who are dickheads) and messed with my head a little bit.
2. Eat, Pray, Love – This is the second time I’ve seen it. Inspirational.
3. Down With Love – Cheeky & fun.

I felt I needed a day to just do nothing and sort my head out as I have had a relatively busy weekend. It began with a singles night on Friday, that I went to with four of my friends. This night involved a ‘Lock and Key ice-breaker (girls have padlocks and boys have keys and you go around fnding someone to unlock your padlock).

One of the girls had four of her padlocks unlocked and the others all found their keys…however I came home with my padlock still intact. The event was hosted by my flat mate’s new man (the host she met at the last speed dating event). She has now found herself in a quandry as she is becoming attached to this guy but is leaving the country in August.

There were a mix of guys and girls there. I approached two guys. The first one was cute with nice biceps, too bad he was rude and arrogant. I didn’t take the rejection very well, until I went to the ladies toilets and was given an empowering pep talk by some random drunk girls. The second guy was a player, I had seen him take other girls numbers but approached him anyway.

He asked me if I worked as a headhunter as I appeared very competitive, then he asked for my number. I gave it to him, knowing full well I wouldn’t hear from him. By the end of the night the place looked like a school disco. Almost all of the people left had coupled off and were making out in dark corners.When I started getting looks of sympathy I knew it was time to go home.

I felt a bit emotional that night. Not because I hadn’t met any one but because of the lovely things my friends had said to me and was eventually tipped over the edge when I got home and read the belated birthday card my friend had given me, where she wrote inside that she was so glad that I had eventually moved to London and that I had inspired and motivated her to change things. I was touched.

The next morning I was the only girl in my flat to wake up alone. My eyes looked froggy and I was hungover. As I sat eating my breakfast, I got more pity, this time from The Demon Flatmate, who, on finding that I hadn’t met anyone on the singles night told me: “Don’t worry, you’ll get a boyfriend eventually.”

I showered, dressed, piled on the make up and headed out. One of my friends had given me a pep talk about going out there and doing stuff – and this is exactly what I was going to do. It was sunny but very cold, I got on the tube and went to The Natural History Museuem, I was there for almost three hours and loved every minute.

After the museum I went for a coffee then walked through Hyde Park, through Green Park and towards Buckingham Palace. The entire day I was surounded by couples and young families but I was content. I needed this ‘me time’ and one thing was clear in my head…I certainly don’t need pity for being single.

I love my life, family and friends and I am not willing to be with someone who I am not happy with just for the sake of being in a relationship, nor am I ashamed of being one of the few people who doesn’t make out with random guys on a night out just because others choose to.

Yes, I’d rather be the unmarried one who messes things up like the lead character in Bridesmaids rather than the unhappy married ones. I’d love to do what Julia Roberts did in Eat, Pray, Love and go on journeys (mentally and physically). Down With Love? Hmmm….I’m not sure I’m completely ready to write love off already, I’ll give it another six months… ;

The Thrifty Guy – Date 2 (and the penguin)

Date one with The Thrifty Guy was back in September last year when I started my boyfriend finding mission. Unlike the others, I didn’t meet him through online dating. We have lots of mutual friends and will most likely see each other in the future so felt compelled to give him a second chance.

TG had been texting me on a regular basis since our first date and his grandmother had recently passed away, I felt bad for him. My friends mocked me about the fact this was a sympathy date and joked that he would probably take me to McDonalds for our second date, following the date one Wagamama bill-splitting debacle.

Thankfully they were wrong. TG took me to a mid range Thai restaurant in Covent Garden. The food was lovely and conversation flowed. It became clear to me that I wasn’t attracted to TG, he was too skinny and just not my type. I had to think of a way of ensuring that he doesn’t ask me out for date three without being too mean.

He mentioned that he hates extravagance and materialism. So I lied and told him I was going to spend £12,000 on a Hermes Birkin Bag and that I owned 200 pairs of shoes (I’m pretty sure I don’t have any more than 100). I hoped it would work. The bill arrived, it came to £34, we split it again. The next morning I got a text from TG asking me out on date 3.

A day later I had a mysterious package sent to my work address. I opened it and found a toy penguin. A few weeks back I had updated my Facebook status asking whether someone could buy me a pet penguin for my birthday…this is definitely what this cuddly penguin was relating to. I discovered it was sent by one of Thrifty Guy’s close friends.

I had met this guy through work and he had a reputation for being a sleaze and a creep. He had stalked me for a while a few months back and I had ignored all his emails and text messages and he had eventually got the message. Since then he had helped me out with a couple of work related issues so when he friend requested me on Facebook, I accepted.

When the penguin arrived I was so happy. My work colleagues and I named him Mumble after the penguin from Happy Feet. Now I’m not so sure about my feelings for the penguin, but I guess it’s not his fault that he’s been purchased by a creep.

Disney says….

There’s something about Ted….

 

Ted Mosby & Robin Scherbatsky - How I Met Your Mother (Photo credit: quicheisinsane)

A strange thing happened on Thursday night. My friend and I were chatting and she asked me who my ideal guy would be. Usually I’d reply to this with one (or several) of the following Ryan Reynolds, Ryan Gosling, Johnny Depp or Justin Timberlake. This time, however, I replied with “Ted from How I Met Your Mother”.

 

I’ve recently started watching old re-runs of How I Met Your Mother and have become strangely drawn to Ted, hes cute, funny and loveable. And he reminds me of a guy I used to know. He’s not a guy I’ve dated, just someone I have known for the past nine years. For the purposes of this post, I’ll refer to him as Ted.

 

I met Ted at a kids camp we were both volunteering at in 2003, he wasn’t typically good looking but had an immensely charming personality and very long eyelashes for a guy, the kids and the grown ups loved him. Although he appeared confident most of the time, he definitely had a shy streak. I liked how he always made an effort to talk to everyone.

 

In 2004 I went back to volunteer again and this is when I got to know Ted better. We would lark around and he would look out for me (I used to lack in self-confidence back then), this meant a lot to me. We were friends and I thought no more of it, after all at this point I was 23 and he was 19, a four year age gap at this stage was a big no-no for me. When I got back from camp I found I talked about him non-stop (danger signals) and thought about him a lot too (major danger signals).

 

Ted lived in London and I lived in a town in the West Country, he studied and eventually became a Maths teacher and I worked for a Bank. We led very different lives and I only saw him once or twice a year, if that. In 2007 I decided to volunteer for kids camp for the final time, the other volunteers were mostly in their late teens/early 20′s and I was now 26. This year Ted was in charge of running the camp.

 

At this point I discovered Ted was dating another one of the volunteers (an unfortunate looking one I had initially met four years back), she had a photo of him on her phone as a screen saver and spoke about him incessantly, I had a little pang of jealousy. But I befriended another guy who was absolutely hillarious and very flirty….right until I discovered he too had a girlfriend (this seems to be an emerging trend in the guys I have been drawn to in the past). Anyway, Ted and his girl were the same age and appeared well suited. Yet again we went back to our own lives, greeting each other with a warm hug when we rarely met (he broke off from the girl shortly after camp ended). 

 

Last summer I moved to London. I bumped into Ted within two weeks. He was shocked to find I had finally taken the plunge and moved to London, we swapped numbers again and he suggested we should meet up. We coincidentally met a week later when he dropped the bombshell “I can’t believe you’ve finally moved to London after all these years and I’m leaving the country”.

 

I was stunned. After we initially met I had excitedly rang my friend about how I was still a little bit in awe of Ted after all these years…he had grown up but was just as kind and loveable as when we had first met all those years ago, childishly, in my mind I began picturing him and I as a couple despite nine years of eratic contact and no real confirmation that he felt the same way. Ted told me he was leaving for India in the coming weeks where he was moving to teach maths for at least two years, if not longer. I wished him well.

 

We met a month later and I was surprised that he was still in England. I secretly hoped his plans had fallen through but no such luck. His Visa had merely been delayed and by October I had a private Facebook message from him telling me he was off, once again I wished him luck and told him to keep me posted on his adventures.

 

I’m not entirely sure how the topic of Ted has suddenly re-emerged in my head…apart from the initial disappointment, I haven’t pined over him. I have no idea of how he felt about me, and in a way I’m glad. At least this way I don’t have to deal with rejection or a dented ego and have the knowledge that if and when he returns from India our friendship will continue as it has done, without any awkwardness or drama. But a tiny part of me does wonder…What if?

The one where the birthday girl is (almost) the only singleton left

Life would be simpler if group nights out fell into two categories. Girls nights out, exclusively for the girls with the odd Gay Best Friend or straight platonic male friend thrown in for good measure. Or couples nights out where you can only attend if you have a boyfriend or husband otherwise you stay at home watching Saturday night TV and eating junk food.

Up until the last year or so, my close friends have pretty much been single. Suddenly my army of singletons is dwindling, although I’ve acquired a few more, others are becoming picked off one by one so girls nights out exclusively for girls are almost becoming a thing of the past.

On saturday night I held a small pre-night out gathering in my flat to celebrate my birthday (a week ahead of the actual event) and boys were invited. The night turned into a little bit of a couple-fest.

The single ones consisted of myself, my flat mate and my friend’s husband’s peculiar little male friend (very peculiar, almost menacing). At this point I shall say I have nothing against my friends’ partners, in fact they are all funny, lovely men who treat my friends like princesses.

What I did have an issue with, however, was the weird feeling I got with the couple-fest. I didn’t have a guy to buy me drinks, cling to me on the dance floor or hold my handbag for me (yes my friend’s boyfriend did this and I have photographic evidence to prove it). It was my birthday night out and I felt like the fat kid no-one picks to be in their team on school sports day.

I felt like Hugh Grant’s character in About A Boy and once again, I felt like Bridget Jones. This was a fleeting feeling however, don’t worry my dear blog followers, I didn’t spend the entire night wallowing in self-pity, quite the opposite, I had a whale of a time. I had a couple of drinks and danced the night away until my feet couldn’t take any more (with my single flat mate and coupled friend whose boyfriend was absent). I actually had a better time than I did for my birthday night out in Vegas last year.

So, in a nutshell… Would I go out partying with my friends and their partners again? Absolutely, but not alone. If this situation arises again I will ensure I have a ‘wing woman’ (fellow singleton) or a GBF with me to give me company when the coupley-ness occurs.

Would I invite my friends partners along to my birthday night out next year? Absolutely. We need them there to provide entertainment…. Who else would spill beer over his peculiar best friend and then make his wife use a hairdryer to dry his sleeve? Who else would hold his girlfriends purple croc handbag with pride?

However, a tiny part of me hopes by this time in 2013 I may also have a hot, chivalrous, fun guy of my own (just in time for my birthday). And if Prince Charming doesn’t materialise in time for my friend’s wedding in 2014 (I have this deadline to find a ‘plus one’), I may actually have to hire someone (sssshhhh…. no-one has to know, its our little secret).

The Police Guy – Date 2

The Police Guy was being very indecisive about where to go for date 2. He kept asking me what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go and what time, despite I had picked what day. I got irritated and told him to make a decision and keep me posted on where and what time we were meeting.

The day before the date I got a text message saying PG was taking me to The Oxo Tower for cocktails, as the views of London from the tower were amazing. I had heard of it and was very excited. On Friday I told all my friends and work colleagues and they were all very excited for me too.

I usually head out for dates straight from work but The Oxo Tower is posh and I felt like I had to make  a bit more effort than I usually do, plus from what I could remember, PG was relatively hot and a more promising proposition compared to the

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“interesting characters” I had encountered during my dating journey.

We were due to meet at 8pm and at 6.45 my phone went, it was PG. He messaged me saying his trains were cancelled (he lives on the outskirts of London) and whether we could meet locally instead. I was disappointed as I was looking forward to The Oxo Tower, but I guess it saved me travelling back into Central London so didn’t think much of it.

PG had already arrived at the local bar we agreed to meet at and was stood at the bar. He was shorter and looked older than I remember. We spent the whole night stood at the bar, I was so glad I was wearing my flat shoes. PG was very serious, he didn’t make me laugh and we didn’t have anything in common. He wasn’t flirty, charming or confident… three traits I really like in a guy.

Unlike my other dates, this one had lots of awkward silences… something that is very unusual for me. I’m normally a very chatty person, but on this date I struggled to come up with anything to say. I told him about the small party I was having the next day for my birthday (a week ahead of the actual day) for my close friends then ran out of things to say. PG must have picked up on me looking bored, when he suggested calling it a night.

He offered to walk me home but I declined and while on my way home I got a text message from him: “Happy birthday for when it arrives. Hope you get home safely”. I had a feeling he’d picked up on our lack of spark and thought I wouldn’t hear from him again.

I was wrong. PG messaged me today asking me how my party went, when I didn’t reply within an hour, he sent me the same message again then asked me whether I fancied giving him a massage. I didn’t reply.

The one where I go speed dating for the 2nd time

My friend C is getting married in 2014. She rang me to tell me I had an invite to the daytime do and evening reception. She was giving me plenty of time to find a “plus one”. C met her partner last June. It was the night I had returned from Ibiza, I almost cancelled but didn’t as I rarely flake out of things I’ve agreed to do and secondly we needed a catch up. I was moving to London in less than a month and this was going to be huge as C and I had been inseparable for the past two years, enjoying girly nights out and being there for each other when the toe rag guys we dated made us cry.

We decided to go to a different bar to the one we usually went to. While I was quite happy acting like I’m 21 when I’m 30, C wanted to settle down. The guys she had dated over the passed two years consisted of 1) A guy who was really bad in bed 2) An older married guy 3) A guy with a girlfriend and two young children. This wasn’t looking great.

I loved the role I played in getting C and her partner together. He was the DJ at the bar we were at and I used the simple, yet effective method of approaching the DJ with the line “My mate fancies you, can she have your number?” He agreed and they went on their first date the following night and moved in together four months later with her four year old son and his 14-year-old daughter. Surely I’m due some good karma for playing cupid??

With the deadline of 2014 in mind, I arrived at speed dating on Friday night. First impressions seemed promising, there wasn’t a single red satin shirt in sight and no one had a full head of grey hair, unlike last time. We had already finished a bottle of prosecco between three of us before we began and we had now started on the champagne. There were a mix of guys, some I ticked “no” to and the rest I ticked “friends”. There was no one I would classify as even mildly attractive. My flat mate disagreed

She thought the host was hot. Not her usual type (usually “bookish” / geek chic), this guy was a confident cheeky chappy. I thought I’d attempt to play cupid again, although not in such a blatant manner as last time. Two guys had failed to show up and four girls had walked out so during the speed dating there were times were one person would be sat on their own. During one of these moments the host guy came and sat with my flat mate, who was right next to me. I leant over and asked him whether he was single, he said he was. Happy days.

The event finished and we went upstairs to the bar, the host guy and a couple of other guys came and sat with us. I was conscious of the fact I had to work Saturday morning and be up at 7am so when it got to 11.30 I decided to head home. I felt bad about abandoning the girls and resentful of being the first to leave but knew I’d be paying the price the next day if I didn’t.

I fell asleep and was woken by a male voice in my flat at 4.30am. Male voices are a rarity in my flat (Apart from The Demon Flatmate’s boyfriend, and he too, is a man of very few words). I thought no more of it and went back to sleep. I woke on Saturday morning and headed to the living area, where I spotted a vaguely familiar men’s leather jacket and laptop on my couch. I quietly chuckled to myself. I back after work at 3pm and the jacket and laptop were still there. I discovered my flat mate had only been out of her room once to make cups of tea, but other than that no one had heard or seen her.

As our lives are relatively boring, the other girls and I sat on the couch giggling and speculating about what was going on upstairs although we all had a pretty good idea. What made the whole situation even funnier is the fact it was it was my flat mate who was involved in this naughtiness. She can be a party girl at times but is generally moral and a good girl most of the time, we tend to have similar views on relationships apart from the fact I can be quite forward at times (my catchphrase in life over the last few months has been “Get Involved!”), maybe some of this was rubbing off on her.

I didn’t see my flat mate until the next day. She told me about the emotional connection she had with this guy that had led her to spend almost 18 hours with him in the confines of her room. Despite all our speculation of the sordid events we thought had been occurring upstairs we had been quite far from the truth. They basically lay in bed kissing, cuddling and chatting about anything and everything. I could tell she was getting attached to this guy, I couldn’t blame her…it was quite an intense situation.

She told me he was due to come back later that night but had cancelled as he was tired and had ended that text with “see you soon”, she told me she had a gut feeling she wouldn’t hear from him again. She was right.

This scenario reminded me why I tend to be emotionally closed off from guys I date – A fear of being rejected by someone you become attached to. This means I often date guys who like me more than I like them, and even when I date guys I really like, so the ball is always in my court. I keep my cards close to my chest and avoid using the “L” word on all accounts. The Manipulative Sociopath I was involved with before my move to London told me he was in love with me on our second date (We had known each other for a year before we had dated). Although I was completely besotted with him I still acted aloof at times which meant he probably never knew how much he hurt me.

On a more positive note, I did eventually hear back from The Police Guy (sorry guys & girls… he’s actually a plain clothed policeman, disappointing, I know) and I’m seeing him again on Friday. I’m also in the process of arranging a date with a doctor. All I need now is a fireman then I’ll be working my way through all the professions…

The Police Guy

 

I’m not a huge fan of daytime dates for two reasons. Lack of alcohol (dutch courage) and based on the time when I met The Starbucks Guy and my date got sabotaged by my work colleagues who continuously called me despite the fact I had only left the building for 35 minutes.

This time I played things differently – I let my work mobile at work and switched my personal mobile off. I had only seen one photo of The Police Guy (a head shot) so was taking a gamble when I went to meet him. Not a huge gamble, mind. It only involved me walking less than five minutes from my work place and having my skinny latte bought for me.

I was pleasantly surprised. I was attracted to him and I was totally sober, this is good news! He looked a bit like an Action Man doll and had lovely grey/blue eyes. He works as an undercover detective for the Met Police and appeared very ambitious and driven. One thing he said irritated me though… “You look much, much better than your profile photos”.

This got me paranoid. I don’t think I’m particularly photogenic, but the photos I have on the dating websites are the best of a bad bunch, mostly from nights out where I have make-up, eyelashes, hair done etc. My friends have told me to take this comment as a compliment, so I’m trying to.

We talked about dating. He told me I was the first person he had met from the website as he’d recently joined. We spoke about weird people and I told him I found guys who were needy and stalkerish a total turn-off, he agreed.

Anyway, the date went well. PG said he wanted to see me again and sent me a very cute text straight after the date: “Really nice to meet you. You are officially lovely and please note I won’t stalk you.” I felt warm and fuzzy and had a Bridget Jones moment, like when Mark Darcy told her “I like you, just as you are.”

It had been a couple of days and I hadn’t heard from PG so I text him. No reply. 

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