Tuesday, 15 September 2015

Realisation of the condemned

What do you do when you realise your future is set? Perhaps there is no changing the inevitable. Not to turn this into Terminator Three (unfortunately that film did happen), but regardless of what you change, perhaps the outcome is unavoidable. 

I've come to the realisation that just maybe I'm not meant to find someone; leave aside the search for 'the one'. 

My last meaningful date was a little less than a year ago. It went well, or so you delude yourself into thinking through applying various emotional filters. And aside from personal bias, it did feel like it was a positive experience. But it died pretty quickly as my date prevaricated and concocted excuses to put off another date. 


There was only a year or two between us, but she seemed deeply shocked she was dating a younger man. Which, at our age, me nearing 30, her already there, seemed humorous. Sure when you're younger those years seem so much more vast, but after rushing through young adulthood, picking up responsibilities and dropping irresponsibilities, is a year or two such a mental block?

That was the last meaningful date. Since then it's not been as positive. I look back at my last year and wonder just what more I could do. Sure I could ask more women out, maybe even go to those manufactured networking evenings, but what if it doesn't matter. What if no matter what you do there is no positive ending. 

I've asked friends and family just what is wrong with me. I'm told I have a sense of humour, I'm polite and can be pretty good company. My peers say I wouldn't be a bad catch, but I have yet to be held.  

I  live my future single life every day; wandering around Waitrose at 8.30pm, shopping for dinner parties I never have anyone to invite to. And no, you never meet anyone datable at Waitrose. I did once see a woman my age picking up a microwave meal for one. I tilted my head and sighed at her complete lack of desire to cook something. Anything. Microwave meals are the final indication you have no hope. At least I enjoy cooking.

My sister has been going to post-30 singles events with other Indian girls depressed they can't find anybody to take them. Because it's still the 50s for these people. Tales of doctors, lawyers and other Indian professions float around London as romantic wreckage. 

This year is fast approaching its end, and happiness of one kind or another seems further away. I've changed my job, tried to be more positive and want to be out there just that little bit more. Maybe I'll bump into some of that wreckage. 

Monday, 26 May 2014

Not feeling it


You meet a girl. You go on a date. It went, you think, pretty well. And then she says she didn't feel a thing. At best it's confusing, at worst you start to question your sanity. 

The above happened to me, in what was my first great date in a long time. To be fair I was shooting high. She is a doctor, I'm a professional liar (read: journalist. I'm not really a liar. Was that a lie?). She played along though. She brought some game. I brought a huge amount of game. More game than I realised I had. And still... Nothing.


It's still pretty confusing. We didn't have an awkward moment. We laughed all night. I censored myself from swearing once; You don't know how hard that is for me. She was pretty, I was presentable. She didn't feel the chemistry, which is odd considering we had an encyclopaedic amount to talk about. 

I wouldn't necessarily have cared had I felt the same way. I'm not a guy who tends to feel that spark instantly. For me, it takes a couple of dates before I know exactly how I feel. Maybe I'm the exception, although I think I am the rule. I think it's a bit Disney to expect that spark. Sure it can happen, but that must be a one in a million shot. And I don't want to be hitting a million different dates. 

Being told you need to feel an instant spark is reducing people's patience in the whole dating institution. And exactly how long does that spark last? Is the fuse lit with vodka? 

When a girl says she doesn't 'feel any chemistry' it has to be down to looks, which is no bad thing. I won't deny that should I not have found her physically appealing I might have pulled the ripcord. And so I do not begrudge her that. It still doesn't stop me from befuddling myself over the night. 

There were some positive lessons out of the whole night. Another, positive, date under the belt is only a good thing. You have to be like a boxer. This is all training for the big fight. These dates are just the sparring partners. Some are complete amateurs who will shit the bed at the sign of your first jab. Others will end up being better than you, a future prospect for a prize far higher than you can offer. I'm jabbing, I'm swinging, and I'm keeping my footwork nimble. 

The other positive lesson was that I now know I can drink a quarter bottle of rum before a date without it impairing my performance. I probably will not repeat that though. It's very bad form of me to have done that, and I do not excuse myself. No one wants to go out with a drunk, even if they had sobered up sufficiently enough to knock back a few more cocktails during the date. 

Nailing down the next date is proving a kicker. I'm hoping to line up one after the other but it's just not happening. To keep up the momentum you need a better strike rate of one a month. Even if they are batshit crazy, you need to practice that one-two combination. 

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

Dating a clown

What do you want in a person? How much have you thought about it? 
Perhaps they need to be cute. Maybe they should be able recite the entire back catalogue of Fleetwood Mac. Whatever it is, do you want your date to entertain you?


That is the sense I'm getting from everyone who uses online dating. Almost every single profile I've read has made a very specific demand, to make them laugh. You have to be funny. Now, to me, that's a pretty tall specific order. 


Just thinking about the comedy scene there are umpteen genres of live comedy. From observational to racist, and everything in-between. Without getting to know someone, how do you know they will make you laugh, or indeed you will make them laugh? 

What if you're more Frasier funny, and your date was expecting King of Queens funny? There's no coming back from a corked merlot joke.

We all think we're funny in our own way, but even I know I'm not everyone's cup of tea. No everyone wants to make abortion jokes to your newly pregnant friend. 

It's OK. She found them funny, I think. We're still talking on a semi-regular basis. 

A more important point to all this is just how self-absorbed do you have to be to demand entertainment? A date is a two-way thing. You need to bounce off each other, entertain each other. Otherwise go to a stand-up show by yourself. That's what I do. It's a sad lonely existence, but for an hour every night I can laugh.

I don't make any demands. I don't expect anything from you. Maybe I should demand things. Maybe it's time to bring out the list of expectations. Is that where I'm going wrong? 

Friday, 9 May 2014

A man's man?



'I like to be treated like a princess! Like a man who knows how to be a man...'

During my, now slightly longer than previous, time on online dating platforms I've come across a number of unbelievable statements. 

The above quote is a prime example. When someone would like to be treated like a 'princess' is that in the Diana way, or the Princess Barbie way? In either case, they'll be covered in cum, and end up being shovelled out of the crumpled wreckage of regret. 

Monday, 28 April 2014

It's you. Not me


What do you do what you start to believe you're nobodies idea of attractive. I've started to come to that realisation since joining the world of online dating.
I was always under the (false) impression that when I turned it on, I had game. Thinking you have game is different to thinking you're a stud.

Never have I thought of myself as 'attractive'. Indeed I figured I was average. One girlfriend, unkindly, said to me "You're not the sort of guy a girl would look at twice." 

Tuesday, 8 April 2014

A sickness


I pretty much despise what I've become. This year wasn't suppose to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be this hard. 

You put some serious effort into dating, you go out with a couple of people a month, you see what happens. So why is it that my dating life is pretty much the same as when I didn't give a shit? 

I spend my nights, when I'm at home, constantly refreshing the dating sites I've signed up to. 

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Competition


How do you stand out from the crowd?

I remember watching an abhorrent TV show called The Pick-up Artist. Yes, it's as disgusting as it sounds.

The 'lead' 'artist' (read: prick) talked about doing something called 'peacocking'. This does not mean covering your groin in colourful feathers, prancing around bars, hoping, just hoping, for one girl to like your feathers.

No. Peacocking is when a man - usually a man - does something to stand out, to show he's the lad you ladies want let violate you.