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LovelessinLondon

Confessions of a City Singleton

10 Reasons to Love Being Single at Christmas

It can be a lonely time of year, so here are some of the perks of singledom to remind you why it isn’t all that bad!

1. Star fishing in bed! Рthis has to be the best one. Absolutely blissful sleep, without a snoring drunk lump next to you who has had 1 too many beers at their Christmas party! 

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2. You can focus on yourself, your career, your friends, your family..you you you, which leads to point 3…

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3. It’s ok to be a bit selfish – indulge yourself, treat yourself to presents, I like to spend what I would spend on a man on myself…hello designer boots ūüėć.¬†Plus…no¬†stress¬†over the perfect gift for your other half, too much pressure!

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4.You can hang out with your friends more – last minute plans are much easier when there’s only yourself to worry about. Go to all the Christmas parties, no FOMO ūüíÉūüŹĽ.

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5. No need to look good at all times! – scrape your greasy hair up, put your gorilla legs up and chill the fuck out.

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6. No crazy in-law’s to have to be polite with.

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7. No petty arguments like having to put up with football (or any other sport) – you can forget about the battle of whether we watch Made in Chelsea over Chelsea FC.

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8. You can flirt until your heart’s content – everyone loves a bit of a festive flirt, it’s 100% guilt free. Grab the mistletoe.

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9. No overthinking things – as a girl I’m a big over thinker so it’s great to have the head space and not analyse whether that 1 “X” at the end of a message is a sign that he’s moving too quick or if that lack of immediate response means they’re not into you or maybe he is playing it cool, treat em mean keep it mean style?!?!¬†

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10. And finally you can be 100% your real self – quirks and all, when you meet someone new sometimes you have to tone down the kookie stuff for a while to avoid scaring them! Yes…I faint purely from having my pulse taken. No…I can’t sleep with my feet tucked in. Yes…I tell lots of long boring stories. No…I can’t keep secrets ūüôä.¬†

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Merry Christmas all!

Sophie x

 

Speed Dating 

Well I’ve been talking about it for a while and 2 weeks ago I finally did it…speed dating. For those of you unfamiliar with concept this is where you pay money to get a pool of 15 men (in this case) who you get to date for 4 minutes before you’re saved by the bell and they have to move on to the next hopeful girl.

The evening didn’t start off too well when my friend and I arrived at the wrong venue! Apparently there are 2 bars named the same in South Kensington. The gormless barman looked at us with pity as he saw it dawn on us that either we were in the wrong place or there was no one else there to date. A stressful ¬£10 black cab for a 5 minute journey later and we ran in to the right venue rather flustered. As most of you know, a drink is an essential part of my dating repetoire so we head to the bar for 2 G&T’s….21 effing pounds!!!! I know I’m in Kensington but I didn’t realise you need a mortgage to buy a drink.

Scanning the room and my pessimism for the evening started to fade slightly as they weren’t all Shrek lookalikes. So we head to pick up our name badges, as if you’re at some awkward work conference, and I get number 13…great start. We find our tables and take a seat, let the fun begin…

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Within 1 minute of No. 1 taking a seat the candle on my table went out, pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the evening. No likey, no lighty as Paddy would say. So on to the dates:

No. 1 was going for the long greased curly hair look and was from Skegness…I don’t think I need to continue this description

No. 2 was an experienced speed dater! (Yes, that’s a thing). He decided to skip small talk..fair play..and ask me 2 “important” questions. 1. When was the last time I was happy?! (Um…an hour ago before I got here) 2. When was I last sad? (When you sat down!). The worst part was that I stupidly then threw the questions back to him and he told me his friend died a few days ago ūüė≥. How to kill a 4 minute conversation immediately, thank god for the bell ring (my favourite sound of the evening).

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No. 3, I can’t actually remember much of, but I have written “travelling” in my score card (is it called a score card? It looks like a crazy golf score card so that’s what I’m going for). From what I can remember we had a very generic conversation about how much he’s travelled.

No. 4 was the first quite good looking chap. He was Irish and had good chat. He was part of a group of 4 “lads” that had decided last minute that speed dating was a hilariously fun way to celebrate one of their birthdays. The bants was strongly flowing and they were certainly not taking this seriously.

No. 5 the 2nd of the “lads” told me that everything no. 4 had told me was actually made up! He spent most of the time laughing at no. 6 and telling me how dull all the girls so far had been. I leant to the girl on my left and said “these lot, eh?!” Only to receive a death stare for daring to encroach on her 4 minutes..haha. No. 5 was quite good looking and wearing some Shoreditch glasses. It was his birthday night out and he was clearly a party animal. I asked him to throw me his best speed dating question to which I got “what are you passionate about?”, this one stumped me and has had me thinking for 2 weeks…I still have no answers, suggestions are welcome!

No. 6 then followed the theme and informed me that everything no. 5 told me wasn’t true and the glasses aren’t even real. #classicbants

No. 7 was the one who caught my eye when we walked in. He was a tall, Olly Murs cheeky chappy. He ditched the stall and decided to get cosier on the bench seat next to me. Again, we had a laugh about his 3 mates and he wrote his own comment on my scorecard “best one” which probably wasn’t far off. We also decided later that he was a bit strange and very hyperactive.

Then we get a break…thank god, I’m gasping! They’re not silly, they know they can charge the world for a gin and tonic because everyone’s desperate (not just for a drink!).

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No. 8 was not very memorable other than he talked about how much he like gardening, I thought the age bracket here was 25-35, maybe he’s going for the wrong crowd.

No. 9 was the Shrek lookalike, I have even written “monster” on the scorecard. He was obviously pumped full of steroids to the point where he looked like Will Smith in the film Hitch when he has an allergic reaction.

No. 10 was what my housemate would call a freshie. He moved to London from India 3 weeks ago and the accent was still quite thick. Very few accents do it for me, I can confirm Indian is not one.

No. 11 had a peanut head, almost comical. He was wearing a tweed jacket about 3 sizes too big for him, the sort your mum buys you at school to grow in to! He was off to the delightful nightclub, Infernos, in Clapham afterwards which I think would have been a shock to his system.

No. 12 was actually a really interesting 4 minutes, he worked for Google in their AI department which is fascinating stuff but as you can imagine, extreme levels of geekiness.

I can’t really remember no. 13, the “so what do you do?” conversations all blur in to one really. I’ve written scared of heights on my score card, as we were in a dingy basement, I’m not quite sure how that was relevant to discuss.

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No. 14 was a Polish doctor who had an unfortunate bout of acne. Another generic conversation counting the seconds for the bell.

No. 15, the final date and all hope lost…sorry guys, fairy tales aren’t real, he wasn’t my knight in shining armour. He was a 5ft4 Indian vet who likes cats.

So all in all 75% weird/boring and 25% party animal lads. No luck this time but a funny evening and I wouldn’t totally rule out doing it again.

The evening ended with a lot of drinking with the party animals at an extortionate ski themed club, possibly a cheeky smooch with the birthday boy and a horrific hangover on Saturday morning, I am too old for this!

Sophie x

The Slobberer, Sweaty Betty and The Snapchatter

So here it is, the instalment to bring us nearly up to date! I’m not writing about anyone too recent for numerous reasons. I wonder what number will end up as my magic number?!

The Leprechaun

On to No. 29, he was an Irish charmer and needless to say could drink like a fish (do fish even drink?!). He had pretty good conversation and only talked about potatoes once! A week or so later I was in the pub with my housemates and…Jesus, Mary and Joseph..feck me, there he was in the corner, wearing the most hideous brown stripey suit on his own with his headphones in (a bit strange but at least not on another date!). I sat down quickly with my back to him and gestured to my housemates “that’s him! The guy behind me”, one of them totally misunderstood me and replied “nooo that guy really isn’t fit” haha. Luckily he didn’t spot me and the brown suit was unfortunately a deal breaker.

The Slobberer 

Anyone who has known me well over the last 3 years knows that I like a little Dutch courage before I go on a 1st date. Usually an unsuspecting colleague will be dragged for a swifty beforehand however, on this particular day no one could come with me and I didn’t fancy the pub alone…so I had the bright idea that I’d pinch a can of G&T ¬†from the work fridge and neck it on my way. So, I leave work and I’m tottering along in my heels, looking very overdressed for a Tuesday night, sipping a can of G&T…oozing class. I suddenly realised how chavvy this must have looked so it’d be better to sit down in the park and finish it quickly and quietly. Shit me, round the corner walks my bosses best friend who works in the same office, great…now alcoholic rumours are going to start! No. 30 was a nice guy, he took me to a trendy wine bar and was clearly trying quite hard. He was a couple of years younger than me and hadn’t yet mastered the art of conversation so we reached the “so are you going away this year?” killer pretty early on. I made an excuse to leave as soon as possible without being rude and he insisted on walking me to the tube (nice manners at least). The whole walk there I could tell by his body language he wanted to kiss me, always a horrible feeling when you know you’re not keen. Now the decision at the point is a tricky one, would you rather have the awkwardness of pulling away and rejecting or the awkwardness of an unwanted kiss. I usually opt for option 2, I really wish I hadn’t on this occasion. I’ve kissed a few frogs over the years and let me tell you, this was probably the worst kiss of my life, I actually had to wipe my mouth after…eugh!! So so gross.

Sweaty Betty

No. 31 is one of my favourite stories and I found it hilarious even at the time. I arrived early and was strangely nervous for this date, so I necked a quick glass of wine before he arrived…standard. I felt the pub was quite warm but I put it down to nerves and maybe the speed of that Merlot going to my head. No. 31 walked through the door and I had the rare bonus that he was actually much more handsome than his photos…drop dead in fact! He went to the bar and got us a bottle (good sign, my kind of man) and I soon relaxed. We had loads in common and conversation was easy. After 10 minutes I noticed he was looking quite warm, well… he was wearing a jumper in quite a warm pub. I suggested we tried to find a seat outside which he jumped to…however, no such luck. He said not to worry he would just take his jumper off (revealing an interesting choice of flowery shirt). This didn’t seem to help and he appeared to be getting sweatier by the second, to the point where his hair was wet and he had to keep using his jumper as a towel!! So awkward for him that I had to just laugh and say “it is pretty hot in here”, I think the more he was conscious about it the worse he got. Drops were running down his face!! He tried to blame the fact he cycled home from work….3 hours ago! Funnily enough I was still really keen to see him again but not that surprisingly he wasn’t as keen…probably embarrassed, would have been a good one for the grandkids! I was going to suggest Ice Bar for our 2nd date.

The Competitive One

Full marks for the date idea go to No.32, however very few marks for the execution. He picked a UV mini golf place, sounds great fun, however UV usually requires darkness, this was 3pm on a Sunday. We arrived to what was a dingey British legion club in Dalston, full of only regulars, to discover the mini golf didn’t open for an hour….forced conversation and 3 gins necked, it was eventually time to play. Now I’m not going to claim to be a pro but I do know how to hold a golf club properly and seemed to be having a lucky day (well..as far as the golf was concerned). He, on the other hand, was not…several double figure scores and his mood started to change, I honestly felt like I was with a 6 year old who was about to stamp his feet and cry! Not really an attractive trait. We both made our excuses and made a run for it. I went to drown my sorrows with some friends and wanting to be polite I text him at midnight on a Sunday night saying “thankss golf”..oops.

The BAFTAs

No. 33 was another Brummy…uhoh, so I was a bit worried about the accent, we’d chatted for a while though so it seemed silly not to meet up. Luckily the accent was only a small twang. He hadn’t got a plan when we met at Waterloo station so we headed to southbank on a sunny afternoon…sounds romantic maybe, but everywhere was so packed it took nearly an hour to get a drink! After said drink, we were walking past the Southbank Centre and we noticed a crowd and a red carpet…it was the BAFTAs, No. 33 squealed “omg that’s the back of Justin Timberlake’s head” I still have a big 12 year old girl crush on JT but I could not tell you what the back of his head looked like!! Other than that we saw a few D-list celebs and the rest of the date was rather uneventful. We didn’t meet up again.

The Architect

Very occasionally I go through a moment of madness where I decide to go on a health kick…any of my friends reading this will know it’s usually short-lived and I give them full permission to slap me and force a Sauvignon down my neck next time! However no.34 fell foul of one of these rare blips in my life and I decided to have a 2 drink rule (obviously you can’t do T-total on a first date!). Needless to say the date turned out to be as boring as my decision to limit my alcohol…never again. He was an architect and even told me that “it’s in all architects nature to be very arrogant”…wow thanks for the warning, see ya!

The Baggage

No. 35 was a risky one, I’m not sure why I even considered it an option. He had recently come out of an 11 year relationship…university sweetheart. Initially he said they had been separated for a year, yes…he was even still married! Anyway, what do I have to lose?! Maybe he hasn’t yet been corrupted by the modern dating hell. He was unsurprisingly extremely nervous, first date in 11 years, I think I’d be hyperventilating! Luckily for him I’m quite well practiced at first date chat and several wines later it was obvious we clicked. He was very open and honest which I can’t fault him on, he explained the whole history of the ex…probably a bit too much for a 1st date! The story of the break-up was rather elaborate and part of me does call bullshit, possibly he thought I would be attracted to the slightly damaged thing. He then dropped the bombshell that they’d been to The Bahamas 3 weeks before for 1 last try….woah woah woah…that slightly changes things! The fucking Bahamas, are you kidding?! Of course he was adamant that it was the closure he had needed and he was more than ready to move on. We did get on really well though and texted non-stop for a week after the date, he definitely had a few things to learn in the playing it cool game. Low and behold…things weren’t all smooth sailing, the night before our second date I sensed a change of tone (I’ve also got quite good at that) and I get a message to say he’s just seen her….and she wants him back, typical female, we don’t want anyone else having the man even if we don’t want them. Now I mean, I have this 1st date thing down to a tee but 11 years trumps 1 date obviously. Lucky escape that it happened so early and as Sod’s law has it, I then got a message a month later…shock horror, it had been a mistake (the wife did sound like a total crazy) and he wanted to know if it was too late to take me out. Sorry pal…you snooze you lose!

The Snapchatter

So we reach No. 36, this was a slow burner, we chatted for months on and off before deciding to go for a drink. I think I’d already assumed I wasn’t keen before we arrived so he was fighting a bit of a losing battle. We spent the whole evening talking about work as there didn’t seem to be much else to chat about, he was in to gaming…unless we’re talking PS2 crash bandicoot then it’s not my thing! He also liked snapchat…a lot!! I’d get daily selfies, him at work, him on a train, him on the sofa cuddling a pillow, him in the kitchen, him lying on his bed (cheeky bum shot but no dick pics this time thankfully), him watching tv, him after the gym and my personal fav….the shot of just his chin!!!…I didn’t ask but one can only assume that was to showcase that he can grow designer stubble?! That was the final straw that snapped the camels back, he is not the man for me!

So there we have it, the search is still well and truly underway. There will be a little while until the next update as I need to get out there and collect some more stories! Wish me luck.

Sophie x

The Audi, The Arsehole and The Actor

Another instalment of dates to make you giggle. As always they were eventful!

The Gay

First of all No. 21 looked about 12 years old! He’d just moved to London and was a bit of a party animal, not particularly my style. Several conversations about shoes and checking himself out in the mirror behind me my gaydar started bleeping…however, I chose to ignore it and enjoy my evening anyway. We went to a club in Soho (yes, the gay capital of London!) and chatted about this, that and everything. Half way through, a girl who could barely stand up, wearing a top as a dress (God I sound old!) and her greasy looking boyfriend decided to plonk themselves on our table. They were considerably more drunk than us and the girl leaned over and slurred “oh em geee are you two on a first date?!!!”…it’s tricky to know how to answer that one, unfortunately we were honest which lead to a lot of awkward squealing and forced questions. A funny evening in the end but it was quite clear he was more suited to a Steve than a Sophie.

The Audi

Ah No. 22, Mr Flashy Psychiatrist, picked me up in his Audi R8 (apparently that’s a pretty nice car?..), good start you may think. The date on the other hand consisted of sitting on a park bench in the sun for an hour listening to how high powered and important he thought he was followed by him deciding he suddenly had dinner with his parents to go to…I was secretly relieved, I think he was almost as crazy as some of his patients!

The Bore

I don’t like to stereotype but imagine an accountant…you’ve pictured No. 23. We arrived at the same time and found a table at London Cocktail Club, as you may have gathered by now, alcohol is essential to a 1st date, it was a full on awkward 20 minutes until he finally went to the bar! The conversation was even slower than the booze. Needless to say once the drinks did start to flow the wine goggles struck again and I agreed to a 2nd date. The 2nd date we went for dinner (in hindsight it was too soon to commit to a good couple of hours together!), again it was extremely dry and this time obviously mutual. Before we even met he told me he picked the place because it was 2-4-1 (don’t admit that, such a bean counter!). It came to the dreaded moment of all early dates, the bill. I offered to pay my way and he didn’t try to argue (fair enough, us girls want equality and all), we both put out cards down but when the waiter came he put the full amount on his card…I like to think intentionally! No. 23 was clearly pissed off and trying to hide it, I got us a drink out of guilt and then we went our separate ways.

The Arsehole

This is a tricky one to make funny but I guess I can definitely see the entertaining side now. I’ll start with the first date…we met in a nice pub in Notting Hill, he was wearing a tweed jacket and actually looked about 10 years older than he was but he was very charming and we had a great night. I had far too much wine and the following day got awful flashbacks in the office like the fact I bit his ear!!! No, not in a sexy way, cringe cringe cringe. I was busy feeling like I needed to crawl under a stone and never date again, convinced I’d been too crazy for him to want to see again when the buzzer at work went…”Hi, I’ve got a delivery for Sophie”, my heart skipped several beats as the biggest bunch of flowers arrived to my office. I had mixed reactions to the very bold move…creepy or romantic?…at the time I thought romantic, now I reckon creepy is more accurate. No. 24 and I dated for a few months, very early on alarm bells started ringing, he only had girls as friends (a sign of gay or a man whore) and some of his stories didn’t quite add up. I have been with some pricks in the past and instinct told me No.24 was not to be trusted. One morning he went to work early and I decided to have a little nose…bad,I know, but we’ve all been there, curiosity kills the cat (or maybe the kittens in this case!) …and I came across a “sex drawer”..now this may not seem too strange but seeing as he’d only moved there since I’d been seeing him it was a bit weird to me. I couldn’t ignore it so I text him, his response was that they were his ex’s…pretty fucking weird right? Is that kind of souvenir normal?! Speculation with my friends was that they were actually his but he was embarrassed, I’m not sure which I found more concerning. Anyway, a few weeks later I went over and he was changing his sheets (coming to think of it ,he was doing that a lot…) and there was a stain on them…a girl stain, he tried to convince me that it was me but the tampon wrapper in the bathroom bin (not mine) was a bit of a give away…grim. I’d gone to spend NYE with him, as soon as I arrived he sent me back out in torrential rain to top up the electric metre (or probably hide more evidence), I was too shocked too argue. He then didn’t want to have a drink so we sat like a 70 year old couple watching Jools Holland. Happy bloody New Year! Lucky escape and quite chuffed my instincts are strong. #newyearnewme, time to move on.

Das German

As always, online dating is all about resilience! No. 25 was a Bit of a rebound from No. 24. A very impromptu date in St Albans which felt more like a German history lecture! I learnt quite a bit about Nazis and other German politics which was fascinating but not date material! He was also quite short which we already discovered is a bit of a no-go. My year 7 German was not up to scrathc and spelling my name didn’t seem to impress him. This was simply not my Herr Richtig.

The Rugby Player

To start off I suggested meeting at a pub, he arrived 1st to find it was boarded up and I think he assumed I’d played some nasty trick! No. 26 was a Welsh rugby player with a shaved head…I haven’t mentioned this yet but I was definitely going though a phase of being attracted to men with a lack of hair, I guess that bodes well as I get older! We went to Nordic bar and got suitably merry and the wine goggles came out in force… I see a pattern emerging here. The 2nd time we met he was definitely not as funny or “dreamy” as I’d remembered and he kept bringing up things that were nothing to do with me…he was mixing me up with other girls! Once or twice I can forgive but all evening mixed with all of the same questions he had asked on the 1st date just went to show rugby isn’t the only game No. 26 played. Run away run away!

The Jewish One

This one was a really fun date, we went to Caminos (yes, I went there on a date before, I’m not very original!). We had a laugh and good conversation, even some food which is always a bonus. Some people say they can’t eat much on dates, I have never suffered from that issue, the only challenge I find is to not finish mine before they even start! He was Jewish, coincidently I had scoffed some bacon with every meal that day…I’m not sure his mother would approve! I have been on 1st dates with couple of Jewish men, they tend to assume I am Jewish from my photos…thanks mum for the nose!  There was a distinct lack of chemistry and not a huge amount in common so No. 27 and I didn’t make it to date 2.

The Actor

No. 28 was a very flamboyant character who I’d actually love to have as a friend but that’s not allowed in this modern dating game…you hook up or you never speak again, no friendships. We went to Honest burger (I told you I can eat on a date) as we’d had a text debate over London’s best burger haunts, seemed a great idea until I’m dripping in burger grease while trying to look lady-like, no wonder it was a non-starter! He was a part-time actor with bright ginger hair…(lucky escape for the future kids!) and I have no idea if he was playing himself that night or a character. I think the feeling was very mutual that we weren’t picturing each other naked so we did not pursue it any further. He did very kindly send me a list of loads of suggestions for my trip to NYC though, nice to see there are still some good kind people around!

I’ll leave it there for now as I’m starting to get closer to the current day! For anyone wondering…yes, these stories are all true. Still more frogs to kiss to find my prince.

Sophie x

The Puker, The Perv and The Pig

So it continues, here are the next 10 date stories!

The Welsh One

No. 11 was another Tinder find. He had a cute Welsh accent and seemed charming. We went to a little Spanish pub near Tottenham Court Road which had a good chilled atmosphere. Everything went well until we hit this Tinderella’s curfue, he asked if he could come back and when I said no he turned in to the sulkiest teenager I have ever seen, oh great, that’s all he wanted…wasted evening!

The Puker

Our first date didn’t get off to the best start, I was running late so decided to jump in an Uber as I was only heading to Maida Vale. 20 minutes drive later I realised I was pretty much in Central…oh wait…there is more than one The Elgin in London, schoolboy error!! So I was almost an hour late, those of you who know me know that I get anxious if I am any later than 5 minutes early! So obviously I decided to drink through the situation when I arrived. Skip to the end of the night and closing time, I ordered an Uber but then decided I may as well wait at his place round the corner. Uber doesn’t work like that, it uses the location of when you order it, so inevitably I couldn’t find them. My phone then died…classic iPhone problems! By this point it was quite late on a Sunday night, I am stood in a random street in London with no idea how to get home. The one and only option was to ring No. 12’s doorbell (probably severely pissing off his housemates) and asking him to call me a cab. I think he thought he was getting lucky and I’d changed my mind, until he saw me stood there swaying in the doorstep unable to see straight. Luckily we both saw the funny side and clearly my drunken persona is attractive as he was very keen to meet up again. It was NYE 2014/15 and I was being the 7th wheel on a night out in Shoreditch, feeling a bit lonely and sorry for myself I jumped at the chance to go and see No. 12 when he asked. Within about 30 seconds of arriving I clocked that he was utterly trolleyed and instantly regretted my decision. We started having a little smooch on his sofa when he rushed to the bathroom (to vom!) a while later he reappeared and acted as if that did not just happen….obviously no chance I was going to kiss him again. 2 minutes later he says “oh…I forgot something in there” and ran off again…hahaha, did he really think I didn’t know?! Anyway, I left and I think we can call that one even.

The Lawyer

No.13, lucky for some, was a very nervous lawer who took me to Barrafina for amazing tapas. Now, eating on a first date is always slightly uncomfortable, tapas adds the extra pressure of several decisions! I would recommend this place though, very knowledgeable chefs cook in front of you and help with the menu, i enjoyed everything other that sweetbreads (what the fuck is sweet about animal balls?! I always assumed it was some sort of corn bread!). Conversation was difficult on this one, he wanted to talk about politics and law stuff while I was sat waffling away about the latest office gossip and Finding Nemo. On to the next.

The Posh One

No.14 was definitely born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he took me to Balthazar (where all the waiters knew him…clearly his go-to date venue) and tried to get me to order the lobster and caviar. I like posh…however I am not a fan of flashy, I don’t want to know how much you earn or how much you spent on the tie you are wearing! We got on well even though I felt extremely uncultured as he talked in detail about opera, vintage cars and helicopters. Anyway, he text afterwards to ask if I was free on that Friday (2 days later), I wasn’t but suggested a few days I was free the following week…he never replied. #spoiledbrat

The Lightweight

By this point, my expectations have been considerably lowered. I started to go in to dates almost expecting them to not be for me, I felt like I was hitting my head against a brick wall. Anyway, I met No.15 in Kensal Rise (where he lived….why do men always choose places convenient for them rather than us?! Again…do gentlemen exist any more?) he was a 6ft3″, half St Lucian (hello holidays!). As he was a primary school teacher he had 2 bottles of beer and then moved on to Ribena, I’m by no means a heavyweight myself but I can handle more than 2 drinks on a school night, especially on a 1st date! I think it’s almost essential to be at least tipsy on a 1st date. We organised a 2nd date but he cancelled because he was too hungover. Seriously?..what happened to no drinking on school nights? We rearranged and he flaked again due to double booking….whatever, I don’t have time for that sort of flakiness.

The Perv

Another salesman…I clearly go for the confident, or should I say cocky, types. With only 4 or 5 photos to pick from it’s strange how similar some of my dates have been! No. 16 started off quite promising (apart from the fact he had a beard like Alan from the hangover), we went to Caminos and didn’t stop talking for hours. After too many Sauvignons to think sensibly we decided to stumble in to Drink, Shop, Do where I regressed to my 18 year old self grinding and throwing some shapes to some serious noughties tunes! We went on a second date which also started quite well, although I did start to feel he was a bit forward and asked a few strange questions for this early on. So after a classy little grope in an alley way on the way to the tube, I arrive home to receive a dick pic!! Any man reading this…girls rarely actually want these! Let alone after a 2nd date! The male genitalia, while has its uses, is not the prettiest sight. I was not up for playing naked pic tennis so that ended that one!

The Pig

No. 17 was a typical rich London party boy. He had also been on a well known TV programme…practically famous! We went to a little pub in Hammersmith and he definitely had a certain charm. He was an intense character and we went on several dates quite quickly. He cooked me dinner 3 times…it turned out he was a one-trick pony as all 3 times we had salmon and veg! It was hard to decide whether to call him The Salmon one or The Pig. The final date with No.17 was an interesting one, I arrived at his flat and “his cousin” was there…I’m convinced he was actually a drug dealer as it was all a bit shifty. Later that night discovered that No. 17 made the most ridiculous pig grunts when getting intimate, it took all my strength not to inappropriately crack up! He then went to Brazil for a month (probably drug trafficking!) and we didn’t speak again.

The Off-Limits

Now…this is a tricky one! I think we’ve all had that guy who you shouldn’t go for, you know he’s off-limits and a bad move. Well No. 18 is him. On paper and sober he would not be my type but on a night out there is definitely physical chemistry. There’s been a few nights out with the exciting secret snog and footsie, yes, I actually kept a secret for once in my life! That is all it was, take the excitement of the forbidden fruit out of it and I’m pretty sure there was nothing there.

The Journalist

To this day this one is a bit of a mystery. No. 19 was a travel journalist (need a travel buddy? Pick me, pick me!!), our 1st date was at a great little cocktail bar called The Lucky Pig, he booked through his work email so they thought we were reviewing them, so the staff were a bit like a swarm of bees round a hive. We had a quiet booth and seemed to hit it off. I dated No. 19 for about 6 weeks, one other good date was Bounce (apart from my embarrassingly awful co-ordination and table tennis techers!). All was going swimmingly until he was moving house one weekend and ladies and gentleman we have another Houdini! No warning, he just vanished in to thin air. Maybe he died moving a sofa?!

The Inconsequential

This was a very impromptu on the night “let’s go for a drink” date. He happened to be passing through West Hampstead, in hind-sight maybe he was just looking to get laid. We went to The Alice House, had 2 drinks and a nice chat but there was about as much spark as a damp tissue. So No. 20 was not for me and the search for love in this buzzing city continues.

Keep an eye out for even more of my dating adventures…yes, still more!

Sophie x

The Brummy, The Baby and The Book Shop

So here it is, the dating stories, I have numbered them to avoid naming names and I am going to do them in installments of 10 so that it isn’t too long/dull to read. Some stories are a little more hazy than others, first dates and alcohol tend to go hand-in-hand! If you can’t face all of them the gems are no’s: 8, 9 and 10

The Rebound

I’m not sure this one really counts as a “dating” story. It was about a month after I broke up with my long-term boyfriend and I was feeling needy. I decided to go on a night out and drink my sorrows (never wise) and I had the subtlety of a brick about the fact I was looking for a rebound. Of course No. 1 saw the opportunity and took his chance. He was a friend’s brother which definitely wasn’t ideal and probably why it fizzled before anything started.

The First Tindee

No. 2 is the first Tinder date, I felt sick with nerves and had no idea what to expect. I was in fact very pleasantly surprised. Stood at London Bridge station, looking at every passer by thinking “Oh God please don’t let that be him”, tall, handsome No. 2 arrived and looked even better than his photos, phew! We went to a pop up rooftop event with lovely views of the city, wine, canapes, fairy lights and blankets, it was all very romantic and I was a smitten kitten with no idea how to play it cool (that part hasn’t changed). We saw each other for a couple of months but unfortunately the spark disappeared quickly and I couldn’t handle certain habits (the snoring particularly!!). I don’t think I was ready for a relationship so I decided to call it a day.

The Friend of a Friend

I met No. 3 at a friend’s house party. A friend of a friend always throws in another dynamic to the situation. I was constantly asking my friend “what’s he saying about me? Does he like me?” the answers from my friend seemed to be the opposite of the signals I was getting from No. 3. A highlight was when one night he intensely sang “You Look Wonderful Tonight” to me (having a little reminisce listen while I write), I don’t know if anyone has ever sung to you before….it’s fucking awkward! After 4 dates I concluded he was too much effort for little reward. Next!

The Insignificant

No. 4 was another Tinder find, this one is relatively insignificant. We went to Bar Americain near Piccadilly Circus for a couple of cocktails. I think it takes around 1 drink to tell if there is going to be a spark or not, as pleasant as No. 4 was, there was nothing there. Luckily I was still commuting to/from Hertfordshire so I politely made my excuses.

The Midget

No. 5 was a classic naive Tinder user error on my part. One thing that you can’t really tell from photos is someone’s height, actually recently some guy panicked that I was 6ft because 1 of my photos is with my tiny 4ft10″ friend! Anyway, about an hour before meeting No. 5 I got a text…”Hey, random question, how tall are you?!” oh shit. Now, I know it sounds shallow and I shouldn’t be heightest but I can’t help who I am attracted to and I like a man to make me feel small. No. 5 was about 5ft3″ slightly shorter than I was, luckily I didn’t have heels on. We had a nice date at a rooftop bar in Camden, I actually enjoyed his company and could have seen him as a friend but that doesn’t really work in this dating game, so we left it there.

The Essex Geezer

The only way I can describe No. 6 is a proper Essex geezer, he was a classic salesman type and thought he was a charmer. We were having a nice drink in a pub near Charlotte Street when he suddenly “remembered” he was meant to be at a work drinks thing and needed to run after 1 drink, at the time I fell for this. He apologised and said he’d love to meet up again the following week….Please can someone explain why they need to lie like this?! He did a classic Houdini and I never heard again.

The Brummy

As I write this I am starting to realise how I may come across judgemental, I try not to be, I also think over the past 3 years I have become much more open minded and I suppose loosened my Mr Right criteria. No. 7 was a Brummy and had such a strong accent that I lost count of the number of times I said “pardon?!”, some accents can be sexy, Berminggum is not one!

The Lust of My Life

Ahh No.8…this guy is was without a doubt the lust of my life. We hadn’t planned to meet but were¬†both be out in Soho on a Friday night. We met at a pub and I have never felt anything like it, I obviously knew I found him attractive from his pictures, but in real life the spark was absolutely electric. I wouldn’t describe myself as a hussy but No. 8 lit a fire inside me and I was not going to wait. A quick emergency shave of the legs (we’ve all been there!) and I will leave the rest to your imagination. Heartbreakingly after a couple more dates I found out he was a commitment phobe and a head-fuck and just wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship that I am. In some ways I think it is a good thing this one stopped there, I’ll always have the¬†memory of that intense passion which I’m sure would have worn off had we continued.

The Baby

Here we get to No. 9, now I am slightly ashamed about how I treated No. 9, I always try to treat people how I expect to be treated and in this case I was badly behaved and not in a good way! I will get on to that. No. 9 had some baggage, he was going through a divorce as his (ex)wife had left him for his friend *alarm bells*. He also had a 1 year old, he was upfront about this and I was trying to figure out if I could cope with the idea…I later realised it is definitely a deal breaker for me. He arrived at our 1st date with a cupcake from his daughter’s 1st birthday party….sweet or creepy? You decide! Anyway for whatever reason I ended up going on several dates with No.9, we went to Barrio Central, Wahaca, wine tasting, The Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town (we were a bit like a walking TimeOut magazine!). After several cocktails one evening I mentioned I was going to The Blitz Party with some work friends and stupidly (but casually) said why didn’t he join?! The next morning I woke up to a text saying he had been to buy his outfit…uhoh what had I got myself in to?! My friends obviously found this hilarious, especially as I had decided I wanted to end it anyway. So, I purposely didn’t invite him to pre-drinks and said I would meet him there at 9(ish). Pre-drinks were my work friend, his girlfriend and No.10! You can probably guess where this is going…with my wine confidence I was extremely forward and told No. 10 that I fancied him but that I had a date on his way so nothing could happen. Even more wine and sneaking around for a cheeky snog with No. 10 seemed very exciting, until we got caught! Bright red lipstick isn’t easy to disguise. Yes, I was out of order..hands up, I admit that and since apologised to No. 9, however he reacted as if I had just completely broken his heart and insisted we leave immediately. We walked back to my flat from Baker Street where I explained why we weren’t compatible. We got in and I went to sleep in my housemate’s room so I didn’t have to share a bed with him and couldn’t help telling her the story hysterically laughing (which he probably heard), I didn’t dare leave her room til midday in fear of facing him in the morning, he’d actually left at 6am! Needless to say, that was the end of that.

The Book Shop

Well he has already been introduced to the story and brace yourselves, this is the all time best/worst story! As you know, we met at The Blitz Party which means he was in uniform and I could not get any idea of his (lack of) style. No. 10 was actually probably one of the most intelligent people I have met, but equally one of the strangest. We met at Waterloo station, always a nightmare…so many exits!! It was a Saturday day date and I was hungover (I learned that lesson the hard way!). He had a backpack with him and got a book out saying “I have this book of fun things in London, so thought we can do stuff from there”. Nice thought, however I don’t know who wrote this book but they certainly have a different definition of “fun” to me! The 1st stop was a quirky jewllery shop, next up a book shop where all books had a blank cover, followed by a men’s boutique clothes shop…at this point it is dawning on me that this is not a good date! Oh and that I’d had wine glasses on when we 1st met. So then we stopped for a cup of tea (I could have used something stronger!) where¬†he told me about his slightly obsessive love of Harry Potter. A couple more random/weird shops and he suggests we get a drink…great I’m gasping!! So we headed to a pub, he found us seats upstairs where we were the only people (damn), he started giving me the creepy eyes and I knew what was coming…he kissed me, now I know I have a choice but the awkwardness of not kissing someone back in that situation is far greater than just going with the flow closing your eyes and imagining it it Tom Hardy (don’t try to pretend you haven’t done it). After what felt like an excruciatingly long time he said he was hungry so we should get some food, why on earth was I still there?! Food is always a win with me though so how much worse could it be? En route to get some food, we walked past Waterstones, he literally dragged me in and said “sorry this is my favourite Waterstones” erm….excuse me?! You have a favourite Waterstones? I was in disbelief. We were browsing the text book section (well I was texting my friends explaining the ridiculousness of the situation and trying very hard to keep a straight face). We were there for an HOUR AND A HALF!!!! Again, why did I not just leave?! Either I am way too nice or way too stupid. He even came over at one point to say “having fun? *big grin*”, I was speechless. Finally we left and reached his choice for food….wait for it…Wetherspoons!! I mean, maybe this was some sort of dare or joke?? So we sit down, oh and of course the football has just started (which he hates and moans about), when he says “OK well I will go up and order mine and then you can go and order yours” again…speechless. Now I am definitely a modern girl and I do not mind going dutch on a first date whatsoever but if you can’t buy me a ¬£5 shitty burger and drink after I have been in Waterstones for an hour and a half then you are not the man for me! At the very least let me go up first, chivalry, what’s that?! I would be impressed if anyone could top that one. No such thing as a bad date…just a good story!

Watch out for the next instalment of dating diasters and stories.

Sophie x

If you’re appy and you know it clap your hands

3 years ago I emerged from the bubble of university, 23, newly single, ¬†and I was plunged in to the modern dating world. As I’m sure most of you are aware, it was a whole new ball game (no pun intended).

I was having lunch with a friend explaining my apprehension about getting back out there when she told me about this “great new app” that everyone is using to find dates and even boyfriends, you guessed it…Tinder! I rushed home and downloaded it to my phone and I suppose that is where it all began.

The addictive swiping and the thrill of new matches makes choosing a potential date feel so easy and effortless. There is no risk of rejection, well…apart from apps like Coffee Meets Bagel who like to point out you had NO right swipes this week, thanks for the confidence boost dating gurus! ¬†It works for some people, every week I hear of a friend of a friend of Uncle Bob’s son’s friend that has just met “the one” on Tinder and so the hope continues….he’s on there somewhere!

Sadly, the novelty soon wears off. The biggest issue with dating apps is that everyone is looking for something different. Most 20-something men are on the prowl for an easy lay or my pet hate “casual fun” aka having their cake and eating it. Meanwhile, there are the crazies looking to marry their 1st match or ask you to partake in some obscene fetish (no, I don’t want to dress up as Darth Vader for you!). Where are all the middle ground men hiding?! I’m perfectly happy with this stage of my life, it’d just be nice to share it with a nice, normal man…too much to ask? So far it seems so.

I’ve tried them all (well, the free ones, I haven’t quite got to the stage of paying to go on lousy dates just yet!): Tinder, Happn, POF, Coffee Meets Bagel, Double (my housemate got dragged in to that one, one drunken evening), The Inner Circle and most recently Bumble. If you’re new to this, I will save you time, they are all the same! I feel like I have completed all the levels of a not-so-fun Playstation game and now I’m just replaying while I wait for the next level to be released.

We have reached a time where meeting a boyfriend naturally in day to day life is very rare. Why would a man speak to a girl he finds attractive in public when there are hundreds at a touch of a button, it’s far less intimidating. Stalking strangers while sat in bed eating ice cream is also far more appealing than actual human interaction. I think we are all guilty of wanting to hide behind technology, skip ahead a few years and I’m sure we’ll all be dating robots…undoubtedly with more success!

We have all turned¬†slightly appaholic, I myself have discarded potential relationships for the silliest reasons: he sounds like Kermit, he has girly hands, his eyebrows look like slugs. The thousands of options out there lead to an addictive search for the elusive perfect partner and I honestly believe this prevents so many relationships from starting, we are living in such an impatient era and don’t give things a chance to grow (I say whilst sitting here swiping!).

My two housemates and I are all single and we sit in our flat night after night analysing this conundrum, trying to think of ways around the viscous cycle of exhausting app dating, however the conclusion is always the same…this is just the way it is now and we are going to have to find a way to make it work for us or get lucky!

Right, my rant is over, the reason I started with this post is that it sets the scene, the past 3 years have been filled with many first dates and some brilliant stories that I can’t wait to share with you…watch this space.

Sophie x

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