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!
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.
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
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.
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!
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.
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.
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?!
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!