The Player

I've put off writing this post for quite some time I've realised. Because for all the fun and frivolity that I have, for all the things I'm happy to take light heartedly and cast aside, eventually something is bound to change.
This is the pivotal point in my dating adventures... I reevaluate from here on.

It started with a cheeky email. Then we chatted online. I remember typing furiously, giggling, glass of wine in hand. Then a 'quick' phone call that lasted for hours.

I've often been baffled and frustrated by the concept of 'chemistry'. Annoyed when it is there, and often equally annoyed when it is missing. Some beautiful things could be in my life if I had the capability of flicking on a switch that would enable me to love to that degree, by choice. It frustrates me that someone else can have the 'power' to turn me into mush at a simple thought. When I'm smitten I have the incapacity to think for days on end, I become an ogre, and an excitable child at the drop of a hat. I like to deflect this aspect of my personality by saying that I'm "passionate". Rather, I'm irrational!

The first time we met started with laughter. My car has a safety feature I often forget about; it automatically locks the passenger door when I drive. I picked up The Player from his place, and was incredibly nervous. So when he was standing, for a good twenty seconds, at the passenger door, I thought perhaps he was nervous too. But rather, my car had locked him out. Upon eventual realisation, I unlocked the door, but was laughing hysterically. I’m not sure he found it as funny as I did!

We picked up coffee, took a drive down to the beach, and wandered the shores. It was a perfect evening. 28 degrees, clear night, great company, amazing views, coffee, and an amazing amount of chemistry. We carried on like kids in the shallows of the ocean til we were soaked and it was late. We giggled like children. We held hands. He even found me a perfect shell to take a piece of the night home.

I am, after all, and believe it or not, a devastatingly hopeless romantic.

I awoke the next morning to a succinct but incredibly sweet text.

Date #2 - we went for Japanese by way of the local shopping centre. We happened to pass by a pet store. We stopped to look at the puppies. He asks the lady to pull out this adorable cocker spaniel, and hands me this tiny adorable puppy. Who does that!
Dinner was great, conversation - easy. He slips the possibility of time in January for a holiday to Japan... (It's November)...

Date #3 - I'm passing by his work on the way back to my office from a City meeting, so I stop by for coffee. He proudly takes my hand, leads me into his local coffee joint and orders me coffee without consultation by me. He remembers my coffee order - sounds small, big tick on my list.

Date #4 was a fair amount of time after Date #3, although there were several emails, phone calls and IM's between. He invited me around for dinner. He picks me up at the door and carries me into his loungeroom. He pours me a glass of my favourite wine (Ref Date #2). He hands me this amazing bunch of flowers. Dinner was great, conversation fantastic, chemistry intense.

Date #5 was again almost a week post Date 4. We'd had a conversation in the interim that had ended badly so I wanted to make it up to him. (I'm a lover not a fighter.) I packed a picnic basket and picked him up. It was a warm night, so we went back to the beach. It was nice. We sat, ate, talked. Ended up back at his place and resolved the earlier argument in ways that weren't planned, but didn't take me by surprise considering the chemistry that there was between us. The sex was unfulfilling... But this is what I expect if you're going go jump into bed with someone at this early stage of getting to know them.

Two days later I had plans to have lunch with him during the day (a Wednesday). The conversation in the morning started (by him) with requests to define the perfect night in. The conversation got a little raunchy, and lunch ended up with quick and dirty sex back at his place. By the time I dropped him back to work I knew it was over.

I have never longed so badly for someone to turn their head. Watching him walk towards his office it became clearer with every step. By the time I got back to my office, he was ‘offline’, which he never was.

I left it a day.  It’s amazing how long a day can seem in the electronic world. I refused to log into gmail, but then would check it anyway. Every time my phone went off I would jump a mile. Every new email became a burden to check. I began to justify to myself all the reasons these things could happen, reiterate to myself that I was acting like an idiot. I even tried telling myself that I didn’t really like him anyway...

We’d had plans for Friday night. He had asked to join me at my brother’s function. So I touched base Friday afternoon, but he had an appointment with his personal trainer he'd ‘forgotten’ about. I’m pretty sure I drank an entire bottle of tequila that night.

The next day I get a text message asking how my night was. It caught me off guard. My reply was short. Mentioned I was at the beach (the picnic beach). He said he knew, he’d driven past and saw my car. That was the last conversation we had.

It was only three weeks. 21 odd days. A handful of dates. I felt so amazingly alive. I trusted what was presented to me as too good to be true. But worst of all was that at the end, it felt like I’d been played from the very beginning.

The Lecturer

Clever one this one.

No, seriously clever. But just not that smart. If you get where I'm going with that.

We dated a bit. A fair bit. After seven dates I was getting frustrated. 

I'm laughing whilst typing recalling how badly this went from the beginning. 

First date was truly excellent. Perfect in fact. 

By third date I'm pretty sure he was trying to get me in the back seat of his car. Now I actually struggled to type that as I recall it. 

Back - seat - of - his - car. 

40 year old (him, not me, thank you very much!) This is no longer cool, nor has it been since I was 15.

Besides the back-seat incident I couldn't get the guy to lay a finger on me, to the point where I started to think that perhaps there was an issue... And yes, I was thinking that I was the issue. What was I doing wrong, did I have terribly bad breath, was I a horrid kisser, all of the things that could all be solved with the age old trick - cook him dinner, and get him drunk!
So I did! Seduction! Hadn't failed me yet.
Fed him - watered him - even led him to the bedroom, and you know what came next?!
"Time for me to leave" he says...
Hmmmm.

A week later we had pre-planned a trip interstate. This made for an interesting play considering the bedroom antics. (What bedroom antics!)

For the men in the room, let me give you a pointer right now - if you're taking a girl away, and you're sharing a room - Please Remember - THE WALLS ARE THIN. We do know what goes on in the bathroom even if we pretend we don't. Taking your iPhone with you doesn't make things any better.
Particularly three times a day for 20-30 minute sessions.

Being away, being in a studio apartment meant the end of the bedroom shyness. (Yes ladies and gentlemen, she finally gets laid!) At least I think I did.
Some of you may choose to not read the next paragraph - this is my disclaimer - don't say you weren't warned... it includes adult content!

I have a theory, perhaps I'm going down the wrong path. I've always been a believer that faking gets things over and done with quicker. Generally speaking you fake an orgasm, the man thinks he's done his job, then he is happy to get on his merry way, and we're all happy. Or, to be honest, I'm still not happy, I'm just happy it's over.
But this one was special (remember my comment about him not being smart!). This one was SO bad that my seriously unconvincing faking effort managed to convince him he'd done a good job. So he persists for a second 'orgasm'. I fake quicker. He then goes a 'third'.
At this point who's the dumb one I hear you ask? I got myself into this mess (pardon the pun). So I (seriously unconvincingly) fake one last time, and call it quits.
I'm going to save you all the pain I then went through for the following 30 seconds and will continue on my story. But believe me when I say it was a very very short story.


I have rarely met a more arrogant man. So rather than dragging you through much more pain than you've just cringed (and hopefully giggled) through with the above, let me make it simple below with a few pointers which I did end up pointing out to him a month after it ended with The Lecturer, by way of email, at his insistence:

Things never to say to a woman you're dating:

• "You're not that clever"
• "I need you back at the hotel room for another 'round'"
• "Be careful. That's hot"
• "You can take 'care' of me now"
• "I'm done now"
• Conversations about your ex-wife - 17 times a day.
• Oh, and did I mention "You're not that clever!"

The Forbidden Man

There is one person that we should always be forbidden to touch.
It might be your sister's ex-boyfriend, or your best friend's brother. It might be your best mate, or your best mate's girl... You get the gist...

The point is, you don't go there. Because for some reason, whatever that reason might be, they're forbidden. The forbidden fruit. The one thing you can't have. And as we all know, we can't have everything we want. Having everything we want is bad for us... Right?!

We've been taught this for a very long time. We were taught, from kids, that we can't have everything. Even if it didn't make sense, our parents were teaching us that gluttony was bad, that everything had to come in moderation. It didn't make sense as kids, and sometimes it still doesn't make sense.

Eve. Poor Eve. She copped the raw end of the deal, we all know that! She took the Apple. But you think Adam wouldn't have given into temptation?

So, if one thing that you want, that you quite possibly know is bad for you, presented itself right there in front of you, would you take it?
I'm not talking breaking up marriages. I'm not talking cheating on husbands or wives. I'm not talking being thrown from the Garden of Eden...
Ok, for this one I might get ousted from the garden...

I have the personality that is always going to go for the Apple. I'm not going to settle for what is in reach. I strive for the next challenge, the unreachable. The impossible gain. And I enjoy the tenacity.

The Old Friend

Forgive me father, for I have sinned... It has been two weeks since my last 'blog session...

In October, or there abouts, an old friend asked me to join him on a kid friendly outing. I don't remember his exact words, but the insinuation was- a group of friends, park, live music, picnic, kids.

Sounded fun, so I bundled up the kids, packed a picnic basket and off we went.

Now, there is a bit of history I suppose I should fill you in on here. This friend of mine, a single dad, has asked me out on many a date previously. I don't mean this in an egotistic manner... We've been friends a long time. But that's it, just friends. Nothing more, and no dates have ever eventuated.

So the kids and I rock up to the park, picnic baskets overflowing and there he is. Keen as mustard. So I ask, shall we pick the spot or is there already a dedicated spot for everyone somewhere else, to which I receive a vague waved arm and a mumbled response, so I follow in suit, and wander up off the hill, live music playing, watching the kids making sure they don't stray too far.

We sit, we unpack, and as the kids start to play, it dawns on me. There is no group picnic. This is a date...

The day goes smoothly, the kids have fun, the music is good, but it starts to rain. So we pack up and head our separate ways. There was lots of attempted hand holding, close-sitting, sharing of food, and other couple-y stuff that made me squirm just a little.

So my point and question is this: What makes a date a date?
When one single person asks another single person out to a place at a point in time, is it automatically a date, or is it the intentions behind the question that make it a date?
Can you trick someone into a date? Clearly yes... But is there any point!
Do the intentions of it being a date have to be made clear for it to be a date?
What if a married person (with not so innocent intentions) asks a single person out for a meal? Is that counted as a date? (We'll come to this down another day!)