Speed Dating

Dating was taking up too much time.

I don't have much free time, the bits that I do are precious, so I figured it was time to try my own method of speed dating. Sort of.

So there was The Weekend.
I did dinner Friday night: The Quiet One.
Brunch Saturday morning: The Nerd.
Dinner Saturday night: The Gardener.
Lunch Sunday: The Osteo.

There were many other things that I still had to fit in around the dating regime of that weekend, but I found one thing more than anything else... I started to forget which conversations I'd had with whom. And as a result I started to keep a journal.
It is thanks to that journal that I have enough notes to write this 'blog and to have an idea of who is who, what went on when, and where I went at what point in time...

My memory is terrible at the best of times, so it's been a handy little keepsake.

You need to keep ample time between dates, incase they're great, but they can be as short as a 20 minute coffee.
Always do coffee first.
Never commit to lunch.
If coffee is great, then it can always extend into a wander through the shops, an activity (keep it clean kids!), lunch or something else, but having a time constraint for later is a good plan as it leaves you wanting. And being left wanting is great! It means that it's worth going back to.

NEVER tell them you have another date lined up afterwards... Not socially graceful.

The Accountant

I did end up taking a hiatus for a while.

I think the definition of hiatus is apt - from the cambridge dictionary:
"a short pause in which nothing happens or is said, or a space where something is missing"

"Short pause" being the operative term. Four weeks out was considerable, especially reflecting on the prior 10 (or so) weeks. Ok, so I'm not even sure I could put hand to heart and say it was four... but the point is, I made an effort to take a break.

When I jumped back to it, I went on a date with the Accountant. It was Christmas Eve. An odd day for a date really. It was also the day I got my puppy, so the puppy joined us. A puppy makes for a great pick up tool. But if you're going to try this method, trust me, borrow one! (I have a really cute, energetic one up for grabs!)

The date was non-eventful, and the first of many nonchalant no follow ups (We're not including The Player here). This, I find in the dating world - particularly the online dating world - is a common theme. Drifting is easy. You can just not. (Yes that sentence is complete). So if a date is just average, then not following up seems to be ok. This annoys me, as I kinda like closure. Yup: delete, move on.

Kinda like spring cleaning.

The Toy Boy

In our building there was a cafeteria. The owner of which was particularly gorgeous. One of those people who was always surrounded by gorgeous people. One of the guys he had come in to do some cover work every now and then was The Toy Boy. My goodness, this guy used to make my coffee taste SO much sweeter!

I drank more coffee on the days this guy used to work than was imaginable. It was ridiculous.

He was also about 19. Ok, so he was really 23 or so, but that's still younger than my baby brother!

At our work xmas function we went to the local Bowls club to play some afternoon bowls. Lots of fun.
The Toy Boy also happened to be there.
He also decided to come play with us.
He also decided to partner with lil ol' me.

Lil ol' me was rather pleased with this outcome. The flirting was outrageous. I'm pretty sure that I have no shame when it comes to flirting - and consequently aiming to get my way ;) I'm also pretty sure that most of the other people there noticed that too!

We ended up leaving there, heading into the city to kick on for the night, but leaving The Toy Boy behind. I retrieved his number by way of a mutual friend. Flicked a text, got an instant response.
BINGO!
Seems the shameless flirting paid off.

Before too long I get a call, take it, deciding to put my ageist differences behind me.
Ask this lovely young man what he's up to and if he'd like to join us.

He proceeds to tell me that he's stopped in at home to punch a few cones, that he's smashed, completely totalled, but would love to catch up...

So very appealing. (Sarcasm is hard in the written form). Funnily enough I chose to give it a miss. My stoner days are long over.


I don't think there's much more to say here. I was going to make a comment about not being judgmental, but clearly that would come across as false. I think that what it comes down to, more so, is that that lifestyle doesn't suit mine (is that an uppity way of being judgmental?).

I still see him from time to time. He's still just as gorgeous, and I'd still like to shag his brains out.

Boots

So I have this friend...

No really! It's not one of those stories where I'm trying to guise myself as someone else.
This friend is the one who primarily makes me ponder a lot over what makes a date a date.

In about September/October last year I was out at The Playground (Yes, shock horror I know!) with my favourite partner in crime, and we bumped into an old colleague. This colleague (we'll call him The Botox Man) had a friend with him. This friend is the man we'll refer to as "Boots".

So, The Botox Man has this amazing knack for remembering details that you wouldn't possibly think that someone would remember. For example, you may make mention 18 months ago about wanting to go on a holiday to Fiji... this guy remembers that shit and asks if ever you 'ever took that holiday to Fiji'.
Completely besides the point!

Boots however swore that he knew me from somewhere. Now, I never forget a face. Names, dates, times, sure - I'll forget those things, but a face - no way! No chance.
Even when on a blinder, I'll remember a face.

So Boots wears a wedding ring. This is a good thing. This means he's a safe, easy conversationalist with no sleazy antics... right?!
He's smart, funny, good looking, easy to talk to. No wonder the guy is married.
We sit around, chat, we work in the same speciality, so that makes the conversation even easier.

Was there chemistry? Absolutely. But this one is easy. If there is a ring on that finger, you just simply don't go there. There are no ifs, no buts. It's a clear no go zone.

After a while we trotted up to the Ivy, The Botox Man headed home. So it was just the three of us left. We danced until the wee hours, then, as civilised adults do, we went our separate ways. Perhaps suggestions were made, but the point is, regardless of the suggestions, I went home anyway.

The next morning, the strangest thing happened... I get an email from a man I'd done a series of negotiations with some 12 months earlier... claiming he'd had a great night the night before with this chick who's memory wasn't nearly as good as the boots she wore... ... ...


The emails continued over time. Light hearted, always clean, but with a hint of innuendo.
Then one day (yes yes, believe it or not) my morals got the better of me and I emailed him saying that enough was enough (the emails were usually prompted by him). He was a married man, and if I were his wife and read his emails, I'm not sure I'd be happy. So whilst there was nothing 'wrong' with anything that was sent... I'm not entirely sure it was 'right' either.
He said that I was overreacting, that I was reading into something that wasn't there, but if he was making me uncomfortable, then it was fine, he'd stop writing me.

:/

Now, I pride myself on not being high-maintenance. At this point, I'm feeling pretty high-maintenance. So I reply, apologise for getting my wires crossed, and fair's fair.

He responds it's all cool, forget about it, we should catch up for lunch sometime.
I postpone until the point that you can't postpone anymore.

So this brings me really to something I've raised before, and hence my point. This to me is not a 'date'. It isn't a date because there was no intent (on my part) for it to be so. And I think there has to be. That said, if there is intent, does the intent have to be communicated? Surely "I'm asking you out on a date" doesn't need to be that explicit. "Would you like to have dinner with me" would imply, usually, to me anyway, that that is a date, but surely the context of the question also has to be implied.
The reason I believe this is because surely a man and a woman can catch up and have dinner together without it being interpreted as a date?
I can think of many instances where this is the case.

I've gotten no further with resolving this. Everyone I talk to has a different opinion. A lot of people say you 'just know'. But if that were the case, then either I'm naive, or it just doesn't apply in cases such as The Old Friend.

The Devil

The next night.

Ok, I think we've moved on from promiscuity to general whoring at this point... (how does two one nights out in a row classify me as a hussy? It just does in my book!)

I had a shindig that I was attending and didn't know many people there, but a friend of mine lived right up the road from where it was held, so he joined me.

We'd had a random 'pash and dash' a year prior. Nothing had come of it, it was never mentioned again. There's a rule you see, you don't screw the crew! We all know this one.

We drank a lot, decided to leave my car parked at his place and I'd collect it the next morning. We drank stupidly... (Still in destructive mode remember!). I was on good behaviour, and on the prowl. The night got late. He left. Checked in with me somewhere in the early hours to ensure I was ok. (How courteous). I wasn't. I was DRunk. So, as he lived only across the road, his strong suggestion was to head to his place, and crash there, and he'd make me some food in the mean time.

How very courteous! And I was hungry, as one is at some ungodly hour after lord knows how much tequila...
So off I went, and trundled up to his place...

Now of course, being the lady I am, I graciously sat down, ate my nicely made egg sandwich with my knife and fork and slept on the couch...
...
...

or maybe not.
At least the sex (if you could call it that) was better!

We did brunch the next morning, and I didn't have to introduce myself ;)

The only thing that got me was when he realised he had a bump on his forehead half way through brunch which we were having with a friend of his). Which made me cackle hysterically. He had no recollection of how it got there. Then it dawned on him.

The Rollercoaster Designer

First night out post The Player was disastrous. I was angry, hurt, bitter... and worst of all, in self-destruct mode.

So, off I go, back to the playground.

I was supposed to meet a girlfriend there. A notoriously unreliable one. I walked in, looked around, couldn't see her, walked to the bar and ordered a drink.
Now, this place called the 'meat market' for a reason. You don't stand at the bar on your own for long. It took a whole of about three seconds before I had company. Seeing as I couldn't see my girlfriend, I figured this would pass the time.

This guy was priceless. Amazingly arrogant. We bantered about how long you should wait for someone. I have an eight minute rule (for meetings) as I believe that time is precious and not to be wasted.  He believes that 'at the rate he charges' (apparently a grand an hour) he can afford to just sit around and wait.
I debated that he charged a grand an hour. He pointed out that I must not know many lawyers. I pointed out more so that if he charged that rate, he could afford a decent suit. He seemed unimpressed.

He and his mate (there were three of them, one was quiet) kept asking what I did for a living. So I told them I did handstands. It was the first thing that came to mind, and it was bugging the shit out of them, so I stuck with it.

He was a recruitment consultant.  I tried to redeem myself (on the suit comment) by telling him I was in the market for a new job.  His response: "Oh no sweety, I only do executive recruitment". Arsehole.
His mate was a real estate agent...

Then there was the third one, their other mate. He was quiet, just kept smirking. He'd listen, scoff, then look around, wander off, come back. When he did talk, he was hilarious. I asked him what he did for bread, he told me he was a rollercoaster designer. Kudos.

My girlfriend never showed, so I called it. The RD asks if I'm going home on my own. I tell him what is real: I always go home on my own. I've never had a one night stand in my life.
He asks me if I always play by the rules.
Me: not always.
Him: So lets go then.
Me: *thinking* - Screw it. Lets go.

We left and I did what I always swore I would never do. I took him home. First one night stand ever. It was terrible. What he did when he slept could not be classified as snoring... Bellowing perhaps, paint stripping, grating... I think you get the gist...

6am couldn't come soon enough. I handed him a towel, pointed out the shower and called him a cab.

And then the priceless moment came, thankfully I was expecting it:
Him: So... I don't know your name
Me: Do you need to?
Him: It would be useful.
Me: And why's that?
Him: For when I call.
Me: I think we both know that's not going to happen... It's called a 'one night stand' for a reason.
Him: So...
Me: Why don't you just make one up?
Him: Hmmm. *thinks this over* How about Clair
Me: Claire's fine.
Him: is that with or without an 'e'.
Me: If you like the e, add an e, if you don't leave it out.

So he takes my number (lord only knows why), adds it to his phone under "Clair" (he went for the sans-'e' option), and surprise surprise, never called.



I get why I don't do the one night stand thing now. It doesn't appeal to me. That said, this, unfortunately, wasn't the last...