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.