So I had a bad date with the help of Dutch, so the best thing to do was Taylor Swift it.
And yes, Taylor Swift is a guilty pleasure and one of my spirit animals. Judge me all you want.
I think what I took from Dutch was my instincts might be rusty, but they still know the magnetic north of what isn’t okay. After my confidence was knocked from my last relationship, the whole Dutch thing made me realise that I still have my backbone.
Not all my dates since joining the single club were terrible; I had some really good dates with some awesome people. But those stories aren’t fun to regale.
However, my dating fails and stories over the years have been pretty hilarious, even if I do say so myself. So here’s a snapshot of a few:
I was meeting a guy I was dating for a few weeks; we’d actually been keen on each other for years but both being shy, it didn’t work out until we caught up with each other coincidentally on a night out with friends and my brother. Let’s call him Dick.
It was his birthday, and we were going to Dick’s favourite bar and restaurant where we went most weekends – so by this point I knew most of the staff (and was bored of the place, but it was his call). I rocked up all shades of hot wearing a summer dress that showed off my assets, and was meeting him in the bar.
So I’m walking up to the door and noticed it was pretty busy tonight, and just as I’m stepping over the threshold – I face plant the clear glass door that was closed. The whole restaurant lets out a collective “oooooo” noise. I step back, and blink – noticing that not only can you see my face print on the glass, but my rocking cleavage had also taken some of the blow and left their mark. Mortified, I opened the door and everyone clapped. I turned to the bar to see that my date wasn’t there, but the staff we knew had seen the whole thing. They were doubled over, unable to speak and poured me a stiff drink.
A minute later, Dick walks out of the men’s and sees me and the bar staff laughing. Thankfully no one ever told him what had happened; and the guys quickly cleaned the glass to hide my shame.
This is going to sound awful, but I don’t remember who this date was with… but I remember waiting for him to pick me up so we could go on our nth date. Anyway, this guy had just gotten a new car and although I had been in it a couple of times, I couldn’t remember much about it.
He was running a little later than planned, so I was waiting and noticed this black car has turned up and is waiting outside the house with blacked out windows. I go out and open the passenger door, climb in and beam at the driver who, I quickly realised, was not my date. The driver stares back at me, and after a few seconds I say “You’re not *name I forgot*” and he replies with “no… I’m not”. I apologised and ran as quickly as my legs could into the house out of shame. Anyway, my date arrived afterwards and he was driving a black car with blacked out windows too! So I’m not a complete spoon!
Turned out he was a friend of next door. Well… do you think I heard the end of it from my neighbour? They’ve moved now, thankfully.
So. I’m tall… like 6 foot tall. The thing is, I never really thought it was a problem until I went out with one guy who was half my size. Maybe that’s an over exaggeration but he was tiny… smaller then my mum!
On our first date, I didn’t realise how short he was because we were sat down the whole thing whilst I was sober. And I didn’t realise when we were saying good night because I had a bit to drink, and he stood on the pavement whilst I was stood in the road so I only leaned down a little.
ANYWAY, I digress… we had dated a little while and one date was going back to his place “for coffee” in a taxi. We had some drinks, so was making out in the back of the taxi. And I burped. A long, garlicky burp… mid kiss in his mouth. Gotta give the guy credit, he didn’t vomit in my mouth. So yeah, not my greatest moment!
Maybe I should just stick to my own brand of seduction by awkwardness.