Tag Archives: online dating

The return of Fit but Flaky

1 Jun

Well, here’s a surprise.

It was wayyyyy back in December that I dated B. We met on the eHarmony. He was the first person I dated after the ex. And I couldn’t work him out. It took two (good) dates to get to the kissing, and then he flaked out, randomly sending me texts every few days that lead nowhere, and exhibiting extreme passive flirtatious behaviour. I christened him ‘Fit but Flaky’.

In the end, I texted him early in January and said that it had been nice getting to know him, but that he obviously didn’t want to meet up again and that was fine, but that I hoped 2014 would be good to him. He texted back almost immediately to say he’d been busy. And I ignored him.

So I wasn’t sure what to do when his picture popped up on Tinder on Friday night. The beauty of Tinder is that you can swipe right to say you’re interested and the person at the other end won’t ever know unless they are interested too. Now, B is incredibly attractive. So I’d be off my fricking head not to swipe right.

What do you know, B had swiped right too.

He started the conversation. And it was a good conversation. He apologised for being flakey, but said he’d had a lot on his plate and was just being rubbish, but that he really liked talking to me (and kissing me) and was really glad that we’d met. I said not to worry – that compared to most men he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. I told him about the ex and that back in December I probably wasn’t really myself anyway. He was really nice about it. I told him about the Tinder date last week that lasted a whopping 40 minutes. He was nice about that too and swore it couldn’t have been my arms that put the dude off. He even went as far as to say that I don’t have sausage arms. Which was nice to hear.

In the end I said, “Well, we got on so well, it would be a shame not to be friends. Do you fancy a coffee sometime?”

To which he replied, “Cocktails and I’m in, but you must forgive me if I make a pass at you. You do have the cutest outfits.”

He’s right. I do.

I said that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but that – regardless – it would be nice just to catch up.

And so we’re going for cocktails next week.

He’s still one of the most curious cats I’ve ever come across. He’s also the most ridiculously good-looking person I’ve ever snogged.

What on earth is life going to put in my path next? I’ve given up trying to guess.

The Leftover Men

29 May


So last night’s Tindertastrophe didn’t make me feel great about myself. If we had enjoyed at least a couple of drinks and over an hour of conversation, I could understand. Sometimes it’s just not for you. But to decide so quickly and come down with an illness so mysteriously. Well, it made me wonder. Was he put off by my fat arms? (I do have sausage arms.)

But also – sausage arms or no sausage arms – who does that? It’s like something out of a bad movie. He scampered off to the toilet about thirty minutes into the date and then emerged and declared that he felt desperately unwell and would have to go home. And then had the cheek to say, “See you soon!” when we parted ways. What kind of an individual does that? Did his mother teach him nothing?

Honestly, since the pizza of doom things have just been getting worse and worse. There was fit but flaky B. Then there was Irish Two with his total lack of emotion. Then Irish Three who didn’t feel a spark. Sunday’s Irish Four cancelled on me. And now apparently I possess the ability to repel men in record time. Go me.

It leads me to believe what I have feared for a while now: when you’re single in your thirties you are dealing with the Leftover Men.

Leftover Men. Ugh.

Nobody wants them. They are deficient in some way. For some, they are incapable of feeling anything or connecting to other human beings (like my dear friend Irish Two). Some set their standards too high. After being alone for so long it’s going to take someone really special to make them want a relationship. Some have no doubt been burned by heartless women who have made them into leftover shells of what could have been a perfectly good guy. And it’s not their fault. But it also doesn’t make them a charming or at the very least polite date.

So here I am. Aged 32. Surrounded by nothing but other people’s castoffs and the ones that nobody wanted in the first instance.

Bl**dy great.

And, no, no no no no no. I am not a Leftover Girl.

Something’s just gone horribly wrong somewhere. I guess I have to wait until the Non-Leftover Men start getting divorced. What a happy thought.

F*** tinder

28 May

Met Tinder dude. Attractive.

I thought all was well.

Until 40 minutes in he decided he felt violently ill. Less than an hour later I’m on the bus home.

I guess he was instantly repulsed.

At least he paid for my drink.

I suppose.

eHarmony, the Irish, and Tinder

28 May

I was supposed to go on a date on Sunday. He cancelled on me. This is probably no bad thing since he was from the same part of Ireland as my ex, and had almost exactly the same job. Hmmmm. Anyway, I was almost relieved that he cancelled. He had apparently met someone else. My only issue is that he cancelled with only a few hours to go, and had I known I could have gone to Ikea that morning and bought boxes to help me sort out my flat a little. Well, maybe I have one other issue. But it’s not with Irish Four. It’s with eHarmony.

eHarmony. The root of all my problems. Had I never met my ex, I would never have had to go through this cycle of love and grief and pain. Admittedly, I chose to rejoin following the pizza of doom. But why eHarmony insists on matching me with endless Irish men who work in finance is beyond me. Although I’m thankful for the introduction to Irish Two who has turned out to be a strange but special friend.

Instead, I’ve now joined Tinder.

I’d heard horror stories of guys sending penis selfies, and messages that amount to sexual harassment. But, so far, it’s been good, clean, fun. And 154 matches is a nice little ego boost. The people are way less intense than on eHarmony. And they seem to have better chat. I also like the fact that they are forced to write their own script rather than resort to sending me screening questions or (worst of all) ‘Must Haves and Can’t Stands’. I have to ask eHarmony whether they have any cases of people who actually self-screen against these. Imagine. Imagine thinking, “Oh well, he looked hot and we seemed to have loads in common, but unfortunately I have poor personal hygiene, terrible manners, I lie, I cheat, and I’m a massive racist.” Seriously.

(To clarify, I take personal hygiene very seriously, I have beautiful manners, I hardly ever lie, I’ve never cheated, and I have no bad feelings towards any races (even the fricking Irish).)

So Tinder it is. And tonight is my first Tinder date.

I’m impressed already as he’s booked a table for cocktails at a nice bar in East London. Oh, and he’s not Irish.

Paws crossed.

Irish Three, Part Two

24 Mar

Text message received the day after the date:

“Hey. Just slept on this…I’m probably being naïve about inter-web dating but I guess I wanted a little more chemistry. It kinda felt like we were good mates rather than on a date. Sorry for being crap. I did really enjoy meeting you. X”

No problem at all, Irish Three.

I’m inclined to agree.

And thank you for the drinks and dinner.

Irish Three

23 Mar


Last night I went out with Irish Three.

I wasn’t over-excited. But I did have a suspicion that he’s my future husband (mainly based on the fact that a fortune teller told me I would marry someone tall, and he’s tall).

He picked a cocktail bar not too far from where I live. Which was great because I love this cocktail bar, and he lives wayyyy on the other side of London. I was flattered that he made the effort to come in my direction.

And we had a really nice night. We talked non-stop. We laughed a lot. He’s a really good-looking guy. Nice manners. We went on to dinner. He was super polite and insisted on paying for everything – a far cry from the wiley ways of dear old Irish Two.

Then, I suggested that we grab one last drink. It was 11.45 by this point. We got into the bar, and he suddenly decided he had to run to get the last tube home. Fair enough. I didn’t take it as a great sign. Walked him over to the tube, said an awkward but friendly goodbye. No kissing. He asked me to text and let him know that I got home OK. (Again, not the kind of thing Irish Two would have worried about.)

So there I was, on the 56 bus at midnight, slightly drunk, listening to Taylor Swift, and thinking over the evening. I definitely like Irish Three. I definitely wanted to see him again. But I also wasn’t sure I felt that crazy spark. You know the one. Ahhh, The one I felt with my ex (Irish One). Irish Three called me beautiful and cute while we were out, so I at least didn’t think he considered me hideous.

Irish Three had talked a lot about how he’d never done online dating before and I was his first online date. So I figured I would take the lead. When I got home, I texted and said, “That’s me home safe and sound. Thanks for such a lovely evening, I had a lot of fun. Since you’re new to online dating, I’ll take the lead and say that I’d love to buy YOU dinner if you’d like to do it again. X”.

Hours later I got a response.

“I had a really nice night too. X”

WTF is that supposed to mean?

I won’t be replying to Irish Three.

He now strikes me as someone who would take his sweet time buying a ring.

Third time lucky?

19 Mar

I’m off to Paris in the morning. It’s been a crazy busy week.

But just thought I’d let you guys know that I’m going on a date this Saturday.

With Irish Three.

I have proof that eHarmony is a nonsense

14 Mar


eHarmony continues to fail me.

First, it matches me with Irish One, who led me to believe we would get married and live happily ever after. He made me the happiest that I’ve been in my life. He made me a part of his family. And then he ate half a pizza and told me he had never been in love with me. Thanks, Irish One. Thanks, eHarmony.

Then, it matched me with Irish Two. Irish Two and I are destined to be friends. He made me laugh, he was good in bed, but – alas – we are not a “match” by any stretch of the imagination. I’m a sensitive soul who loves to be close to people. He’s a hardened, unaffectionate cat who can’t get close to people. Thanks again, eHarmony.

Last night eHarmony matched me with one of my best friends. I have known Tristan for eight years. He is one of my favourite cats. We have worked together. We have been drunken together. We have put together a business plan together. In fact, I wrote the best part of his eHarmony profile and I am cut out of two of the photos he uses in it. If we were destined to be together, we would be. I know Tristan extremely well and I can say with confidence that we would make a terrible couple. Simply awful. Thanks for making me have weird thoughts about one of my best mates, eHarmony.

This all leads me to believe that eHarmony is, basically, bullsh**.

I feel overwhelmed with anxiety for all the couples out there – all the millions and millions of happily married people (if we are to believe the advertising) who eHarmony has “matched” through science and algorithms and stuff. I fear their relationships are all built on lies and silicone valley start-up dreams.

I think it’s time to trust my guts. Not a website with extremely poor architecture and user experience.

eHarmony, I am so angry at you right now.

That is all.

I love him, I love him not

11 Mar


It’s a funny feeling having ended things with Irish Two.

I feel sad. I feel happy. I feel lonely. I feel free. I feel contented. I feel miserable. I feel empty. I feel confused. I feel rejected. I feel lucky. I feel unlucky.

I feel like I am finally over my ex.

I feel like I am still in love with my ex.

No, I’m over him.

I mean, I still love him.

No, no, no, I am over him.


Not ideal, but at least an improvement on a few months ago when all I had was I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I WISH I WAS DEAD AND I LOVE HIM.

I guess things are getting easier.

But the real test isn’t whether I love him. It’s how I feel when I reconsider the very disturbing fact that he doesn’t love me.

I don’t think that will ever stop hurting.


10 Mar


I know it was necessary for Irish Two and me to stop the nonsense.

But I have nobody to email or text or whatsapp with while I’m at work.

I’m lonely and bored.