DATE EXPECTATIONS

I’ve turned into that person where you see someone you haven’t seen for a while and they say to their friends “this is Katie, she is STILL single despite being amazing, she has the BEST, most magical dating tales!” Except, they don’t say it like that and it’s more like “hahaha her dating life is a joke ! A literal joke!” Well, fine. Here you are – a tale of my most recent dating woes. Read them and weep.

 

WHERE: Tooting Bec Lido

WHO: Someone I met on Bumble

EXPECTATION: I would waft along, we’d meet outside and exchange our hellos. Wandering inside, we’d look for the lushest green spot and spread out our towels, both sneakily eyeing each other up. We’d sit down, he had brought an M&S picnic because he guessed I prefer their hummus and I was waxed within an inch of my life and wearing the kind of make up where the sun looks like it’s snogged you all over. We’d take a little dip, splashing each other playfully and the day would end hazily chatting away and wondering what each other looked like naked.

REALITY: I was an hour late so I had to get an uber there which cost me £22. I arrived very flustered and we met in the car park. I didn’t have to wonder what he looked like naked, because he turned up just in his swimming shorts. I paid for us to get in – which is fine because it is 2017, but I feel like he lied about having no cash – and we then had to find a tiny patch of grass, that didn’t have other people’s limbs on it. After a few minutes of catching up, we both got in the pool awkwardly and sort of doggy paddled around trying to get through the first hour of, what I felt, personal hell. I then proceeded to get sunburn and by the time he’d finished his tenth most boring question, the sun got to me and unfortunately I fell asleep. Upon waking, he was leaning over me and staring at my, quite frankly, amazing body. He told me he was watching to see how my sunburn was getting on. I made my excuses and started to leave but he said he was going the same way and insisted on sharing an uber. As we got in, it sped off and ultimately crashed into a cyclist. I think, a sign as to how the date went overall.

WHERE: Angel

WHO: An old school friend of a friend, we met on Bumble but I had it on good authority he was ‘legit’

EXPECTATION: We had a friend of a friend in common so when we met up we would instantly burst into conversational somersaults like Michael Phelps at the Olympics and it turns out my hairdressers best friend is his mum’s sisters dog?! What a coincidence. We would have a couple of drinks, until it got to a sensible hour and me being all aloof would say “I have to catch a flight tomorrow so I have to head home but it was lovely to meet you and let’s do dinner next week?” Then I would go home, butterflies in my stomach and before I went to bed, I would think to myself that that was the best I’ve looked all month.

REALITY: That day I had been shopping with my mum, and I spent the last three hours of our time together feeling so anxious that I was actively rude to her and really snappy, which I will regret until my dying days. I got there late, because I had panicked about being on time – plus, I’m never on time – so I was sweating and it turns out it was just like the Olympic pool because he told me I was “quite sweaty, have you just been exercising?” Which I should’ve taken as the first signal to him being an INDECENT PERSON. But, as any other single gal knows, determination is key. I had probably what was one drink too many, until it got to 11pm and I realised I hadn’t eaten and suddenly became Very Scared. He agreed he was also hungry so we went to Chicken Liquor really drunk and I dipped my new white sleeves into hot sauce and he said he liked that about me. He also told me that I was so beautiful he was a bit speechless. It turns out that was true because he never got in touch again.

WHERE: Brixton

WHO: Someone I had met on Bumble

EXPECTATION: Our first date went well but both of us had major work and travel commitments, plus he was out saving orphans most of the time. At our wedding someone would do the part of the speech where I start to cry, slowly but softly and say “I just…I just thank God everyday that I bumped into him again on the northern line to Angel and it feels truly like a miracle – thank you all for coming to celebrate in it”.

REALITY: The first date did go well. But afterwards, I cancelled on him to go to a gig with my friends and then after that I cancelled on him again to go home and hang out with my dogs. Obviously, he didn’t get in touch after that. Until the Sunday Night Plea came around, SIX MONTHS LATER, where it was obvious he was feeling lonely, and obviously I was too because I agreed. Plus I was hanging out with my dogs and parents again at the time. We had fun – but the kind of fun where you’re like well this is more fun than say, eating pizza out of the bin again but less fun than say, a fun night out where you actually have Fun. When the bill came for the food, I realised I had lost my debit card and we spent the next two hours trawling the streets for it. I told him I was going to look at the tube station and he said “Haha, don’t run away!” and I did what I can only imagine to be a very theatrical fake laugh and replied “HAHAHAHAAHHAH no way!” when really that was kind of what I wanted to do. But in actual fact, he was easy to be around and he had a nice face. So I stuck around. It had been handed in to the Underground People, so relieved off we went to a bar. It was fully packed, with live music. Upon entry, he said something into my ear. I didn’t hear him, so spent the next three minutes doing the “what?….what?” back and forth. Until, suddenly, as if from a scene of a disaster film, the music all stopped at once. And he shouted “I BET EVERYONE IN HERE IS WONDERING “WHAT IS SHE DOING WITH HIM?!”. As was I, as I said a swift goodbye to the blood in any of my limbs and wondered why I was in fact there with him, and not being immediately air-lifted to a hospital.

If any more happen to me, I’ll post them here. I do have one more, but it’s Not Fit For Print. Until I start a blog that isn’t called my name, has a giant picture of my face, and shared on social media by Me.

 

 

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One comment

  1. Jessica · · Reply

    Yes. Katiestalkertalks is BACK in my life. Thanks for being you.

    Like

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