Date #6

Preamble : When you send an introduction email to someone online, it's very rare that you start off discussing Scandinavian knitwear. Or more specifically, knitwear from certain BBC4 dramas. But it garnered a response, so perhaps I might try that one again.

Her loves seemed to be dour Euro dramas played out at a snail pace, mine, well I dipped in here and there, but the conversation started off on knitwear then moved onto TV. And there is stuck. It was strange.

I had a week's holiday and she also went away, not with me I hasten to add. But prior to our respective holidays we agreed to meet up after exchanging a series of telly themed emails.

Now I wasn't expecting anything of the evening beyond talking telly. How wrong I was. We touched on music, politics (a first for a first date I think), our respective careers, what was wrong with London's housing market, travelling in SE Asia, in particular Vietnam. But not once did we talk about relationships. Her fault or mine? I guess both. Do you normally not talk about such things or is it best to lay them out in the open at the first meeting? Let's face it it's nice to know if there's a ex lurking in the background ready to kill me. Plus being divorced, it usually prompts the question 'why no kids?'. Perhaps we were given a different script for the evening but it was really a pleasant evening, conversation wasn't difficult but there was no flirtatious comments at all. Like being out with my sister.

One curious thing I read a while back about dating is that if you stare at a woman's mouth when she's talking it apparently is sexually suggestive. No idea why, but this lovely lady had what appeared to be half her molars missing so when she spoke I couldn't help but stare. Anyway it didn't lead to anything sexually.

Location : Clapham - it's years since I've been there and couldn't believe the new station entrance. Anyway, a bar called the Bridge with an utterly crap food menu highlighted by the veggie salad having ham in it.

Stats : 38, lived in SE London and was English! A rare one at that. My first English date I think during this 'trial'.

Weird factor : Fairly low. Normal. Normal.

Wife skills : Home owner, career driven, maybe too much of a solo life but didn't pick up warmth, so lets say low.

Snog factor : With those teeth??????

Going Dutch : ££ Split the bill 50/50

After effects : Lovely, normal and won't be seeing again. Not even to discuss the next series of Borgen. Scandi knitwear is still cool.

Date #5

Sadly, the date planned for last evening was cancelled (by her) at the last minute. Don't you just love it when that happens?

Anyway, tomorrow I'm having a week's well earned holiday, so unless I meet up with someone next week, expect an update on my return.

Also, lots of visitors, and comments are welcome if you wish.

Mr Lighterside

Date #4

Preamble : Not much preamble to this one. No funny stories on wrong numbers exchanged. Just a straight forward chat on OK Cupid over a couple of weeks which led to us arranging a night out. Date #4 had reservations on meeting given that the previous encounter she agreed to the chap in question asked her to have sex. Probably not what she was looking for on a first date. Well a man's got to ask I guess. But given the lack of excitement or slow build up I wasn't expecting a great deal from tonight's date.

Location : So we're all taking advantage of the 'heatwave' in London and the scramble for outdoor drinking is always limited. That is unless you like standing outside the pub with the smokers. So I carefully selected the terrace bar at Somerset House. Never overly packed from my two previous visits many years ago and found seats quite comfortably. There was however a gig on, and she did think on arrival I was going to be taking her to the gig. She was quite disappointed when I said no.

Stats : 37, Italian, 5ft 10. Identical to the profile

Talking points :We concluded prior to our meeting that our astrological star signs were not suitable... (did I just mention jumped up superstition?)  In fact I can concur that my ex and step father were never the easiest people to get on with. I think I should state that I don't believe in astrology in any capacity whatsoever, however (there's always a however), can anyone explain why I've been attracted in the past to 3 girls who all shared the same birthday? Anyway, we got on. A couple of overpriced Pimms and a stroll on the south bank as the sunset over Waterloo Bridge (cue song) the even ended 3 hours after it started. No drama, no low points, no chemistry. What is chemistry? If I could explain a cliche I would.

Wife skills : Medium level. Mentioned the word 'family' once in the conversation and preferred food to be made for her. Or delivered. But on mentioning vegetarians, she did decry 'they're the worst kind of people'. Genius.

Weird factor : Low. Lovely, chatty if a little bit indie. She does however still by vinyl and doesn't own a record player.

Snog factor : 7/10 There was a moment when I thought I'd go for a lunge when we were on the south bank. I resisted. Although the end of the evening was abrupt to say the least. Not that was hankering after a snog, but it was one of those 'what do i do now' moments.

Going Dutch : £ - two drinks each, rounds shared.

After effects : Exchanged a few texts/messages afterwards, and I expressed a positive view, but I guess it's a case of wait and see. But deep down I don't think anything else will happen.

Date #3

Now I was hesitant to include this, mainly because it didn't go ahead. But since it was going to be a date I decided to include it. Not everything goes as smoothly as we hope after all.

Preamble : Date #3 I met online last summer when I first started trying to date again after the marriage had failed. I have to say my heart really wasn't in it, but Date #3 caught my eye and we exchanged some polite emails which ultimately led to nothing as she deleted her profile. Some months later she reappeared and we struck up conversation again, although she didn't remember me. Never a good start.

Shortly before Christmas, I had loads of holiday to take so took random Friday afternoons off and made arrangements to meet on one of those. We chose to meet at Charring Cross station as it was convenient for us both and set about finding somewhere for lunch. The afternoon passed quickly and we got on really well, although she was slightly 'different' (see weird factor below). Towards the end of the lunch and several glasses of wine later, she just came out with 'can I see you again?' and knowing that I can never say no, I said yes. We parted company and as we did so she stood on tip toes and planted a kiss on my lips and said thank you.

The following Friday I suggested we meet again for lunch, this time close to my home (she's self employed hence her flexibility in regards to daytime meetings, although she has an aversion to meeting after 5pm too). The weather was abysmal and given that we planned to walk, this was replaced by more drinks in the pub. After several hours I dropped her off at the tube, shared a few polite kisses, not snogs and she was on her way for Christmas.

I knew now that this wasn't going to work, mainly because of the unorthodox personality, work hours, interests, well basically everything. I explained over email in the coming days my feelings and it was all cool. Fast forward 5 months and we planned (and aborted) several meetings and finally agreed that we would meet yesterday. Just as friends I guess, although I did feel that she was still keen for something to develop. Second chance? Maybe.

So last week we arranged to meet in Greenwich on Saturday for lunch, I proposed 2pm but had to meet a friend at 6pm in Pimlico, so hopefully 3-4 hours would be more than enough. She replied that it felt that she was being 'booked in by the hour', well my email did have an air of that (defence, I was replying to her email on my iPhone and my emails are always short/curt). Anyway, she cancelled, I apologised (like you do for email mistranslations) and then she said how about 12:30 and I agreed. Then on Friday evening, I receive a mail around 7pm saying that she would be arriving now at 11:30 to which I replied I'm still getting there for 12:30. She called me insensitive (??!!). After that I said it was best that she go alone. So that was that.

Location : Would have been Greenwich

Stats : In age terms she's 37, in looks she looks 21. If there is a secret to eternal beauty, she has it. But her mental age was much younger I thought. I mean, she has a blog. What kind of grown up adult would have a blog? Er....

Weird factor : High. Alarm bell rigging high. Her hours of operation seem to be 4am to 5pm. Anything outside of this she's not interested. She mailed me last week to say she was off to bed at 6pm as it had been a lovely day and wanted to dream about it as soon as possible. This heatwave is obviously affecting her.

Wife skills : 0/10 Lost in her own world, a world that is so different from the norm. Whilst she told me she'd had relationships in the past, I got the impression they were fantasies rather than emotional ties.

Snog factor : 3/10 OK, yes I did share a gentle kiss, but that was more of a goodbye-your-off-to-waitrose type of kiss. Although she's attractive and very petite plus looks incredible for her age, there is something 'different' about her appearance that kind of puts you off. 

Going Dutch : ££/££ Two previous occasions I picked up the tab for lunch and drinks. Mainly on account that she doesn't seem to have a job despite the claim of being self employed.

After effects : Steering clear I think. What I thought could be a friendship rather than a potential mother of my children is never going to happen. And as for friendship, I'll pass on that too.

Date #2

For those eagle eyed readers, dates #1 and #2 are published on the same day, I'm just playing catch up as this date took place a week last Thursday. I'll try to keep things to schedule in future. Promise.

Preamble : Day 4 of being on Match and I have a new favourite. For those who consider online dating a mystery, adding someone as a favourite usually translates as 'can't be arsed to initiate contact I'll let them do it instead'. Anyway, she selected me out of the 1000s online as possibly the one for her. Maybe. Now normally, being mid 40s that I am, I tend to receive winks, forward talking emails and favourites from ladies ranging from 50-70 in years. I obviously tick the right boxes for lady OAPs, so anyone dating me might have to fight off their mothers. 

So one of those rare occurrences happened, #2 was attractive, 39 years old and came across as really positive and happy in her profile and photos. I sent her a note on Sunday evening (date #1 a distant memory from the night before) to which she replied almost instantly. Yep, I was hooked and she too by the sound of it. Exchanging messages can be a dull affair at times but sometimes you just hit it off as you're on the same wavelength. After a couple of notes, I told her I was off to watch The Returned and that was far more important than our fledgling relationship. She saw the funny side thankfully and we carried on chatting during the ad breaks. Romance dead? Never! 

After a couple of days of chatting online I asked her for a drink the following Thursday. Accepted, I gave her my number. Great, now time to play it cool, slow down on the mail to keep it fresh on Thursday. 

Thursday came. We had agreed to meet in Soho but would decide on the day where exactly and so waited for her to call. Nothing. I waited. 4pm and I thought I would log on to check any messages. Nothing. Just as I was about to pen an email, I just wanted to check something, the number I gave. Bugger. A digit switch, so no wonder I'd heard nothing. I wrote an apologetic email in the hope she would pick it up realising that I'd not replied to her text (I just knew she would have texted, confident, moi?). I waited. And waited. 

It got to 6pm and I thought that's it, blown my chances. I decided, given that work was done for the day I'd walk over to Soho anyway, not because there was an off chance of bumping into her, but hopefully give her some time to realise what a dick I'd been. No sooner had I left the office, a text arrives. Touchdown, we were now in communication (realtime) and a destination agreed. At this point I must say that I probably skipped the distance to Soho as I was feeling such a dick for messing up the numbers. As a side point, many years before I did the same with my ex wife when we exchanged numbers and look how that ended up.

Location : Soho, al fresco (I got lucky and asked for a table to be moved outside). The  bar was busy on account of the fine weather, so I ordered a bottle of white. I had a lot a of making up to do and wine is always perfect for that.

Stats : Interior designer, 39 which transpired to be 40 later in the evening. I didn't know we were celebrating her birthday but what's a little white internet lie to friends?

Weird factor : Very low. Looked like her profile and wore a lovely leather jacket.  Conversation was flowing and post bottle of wine, we moved onto food nearby. Cocktails followed. Nothing to dislike at all.

Wife skills : 7/10 Whilst not producing a list of possible reception venues, the interior design element gave me a feeling of home maker. And a nice home at that.

Snog factor : 10/10 After cocktails, between courses whilst we were asking varying degrees of random questions, alcohol bravado kicked in and I asked whether she fancied a snog, to which she said yes, but not here. Needless to say I leaned forward and kissed her, but not full on as that would be rather teenager like. Several more kisses were exchanged post dinner, but nothing that could be described as full on tongue ticklers.

Going Dutch : ££££ - I picked up the wine at the bar to make up for the earlier errors and we split dinner. There was no quibble and I didn't really try to be a gentleman. Probably a mistake given that I was smitten and should have gone out for the impress factor.

After effects : The following morning's hangover prompted a text exchange of comparable symptoms. Just one or two. The latter was only replied to the following day. I must confess I don't play games and certainly don't conform to rules regarding dating. If I like someone, I tell them or definitely don't go silent. What is the point? Anyway, the texting became stilted. 24 hr responses are not for me. So when Sunday evening's text from me was not replied to I realised that she wasn't interested. Now I'm not one to give up on things I like. Remember the wise Cheryl Cole song, 'fight for your love'... er... right. So I've not heard anything and it's been a week. I know she was planning a a break to Spain and there were work commitments, but it looks like I've crashed and burned with this one. Kind of glad I went dutch now. Tight arse that I am.

Date #1

Preamble : Two days after joining Match.com, I exchanged several short emails to #1, nothing too electrifying, but after all it's normally down to the male to supply the funny. A Friday late one at work beckoned and to distract myself from the tedium I was sending messages to #1 throughout the day and into the early evening. She knew where I lived and suggested I pop round to Chelsea Harbour as it was (not quite) on the way home for me and she could probably keep her slippers on. Never one to turn down a date I, well I turned it down. The air-con in work knocks off at 7pm and I was already in need of a full spa weekend let alone a shower. I was hesitant, but had to say no, but suggested tomorrow. She replied positively and agreed.

Location : Chelsea Harbour (despite living in London 15 years I'd never set foot and was pleasantly surprised. It was a lovely warm summer's evening (remember them?) so opted for the light trousers, linen shirt and loafers. It was Chelsea after all.

Stats : Nationality on website - English, nationality in reality, Bulgarian. I must confess that I kind of worked that out from her photos. Well worked out that she wasn't from these shores at least, but a pleasant surprise as I'd never met anyone from there before. 

Talking points : Very little. It was my first date in several months and whilst I'm quite talkative and was obviously asking lots of questions about her background, work (no idea what she does, although she did try to explain it was lost on me) I never got the impression that she was interested in me. No probing questions, just mirrored responses to what I asked her in most cases. Highlight and one of the reasons why we chose that particular location is because she was bringing her dog. Yes it was cute, but I'm a bloke and need a low cut top or short skirt to win me over…. joke! But pets don't win prizes for me despite it's cuteness.

Wife skills : Very little on display. Not a single mention of desiring motherhood or extolling the virtues of making homemade pickled eggs. One issue I did have was her lack of control of her dog who just wandered everywhere. What would she be like with children I thought?

Weird factor : Low. Perfectly normal in appearance and didn't announce any passions for Star Wars or Emerdale.

Snog factor : 5/10

Going Dutch : ££ - picked up by me. But I did have a lot more of the wine.

After effects : Very little. Sent a message online a few days after the date suggesting another drink, but that's all it would be. Not that worked up over uncorking the 'you must come over for dinner' line. That's mainly down to the fact she'd probably bring the dog and the hair would cover the new sofa. The dog's hair, not hers. She did have nice hair though, her not the dog.

Intro

This is not a new idea, in fact it's an old idea. Around 8 years ago I blogged about my dating experiences and encounters and during the process I actually met someone, and married her. The whole blogging about dating experience at the time was fairly new and there weren't many around to compare against. I don't actually think mine was well written at all, it was more of a diary of dates, rather than a funny informative blog. Today that's changed and there dozens of them. And some are brilliant and will be difficult to beat.

I got reading the very funny, if slightly dark at times 52 First Dates which lead me to 28 Dates Later, both well written blogs, entertaining and funny, but I couldn't help they were both just experiments and both writers were just laying out their respective challenges and neither actually wanted to find love, but just catalogue the colourful people they met. And there are some very colourful people out there. They were open about their reasons for dating to their dates, i.e. they were just going to write about them. Whether this would make them a challenge I have no idea, but neither appeared to find love (so far) but had fun along the way in reaching their respective targets.

And so to me. Well, I'm 46, once married now happily divorced. Having been single for 18months I've been on quite a few dates but haven't written about them so far, so inspired by the above blogs I decided it was time to put pen to paper. I'm not looking to meet 'colourful' people who have strange fetishes, so hopefully you won't hear tales of how she brought me back to her vampire den and ate live bats, but you never know. One thing that I will write about is the normal everyday folk that live in this fair city and the typical dating rituals that we all seem to go through in order to meet a partner to share Sunday morning Cappuccinos and glossy Sunday supplements.

Wish me luck!