As I arrived his clear relief that I had actually turned up was evident, as was the empty bottle of wine that sat on the table next to the other half-drunken bottle – sitting down and eyeing up the pre-poured glass of wine, that sat just millimeters away.
I had to endure 20 painfully un-interesting facts about wine thrown at me before I was even allowed a sip! – I have never lusted after an alcoholic beverage so much in my life!
I then watched in repulsion as he practically downed the next bottle of wine (I barely had a few sips of my own glass and I’m pretty sure by his slurring that this was his 3rd bottle) and that’s when it dawned on me – is this how I come across after I’ve consumed a substantial amount of wine? A woman drunk on wine (if anything like me) is not a pretty sight! – but a man drunk on wine is just a whole other level that I have never experienced, nor ever want to again. (more…)
Over the past 2 years of being single – The first part was spent hibernating away from men, crying into wine glasses and rubbing my mascara smeared face all over my pillows. Yes, I pretty much rocked that post break up look!
The second part was when I wiped off those panda eye’s, threw on some heels and dramatically catapulted myself back into the world dating and what an experience it has been…From cringy dates to emotionally unstable men, there is one main thing I have learnt:
After weeks of texting and his endless stream of Snapchat selfies (a little vain perhaps, but at least I know he looks like his pictures and that is HOT!)
Squeezing into my Sandy from Grease trousers and a belly full of nerves, I jump on the tube and venture across the river to Camden, North London.
I spot my date in the distance – it is hard not too, when he is that fit! – gliding along ‘on Cloud 9’ and beaming from ear to ear, I suddenly feel an almighty crash… is my heel caught in the pavement? No it’s reality smashing me in the knee caps!
It’s been a while since my last post, mainly due to the chaos of moving into my new flat and partially as I thought it was a good time to give myself a break from the dating world – seeing as all of my tinder dates have been rapidly escalating from bad to excruciatingly awful. The odds have not been in my favour!
It wasn’t until I was standing at the microwave meal Deals for One section in Tesco, alongside all the other singletons, that I had an epiphany – upon catching my reflection in the glass of the frozen food I had a vision of myself in 30 years’ time…
Wrapped in knitwear, with scraggily, un-brushed hair and cats climbing all over me whilst I stirred a massive pot of soup. I would become that strange, old, spinster lady that smells of a mixture of chicken soup and cat piss – who all the local children are convinced is a witch and just throw stones at her windows.
Shrieking in horror at my future self I ran home, threw all my soup in the bin, poured myself a glass of Prosecco and logged back in to tinder – ever the optimist!
Drooling as this bronzed Adonis walks through the bar – parting the hoards of women like Moses parting the seas – Oh My God this is my date and he is fitter than his pictures!
I can barely lift my jaw off the floor as he comes striding towards me with such perfectly chiselled features – he would be much more suited to a billboard (preferably one where he’s only wearing boxers!) than this bar. (more…)
Standing outside in the blistering wind and losing control of one contact lens – to the point that I am squinting so much that I now resemble a one-eyed pirate – is not a good look when attempting to find my date! (more…)
Being the Queen of misinterpreting signals (much to my own humiliation). I have come face to face with rejection more times than I care to remember. So, Here are my top tips on what to do next… (more…)
After losing track of who I was talking to, I had agreed to go on a date, only to realise 10 seconds later that I had replied to the wrong guy – I had now committed myself to a date with a man who looked alarmingly like a hamster? (more…)
Having spent the evening with my favourite bosom buddy ‘Blossom Hill’ and losing myself in a full blown Bridget Jones marathon (which naturally resulted in a slight white wine melt down as I evaluated my life), I came to the conclusion that I was slowly becoming Miss B Jones herself or at the very least a version of! (more…)