Mr #37 - Dinky Dollars

The preamble:
I'd been messaging and texting Mr #37 pretty regularly for a month or so now, and he really piqued my curiosity. He was a man who worked for the big bucks, but in his spare time loves to cook, collect art and do work for charity. He had a good sense of humour on paper, didn't even attempt that irksome text speak,  wrote well and sounded like an all round good egg, so I was all too happy to meet him for a beverage or two.

The man:
Age: 34

Profession: Investment broker

Random factoid: Has a phenomenally mixed heritage of English, Italian, Tunisian, Maltese, Sicilian and Spanish.

The date:
This was one of the rare dates where he chose the venue, which was rather lovely since I've been running a little short of ideas of venues of places where the staff wouldn't start to suspect I was some sort of serial dater (which of course I seem to have become...). He chose a posh-sounding wine and cocktail bar on Brick Lane which on first glance looked like an excellent choice. I was the first to arrive, and whilst I perched at the bar trying not to look like I was meeting a stranger from t'internet I realised that actually it was a bit of a misguided choice of venue, given that the football was on on mahoosive screens all around the outside of the bar, and the place was starting to fill up with Manchester City fans. Lovely. Ten minutes later, my date arrived. I knew he wasn't very tall, as he'd put 5' 5" on his profile. But I thought that a gentleman of his size would be honest about his height. Turns out, he'd fibbed a little. As he walked through the door, I was struck by how petite he was, and thought he was a good couple of metres further away than he actually was. When I stood up to meet him, he was a good inch shorter than me, making him over-ambitious by a good 4 inches. It still baffles me why men lie about their height, it's not as if I'd never find out! Anyway he was nice-looking, well-turned out, polite and rather chipper, so we got cracking with the date. We covered all sorts of topics, his art collecting, archaeology, his  roots, museums, that time he ate too much meat in America and ended up with gut rot (nice!), writing novels, films, pedigree cats, chocolate and kids theme tunes (a topic which seems to crop up on many a date - I think I may be trapped in my 9-year-old self sometimes). Mr #37 was quite a character - he had a myriad of interests, and archaeology was a big one, to the point that once a year he goes mud-larking (google it, I had to...) and has his own metal detector which he uses to find old bits of Roman gold. He also recently spent £500 on a giant fossil for his flat, would regularly spend £100 a week on an obscenely posh box of chocolates , owned a very expensive coffee machine and was starting up his own investment business. Money, it seemed, was a big trump card for Mr #37 which I have to say I found very bit off-putting, more so than the fact that he let it slip he was both newly-divorced and a dad (funny how this all comes out on dates and people forget to include on their profiles and in the preamble). On reflection, he spoke about himself a lot, and told me that he was writing his own autobiography because he thought he had a really interesting life, which did leave me wondering if all of his interests were manufactured just for the purpose of bolstering the biog. I also couldn't help noticing how he kept flitting his eye line between the football on the television and my chest. Note to self - don't wear this dress on dates again. A few drinks later, we were both showing signs of weariness and mutually agreed to call it an evening.

Memorable Quotes:
'When I was in New York I had a tongue sandwich, have you tasted tongue before?' Stop it! Too. Many. Jokes.

'I used to want to be Indiana Jones when I was little. I used to bury all my toys in the garden'

'Yeah, girls do like sparkly things don't they?' Yeah, me and glitter...such a girl, I LOVE that shit...

'Your dad used to fly Tornadoes in the RAF? He's my hero, I'd love to meet him...' Uh oh, flashback to Mr #18...

Events of note:

Mr #37 trying to explain what hedge funds ACTUALLY are. To the most financially inept person on the planet. I'll be honest, it didn't go well, and I'm still none the wiser. It's still people selling invisible shit to me...

The Verdict:

He was shorter than me, skinnier than me by half, and had smaller hands than me. On physicality alone, I couldn't really fancy him as he did make me feel like the Miranda Hart to his Frankie Dettori. Actually, he could have been Frankie on looks alone. Mr #37 was a really interesting guy, and really liked the fact he had so many interesting things to talk about (bar the finance crap). But the fact that he held money in such high regard was the real deal-breaker here, and literally every anecdote did boil down to dosh in some way. I'm not looking for someone with a shed load of cash stuffed under the mattress to buy me great big sparkly thing, nor someone whose sole purpose in life is to earn money. All in all, it was an entertaining evening, but we didn't have a tremendous amount in common even though we found common ground to talk about, and as much as I'm not sure I want to see him again, I think he probably feels the same.

...although my tits are expecting a text any minute now...

Date #36 - as told by Mr #36 himself

In case you’ve not read my write up of Mr #36, I think perhaps you should get up to speed first right here. As Mr #36 and I walked to the pub before  the date we chatted about 52 First Dates,  and I offered him the chance to write his review of how the date went.

 This is what he said...

 Unedited...

 ‘I want to start by saying that "You should see my pigeon fanciers film" is a tried and tested line, it's melted the heart of many a date in the past.  Granted the anecdote about swinging a toddler into a tree was a bit of a Hell Mary and the awkward silence that followed has led me to reject it from my future repertoire.

With that out of the way I should go onto the meat of the evening which on the whole was good.  CTS is fun, smart and noticeably weary 36 dates into her experiment although that could have been a reaction to my hulking appearance. The night began awkwardly, in part due to the speed in which it came about but also because I was distinctly aware that my terrible banter would be scrutinised and in a very public way.  Despite that I was determined to act no differently to how I would on a genuine date, despite the numerous slaps, glassed over expressions and restraining orders it's provoked in the past.  You know that on first dates first impressions count and this is where I think I fell down. I wasn't expecting to meet anyone that evening so was dressed as a dishevelled hipster farmer, an olive green burlap sack of potatoes tottering on a pair of burgundy chinos and black brogues.

 After my awkward introduction we headed to the pub and the evening was pleasant, right up until the text. Lots of topics were covered a good few laughs shared and I felt it was going ok.  When I read the message I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, (not that she didn't fancy me, I'm an acquired taste, think Sloth from the goonies with a touch of Vince Vaughn), but because she couldn't wait until after the night had ended to crystallise her opinion of me and tell my mate.  Like CTS said I was expecting to be critiqued but not at that very moment.  It was a genuine mistake and one I can't be too sore about because it was at least a compliment (in part). What she did fail to include in her account of her reaction was what she said when I showed her the message, which I think was the most telling part of the entire evening. Having shown her the embarrassing error she responded by saying, "Well I guess you're lucky I wanted to stay this long." And this is where I think CTS's adventure is going to fall down, she is looking for that instant spark, that unrealistic staple of the American rom-com, the stars have to align and ideally shine in the eyes of her handsome romantic male lead (probably Ryan Gosling, he'd totally be my pick!). Her impatience to look past the confines of the dreaded first date, to see guys for who they grow to be instead of just that first ungainly encounter means sadly 52 first dates may never be enough. I say sadly because she is clearly an awesome catch (if you like parrots, Dominoes and jokey conversations about 85 year old holocaust survivors), and within a more traditional encounter the fact that she enjoyed my company could have led to her seeing me in a different light and a happier ending for all you good readers.’

I think we can probably all agree I got off lightly don’t you?

 However, I can’t really end this post without a little bit of justification from my part, as I’m sure many people out there will have been questioning the whole process and the fact that it’s so rare I meet someone I click with. I think we all know I was a Grade A goon for my texting antics on this particular date, and I know I’m not the only person in the world to have done such a thing. Let’s face, it, it could have been a LOT worse, if I had done so on pretty much all of my other dates. But that’s not the point. I suppose the point here is the questioning of my expectations from 52 First Dates. Don’t get me wrong, a date with Ryan Gosling would undoubtedly be the best thing to happen to me ever. But I doubt very much he’s lurking around dating sites looking for a small round brunette with a penchant for parrots and cupcakes...

When I started out on 52 First Dates, I did it to get over my pathological vomit-inducing  fear of first dates, which 36+ dates in I can safely say has worked. I also wanted to meet as many different people as I could to try and broaden my horizons and counteract the pickiness I’d previously had that led to me only ever accepting 2 dates a year. And as you can tell, I have also done just that *pats back*

One of my main dilemmas throughout the process has been leading my dates on. I think considering the volume of dates I go on, to see many more of them on more than one occasion ‘just in case’ will mean I’m on a date every night of the week which would not just be knackering and expensive, but more importantly that doesn’t feel very fair on these other dates who’d be investing more than one evening with me if I’m doing it ‘just to see’. I’m not here to toy with other people’s emotions, waste their time or get free meals. That’s just not cricket.

This experience is definitely making me learn more about myself than I ever expected. I do make a lot of poor choices (especially when I have to pick a date last minute) and a lot of mistakes (when I text the wrong person whilst actually on a date - eejit). But I’m only human. I am also learning more and more of what I’m looking for. I am neither naive nor sappily romantic enough to expect a thunderbolt love-at-first-sight experience on a first date, but what I would like is that small funny fizzy tingly feeling you get when you meet someone and there’s just something a little more there, something that just clicks and makes you want to dig that much deeper. I have experienced it in the past, and I hope I will experience it again.

 
Of course I would love my own happy ending, happy endings are ace (and I’m not talking in massage parlour terms). But this is real life, and I genuinely don’t know when or where it may come from, if at all. I’ve not found it yet, despite having met a fair few unexpectedly nice guys that haven’t quite worked out, but rest assured, I won’t be giving up until I do. 52 First Dates has become such a big part of my life now, I can’t just let it go for just anyone. But for the right person, I will want to.