Award Giving Ceremony – Division: Blind Date Fails

My latest post has inspired me to think about past date flops and crown the king of date fails.

Bronze: If you had read my very first post, the name Crispin would be familiar to you. He and I had known each other for a while when he proposed to go out together for a drink. Granted, this could have been an innocent drink between work colleagues/friends, but it did turn out to be a date. There was offering of paying for the bill, flirting, taking me home to his place afterwards etc. Once home, he put on the seductive look and discreetly tried to convince me to join him in bed. Both a little drunk, we started to discuss exes, when he offered to watch the amateur sex video of him and his ex wife. Big fail. Poor girl.

Silver: About 2 years ago I met a a rather ruggedly handsome looking Arab man in front of a sales stand. We were both lured in by the promising wonder healing powers of dead sea products, trying hard to make an escape before losing every cent we own to them (their prices are sinfully steep!). Somewhere between the common notion of escape and the beautiful feeling of smooth, cleansed skin, he asked me on a date. Back then I was still very inexperienced and offered him to come back to my place for dinner after a few days of phone calls and text messaging. I had made a divine three course meal, including dessert. An hour before he was due to arrive at my place, he called to confirm we were still on (sweet) and something else. He asked whether I would like him to bring a very potent join and lubricant. Needless to say, I turned him down. The combination of a joint and lubricant had me wondering what he had planned for me that evening. This was supposed to be our first date!! Really, you couldn’t keep your fondness of anal sex a secret until date number two at least? FAIL.

Gold: (Taken from my latest post) About a week ago I met my soul mate at an online dating site, or so I thought. We arranged for a hurriedly planned date as we both could not wait to finally stare into each others eyes and romantically walk into the sunset together, hand in hand. The evening went well until the two-faced liar gentlemanly asked to be excused to be able to smoke a cigarette. I satisfyingly still chewed on my pizza 20 minutes later when my so-called soul mate went AWOL. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we have a runner. It seems he packed up his balls and, given the daytime, ran into the sunset all by his rude, cowardly self. To add insult to injury, I was stuck with the bill and the pitiful looks of waitors and guests alike. We therefore have a WINNER. Fail. Enough said, this will be the last time I waste a thought on him.

Blind Date Flop and the question, “Am I not cut out for love?”

Many days I feel okay about my single status and I just continue life as usual. Some days, like today, I am close to give up on the male species.
Why?

I have been hurt so many times, disappointed & humiliated, it is hard to even count these incidents.

Today was a first however. I met someone at an online dating site. Things went incredibly well. After many chat conversations with awkward and freaky people, I thought I had found my soul mate. We shared the same dreams, wishes and perspectives. He understood me and I understood him. We were so similar, it was eerie.

So we finally agreed to meet today. Boy, was I nervous. My first real date in months!! I took hours fixing my make up, trying on different outfits and painting my toe and fingernails. Ready for action.
Then we met, he was slightly late due to traffic but I didn’t mind. He didn’t exactly look how I imagined him. A little less hair, less groomed, and less attractive, I was instantly turned off by his lack of trying to impress me. Since we shared similar character traits, we got along well however. I gave up on this guy being a potential boyfriend but I was hoping for a pleasant evening, perhaps more, followed by a friendship. These were just a young girl’s silly fantasies.

After about an hour and a half he had to go for a smoke break. I ensured him he was excused, finishing my pizza and wondering what we will do next. Champagne on the beach (his idea) or something other? I was excited to go ahead with a great evening in his company.

Turns out, his smoke break was a lame excuse for an even lamer exit on his part. He just left, and didn’t return. After 30 minutes I left, to spare me more pitiful looks by the waitors and guests but most of all, to spare me more humiliation. The asshole left me high and dry with the bill.

Why? Why, why, why? The humiliation of a one night stand sans call back 3 weeks ago, the sight of my ex lover in the arms of a strange woman kissing her passionately, my friend with benefits smsing my sister to ask her for sex, and now this, all in the time frame of 2 weeks, it is too much. What the fuck am I doing wrong?

I am decent, smart, loyal and funny. Why do I get cheated on so much? I am starting to think it’s me. That I don’t deserve to be loved. My heart is broken once again.

I am starting to wonder why I keep on getting up, picking up the pieces and moving on to the next idiot with no heart. I thought they were all different, good guys, that I could be friends with or more. Turns out I was wrong.

Maybe I should just forget men and keep on leading my single life forever. Maybe I am just naive in thinking my Mr Right is somewhere out there… Other women seem to be able to tickle love and committment out of the proud owners of XY chromosomes, but I always seem to fail before a relationship has even begun. Is it possible I am not cut out for love?

Being the Second Choice

Single women like to spend time with their single girlfriends. We can gossip about male passer-bys, discuss potential crushes and council each other about our past heartbreaks, and feel understood. Our girlfriends are our no. 1 go-to-persons when there is no partner to consult with. And because we aren’t in a committed relationship, we firgure we can just date them. And so we go out together to movies, cocktails, small vacations, dinner etc, you name it.

A girl’s self worth is often closely linked to her feedback from the male world. We want to be desired, loved and needed, regardless whether we are single or not. But every so often when we date our girlfriends and come across male suitors, we find ourselves stuck in a particular predicament that is rivalry. I have been unlucky so far as to have girlfriends who are either noticeably less or noticeably more attractive than me. And either way you will have trouble, because one friend will always feel left out. Unfortunately, that was me last night.

 
Saturday night – the single biggest hope of any active single woman out there. Yes, we do meet men at work, online, or at gym. But the likelihood of hitting it off with one man out of the 300 you meet in one night, is quite high. And so we squeeze ourselves into our new dresses, those killer high heels, that make our legs look stunning, and put on make up to perfection. Why? Partly because it makes us feel good about ourselves, partly because we want those looks of admiration and positive commenting on our sleek, glossy hair. But mostly it is because we hope that Mr Right will find us so unbelievably irrestistable, he will sweep us off our feet and promise us a life of luxury and love (that last one might just be my motivation only).

Last night started off so great. I looked good, I felt good, I was in a positive mindset. I was ready for action. And so was my best friend, who is more like a sister to me than anything else, but resembles a bollywood princess, or Ms UAE. You get the picture. And so I was pushed to the background, standing in her shadow while she was living my dream of sifting through prospective hook ups. There was the occasional compliment, look, word or smile directed at me but mostly I felt like the second choice in a cruel, superficial world of city nightlife. She is tall, tanned, thin, has long legs, a carved face to perfection while I am short and pretty much her opposite in all these points. My self esteem received an almost-lethal hit and I was ready to give myself up. What added to this whole scenario was the sighting of an ex crush in the arms of a friend of mine and an ex lover in the throws of drunken face fucking with a bland anonymous stranger.

 
My night was tainted, the tears began to well and I started to curse myself for making the mistake of going out each time, even though I cannot handle the consequences. I seem to be too sensitive and somehow my brain cannot process the fact that men are out there to hunt women down on weekend nights. Mostly it doesn’t matter who they are, what they look like or what will happen after the time when the hypnotic flash lights are turned off. It’s the moment that counts, chasing the irresistible high. And yes, I have done it before and felt the ultimate high following this brief encounter. But after a while, emptiness forms in its place and its so crippling, it breaks my heart each time. Nights like these are like gym class all over again. The pretty ones are picked first, which leaves normal woman with a natural prettiness like me, empty-handed. My hopes of meeting a good guy where once again shattered.

Did I escape the club, crying, defeated, looking like a complete fool? No I didnt. Why? Because my best friend gave me a good piece of advice that helped me gather up enough self esteem to help me through the night. She said, she hates being hit on by multiple men, in whom she is not at all interested, and who all want her for the one thing only. So it’s not much different to what I am going through. She also reminded me that there are men out there, who like women that are young, old, big, thin, tall, short, tanned, white, funny, conservative, slutty or any combination of this. True, most men go for the obvious beauties mostly but their tastes differ. And she was so right. I know you cannot describe me as a Victoria Secrets’ model, but I do get the occasional interest from men, and for some of them I am the first choice.
Sometimes, like last night, I allow my doubts to overpower my rationality and start a vicious cycle of self-pity. For times like these it is beneficial to have a friend (sister) for whom you have and will always be the first choice…

Weekend in the City

The usual Saturday night of a single girl in a big city can be either breath-takingly exciting and fun, or it can just be the opposite, numbingly boring and unspectacular. Many-a-night we spend in the arms of a beautiful stranger, whom we met only hours earlier , to get a swiff of his expensive intoxicating perfume. Is it perfume? It could as well just be the “essence of man”! Nevertheless, on nights like these we drink ourselves silly, enjoying the hypnotic music blaring in our ears and the unfamiliar intimacy of said stranger. Usually, when the next morning arrives, with or without the unimportant chap in our bed, we sadly have to accept the fact that our night of excitement has come to an end and that our every day routine has returned when looking at the overly-full washing basket. What have we achieved? Nothing but a short escape from reality, which seems to have set in harder than usual. To add even more negativity to this picture, I have to say these comprise the better days of our weekends.
Of course, there is always another side of the coin. And so we spend more weekends than we would like to admit in the mildly comforting arms of our well-made up bed with expensive sheets. Granted, we sometimes need a well deserved rest after a long, hard week in the throws of bureaucracy that left us aching for our much needed but too far away holiday. But while our girlfriends enjoy relationship bliss with their partners, serving dinner, having saturday night sex, or sharing a laugh during a mutually pleasing movie, we hide ourselves in the thick folds of our blankets, not ready to face the cruel, lonely world out there. It is possible we regularly check our phone for a sign to the outside world. E-mails (usually bills!!), calls with the bff, facebook updates, the news, and if we are lucky, invitations from friends. Now, I am a person to jump at every opportunity to go out there and meet new people (after all, Mr Right could be among them). But there are times in a single girl’s life when she cannot bear the thought of strangers in her close proximity. This notion usually takes a hold on me during my period, when I am physically sick, or emotionally sick of men. This scenario might seem utterly depressing to an outsider, and in all honesty, it sometimes is (movies such as One Day with Anne Hathaway or The Notebook with Ryan Gosling help to alleviate the effects however).

But there is an upside to the single girl’s weekend. While our coupled up friends are practically forced to be with their partner, we get to choose with whom we would like to spend our precious free time. Don’t get me wrong – I am not saying that a relationship is a suffocating institution. Of course you WANT to spend time with your significant other. At least most of the time. But there are also times, such as in the case of my older sister Em, when you’ve had a mild marriage crisis only days earlier and despise the fact that you will have to see this person, for whom you harbour unresolved feelings of anger, the entire weekend, when you would actually just like to be alone. So yes, it is my weekend and I am laying in bed longer than necessary, enjoying breakfast in this familiar haven of peace and comfort, reading my favourite book and planning my day as I let it happen naturally. Maybe I will take myself out on a date today, see a movie, have coffee, go to a market, a gallery or pamper myself with a trip to the sauna. I will probably do all of the above. But there is comfort in knowing that I have the ability to do whatever I fancy today. And that, my friends, is the single most superior feeling I have had all weekend.

Online Dating – yay or nay?

So my life is pretty great. Friends, family. job. I have enough money to enjoy life and save some so that I can joyfully grow older. What is missing in this picture? A dedicated man in my life! Most of the time I am fine. But some nights I find myself clutching the pillow tight, day dreaming about Mr Right or cringing with frustration when all of my friends are too busy with their husbands/boyfriends and have no time for me. Since my sister had enough of my nagging, the never ending complaining about being unrightfully single, unable to face life all by herself anymore, she advised me to revert to online dating.

I have done it in the past and met an ex boyfriend through it. The only problem is, I told myself never to go back to online dating and find my future partner in the “real world”. Why? Online dating has its advantages and disadvantages. The advantage is, you meet many likeminded, eligible singles, who are burning to find someone to love, just like you. The chances of finding someone you might actually like is increased, as you meet their characters first before meeting their physical side. This can be good, especially if your physical side is more on the heavier side, like in my case. And the disadvantage? It’s awkward at first, talking to a machine but you get used to it. There is a innate risk that people don’t honestly portray themselves, and you have to read many profiles before you find anything that fits you.

Despite the disadvantages I have signed up to an online site today. I guess this is the last straw. I just can’t go on living like this, a half a dozen almost lovers, one or two affairs, ex boyfriends, flirts with colleagues… this is not the answer to my problem. I want a real relationship. And I believe I deserve it after all these mishaps in the past year! I have entered this online dating world with a number of mixed feelings. On the one side I hope to find someone who will love me for who I really am and whom I can truly love back. Someone who will enrich my life. On the other hand side I am a bit wary because I know how internet dating works. You are judged according to how interesting your profile looks. And sometimes you fall hard for what later turns out to be a scumbag. So I approach it with extreme caution but also excitement. Perhaps my next real life boyfriend is waiting for me just around the courner. Will keep you updated!!

Friends with benefits – men vs women

They say humans are group animals. We like to gather in numbers to mingle and fill our social need. Sometimes this results in full blown, monogamous relationships. At other times, however, it will result in a state halfway between a relationship and singledom – the fling (also commonly known as friends with benefits). Whether it is kissing at a night club, one night stands or even affairs that last for a couple of months, the fling is something that we all have experienced in some sort of way.

Some women find pleasure in frequently changing their sex partners while others – like me – are not strong enough to cough up the balls to keep their feelings out of it and suffer under the concept. One must remember that flings are physical. Two consenting adults enjoying what their parents gave them and making life just a tat more exciting. As soon as you hope the other one will “change his mind” about the kind of relationship you are having or you cyberstalk or call him for reasons other than booty calls, you know you’re screwed. You’ve just allowed your feelings to take over your common sense. This can only end badly.

I have been guily of enjoying one or two flings a little too much and involving my feelings. Where has this left me? Heart broken and wary of men. Because now I believe that men only want the one thing from me and I might possibly be not enough for the “real deal”. It always seems so easy for them. Late night calls, visits, sex sessions that go on for hours featuring several kama sutra positions, touching, kissing, holding each other, even a little talk here and there. And then… nothing. They leave and you are nothing to them. Not more worth or interesting than the woman they just saw on the street, crossing a traffic light.

And women? We think there is meaning when hands are being held, slow kisses exchanges, or soft touches received. Is it possible to be sensual without feeling? Well, I never believed it but it seems like men can easily fake their affection. For them it’s part of the experience. For us, it is code for “I care about you”. And so I fell hard a few times. I lost my heart to someone like that and he didn’t want it. I lost piece of my heart to someone else who took it and stole another one’s heart. For them it is just a game. If only I knew this earlier…

I envy women who go for what they want and just take it without remorse. Some might argue that this is the sentiment of a bed-hopping ‘ho, but if SHE is confident and stays safe, why couldn’t she take advantage of her physical assets? Men do it all the time. I know now that I have to protect my heart, because I am not the fling/one night stand type who could just switch off her feelings. I just have to accept that…

The X Files

This is something that concerns single girls and taken ones alike: The ex. I am not talking about just any ex, no, the one that got away. We think about him when “our” song plays, certain scenarios or environments trigger good memories together or when friends and family once again mention him followed by a grunt and a comment somewhere along the lines of “be happy you are rid of him, you are too good for him” bla bla bla.

We know this; we have been there when the break up happened. It doesn’t matter who did the dirty deed – the relationship had ended. But every so often we find ourselves reminiscing about this person as if he was one of our favourite childhood memories. What is he doing now? Or WHO is he doing now? Sometimes these questions get answered when we bump into him walking on the street with his new wife, clutching his newly-born baby or, in my case, when he sends you a birthday wish after what feels like 20 years, though it might have only been months apart. And there it is, staring you right into the face. Your past, sneakily hiding itself in the form of a social convention and opening up old boxes long dusty in the back of your mind.

What to do? If you don’t say anything you will forever be known as the bitch ex, who hates men. But if you do say something, you might end up reconnecting. Eeekkk. And that’s where my problem started. I know I shouldn’t have pushed that reply button, and yet I did. How I wished he wouldn’t respond. How I wished he did. Love matters are fickle things. Well my ex file turned out to be talkative that day and DID open up quite easily. And so a dialogue started. My conclusion at the end of the day: Thank goodness we broke up! Now I know why we did and know it was for the better. It doesn’t matter how good our past was, how many good memories we shared or how well I thought we fit together. The break up was inevitable and would have happened sooner or later.

Some couples might reconnect after meeting again years later and even marry. But I am not a supporter of this movement. If something is broken, you can try to fix it, but it will never be as good as new. And if the foundation has cracked, the downfall is near.

What have I learnt from the x files? Let the past be the past, if it didn’t work out, there probably was a reason. All I have now is a heart with broken stitches and the crippling realization that I am still single. Again, I am rather alone than with someone who is not right for me. It’s just sometimes really hard to stand your ground when you stand all by your lonesome self…

Sticky Business – The office affair

If you are a single working girl, you most probably have met the majourity of your friends (if not all) at work. It seems obvious, as we seem to spend more time at the workplace nowadays than anywhere else. The problem that presents itself in this scenario, however, is what to do if you meet a prospective love interest? How do you proceed?

Some women I have interviewed about this topic have earnestly informed me that they would never, EVER, date someone at work. Even if that someone is someone they could see themselves dating or even falling in love with. Others openly admitted to having had an affair with a co-worker at least once. 99% of the time it ends, without a happy ending. To conclude, it seems to be a bad affair to be involved in.

Last night, while sitting at the office and letting my eyes peak over my desk, I noticed several possible office affairs. Over at the printer, by the kitchen, at meetings, at discussions. Looks of desire were exchanged, hands secretely held, several seemingly innocent laughs exchanged. And then I knew. The office is the number one hot spot for bachelors on the hunt. And why shouldn’t it be? If both parties are equally into the relationship and keep their involvement discreet while at work, I don’t see a problem why two grown up people shouldn’t be allowed to fall in love and be together. What makes it icky are the purely sexual affairs. And that’s where I come in.

I have been guilty of commiting this crime that has yet to be defined as such. It happened slowly, crept in on me. And before I knew it I was sleeping with a co-worker. Yes I liked him and yes I had hoped it would turn out to be more, which it never did. He blocked me off like a child in a timeout space. What followed were awkward moments when we would both be at work, trying to avoid the other. Where only weeks before we were the heart and soul of the office, we now only hesitantly followed dialogue when required through work. I would also see him at social functions occasionally and the fire raged. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. It was obvious we would jump at the opportunity of intertangling where possible, yet it never happend. It was just too awkward.

Months have passed, I didn’t see him at work much as we had different work routines, and I had almost forgotten this forbidden fruit. And then he crept into my life again like a lizzard on paroule and my mind started going around in circles again, fantasizing.  He is so young still, so adventurous. He wants his space and freedom, as many women as possible, even more than he can handle, and no committment. Just sex sex sex. I found my heart was falling again, rising in the light of hope, and breaking into million pieces. We have done this before, so why was I so stupid to believe something could have changed? It didn’t. And so I started to coldly ignore him, as if he was a stranger, I would neither look nor speak to him. I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

It hurt to let him go that way, but it was the only way to protect my heart. I can’t do the merry-go-round with him forever. And my little heart is too pure and fragile as to keep a strictly physical affair alive. One day, and I hope this will be soon, there will be a man of pure intentions. Someone who respects me for who I am and puts me over his interest in others. I know this is a long shot, because I live in a big city with more potential sex partners than I could possibly imagine. But I have to try, because this is what I want and what makes me happy.

What I have learnt from this, is to keep work strictly professional. I will be on the tried and tested team, but I will never again indulge in this sticky business again (excuse the pun). It’s not dandy seeing your ex-lover, who rejected you, day in and day out, fondling women, who are much hotter than you, at your place of work and there is nothing you can do about that but to change the company. Next time I’ll be wiser…

Crispin – My flavour du jour

There is a wrong perception out there, mainly among coupled up people, that single girls have it good because we have a choice of men. And whichever “flavour” we feel we would like to “taste” at any given day, we are free to eat, whereas couples eat vanilla all year around.

But let me tell you, not all encounters with the male species can be described as blueberry cheesecake or chocolate chip trouffle. There is the occasional strawberry, who is not worth mentioning to our friends and whom we would like to forget. Unfortunately I have eaten more strawberry than anything else this year. My recent strawberry with an aftertaste of stale potato leek soup has recently come out in a way too forward to grasp.

Crispin and I met through my previous office job. At the printer we first made eye contact and I instantly knew I liked this guy. Well groomed, charming, and with manners that makes the Duchess of Cambridge look like a rowdy schoolgirl. He was in a working relationship so I grudgingly backed off. It is a common occurence that the best men always  come with a woman attached to their hips. It seems an obvious matter but I still find myself falling into bouts of frustration whenever an attractive man spills his beans about his unbreakable bond to his life partner. And so Crispin became yet another vanilla guy in my life full of bleak relationship people.

When years later we met again by accident, and he seemed to take interest in my beautiful, curvy sister, I hesitantly gave these two self-made vanilla types a chance to be together. Unfortunately it didnt work out due to their lack of initiative. But since I found pleasure in spending some quality time with someone not into me (or so I believed), I started to see Crispin more frequently. He was shy, warm hearted and fun, and I enjoyed his company. All single girls know that a man-free period of time is only acceptable to a certain extend, after which we ache to fill up that tank, only the proximity to testosterone can fill.

But as the months went by, I realized that Crispin was not the vanilla type at all. He might have been, during his long term relationship, but now he progressed to strawberry. And strawberry is vicious. It looks yummy at first, but the more you tase it, the sourer it becomes. Crispin turned out to be a sex-fanatic, superficial, desperate and selfish a**hole.

We never gotten closer than a sleep over including cuddling. No kisses, no penetration, no other funny business of some sort. The honest truth is that because singles lack the presence of males most of the time, we try to make the most of it when they are in fact, present. This involves sleep-overs and any kind of physical contact as far as desirable, including sex. But, being the stuck-up, priority-upholding, self-respecting single that I am, I blocked any of his attempts to lure me into the lion’s den. He might have had a chance at the beginning, but after getting to know him better, I knew, he was just another testosterone bag, who would drop me as soon as the bedroom cha cha was done.

He would invite me to sleep over on several other occasions, his proposals always following a wink and a grin from ear to ear. But I always turned him down. Why? Because I was hurt. Suddenly our friendship developed into a sex-charged, awkward acquaintance with future potential. He only gotten closer to me to get me into bed. All these nights out, these conversations… All of this wasn’t for the purpose of maintaining a friendship but for the sole reason to initiate a physical relationship – which I wasn’t ready for.

So today he finally spilt the beans about his hopes of a common sexual experience. I am afraid this means bye bye Crispin. Bye bye good friend. And again, I am disappointed of the male species. I always believed they were capable of being friends, no benefits, no romantic involvement. Guess I was wrong. You can probably only be friends with a man if you already slept with him (and even then the chemistry could still be going). Ladies, if you are acceptably attractive and your male friend has a penis, he has fantasized about you already. Either sexually, romantically or maybe both. And if you are not interested in stepping over the friends boundary, you are bound to let him go sooner or later and find your next favourite flavour. One word of advise though: Stay away from strawberry, they only waste your time.