-The one who gave me the most romantic first date of my life. The setting was by the South Coast which is where I’m from originally. He drove to mine, and came prepared with a blanket, glasses, prosecco and chocolates. We walked along the beach for a bit, set up and watched the sunset followed by fireworks. He was a brilliant kisser as well and it got quite frisky the darker it got. Despite my date putting all the effort in and being so thoughtful, I was only down for the weekend and when I got the train back to London I think it dawned on us both that it just wasn't going to work long distance
-The one who was studying physiotherapy and gave me a massage on the date, in a pub. This was also a weekend date on the South Coast, he was very sexy and a brilliant kisser.
-The one who was too good to be true. We dated for a few weeks and I couldn't get enough of him. We would lie in bed for hours listening to all the pop punk classics and had sex to the Angels & Airwaves album. When I told him later on down the line that I wasn't interested in dating anyone else, he freaked out and told me he wasn't ready to commit. He told me this at 1am when he was in my bed, and he was living in Leicester at the time so he had no way of getting home.
In hindsight, I think his belt buckle (hideous, also who wears belt buckles these days?) and the amount of time he took to do his hair in the morning (at least an hour, and it still didn't look great) would have put me off eventually
-The one who took me to see Wicked on our third date. Best third date ever!
-The one who convinced me to come back to mine after the first date so he could watch the rest of Black Mirror S3. I also didn't fancy him when I first met him, but his chat and humour won me over and we ended up dating for a few months. One of our dates that sticks in my mind most was we went to a late night opening of the Science Museum with unlimited free drink. Things ended because he had some underlying issues and a bit of a temper, and it took it’s toll
-The one who arranged a second date with me, only to tell me when I asked what the plans were that he was actually considering going home for the weekend. I should have known he wasn't the one on the first date when we were buying G&Ts in Waitrose and he asked whose round it was
-The one who insisted it was more than just a bang... before proving himself wrong. This was someone who I decided to believe when he told me he had never “done casual” and was looking for something more substantial. The reason I originally doubted him? Because the majority of our conversations revolved around sex. Yes, I was the one who started these chats, but a girl’s gotta know what she’s working with! Anyway, we had planned our first meet to be drinks, followed by him coming back to mine.. after him hardly asking me any questions for the next few days, and asking for pictures instead, I decided it might be a better idea just to go for drinks (even though I sort of had the intention of inviting him back anyway - this was more of a test). A test which he failed - he agreed to the drinks, then a few hours later came out with excuses (see screenshot) TEST FAILED.
-The one who bought me a G&T I really didn't want. I wasn't having a great time, and I met him quite late on a Saturday (after having dinner and a few drinks with a friend first). So instead of forcing it down, I caught the gin in my straw by putting my thumb over the end of it, moving it subtly to my side, and emptying the contents on the floor (we were sat outside so I didn't feel like I was making a mess). I apparently thought I was being more subtle than I actually was, my date caught me in the act and said if I hadn't wanted the drink I should have just said.. eek. Think I covered it up pretty well by saying it was a subconscious thing I did. After all that, he still kissed me and asked me on a second date! Needless to say I politely declined the latter.
-The one who turned out to be like all the rest.
We started speaking on Bumble, our messages got quite lengthy and I was speaking to a couple of other guys so forgot to reply to one of his messages. Rather than leave it, he double messaged me asking if I wanted to go for a drink. I was pretty flattered that he’d bothered to chase me up, so we swapped numbers and carried on speaking over WhatsApp.
We were meant to go on a date recently, but the biggest spot came up on my chin so I decided to make up a believable excuse and postpone it a few days. My excuse was that our house had been burgled... he was actually really sweet about it, tried to call to check I was ok.. things I took as all being good signs.
One evening though, our conversation took a bit of a turn - he became quite suggestive without my prompting. I called him out on it, suggested he was after one thing and basically said thanks, but no thanks. I was looking for something more... He said sorry if he made me feel uncomfortable, that he was looking to meet someone special (but never actually tried to correct me). I didn’t reply, my instincts were telling me this probably wasn't the thing I was looking for. I then received the below message from him the next morning... always trust your instinct!
This is for the dates that don’t deserve a full blog post, but are still worth a mention:
-The one that I was convinced could be on the Undateables. He couldn't look me in the eye when he spoke to me, had the most forced, false and loud laugh which came at completely random moments and made me feel very uncomfortable. I had to get my friend to bail me out saying she was locked out of the house - she even text me it so I could show it as “proof”.
-The one who shared his name with one of the One Direction boys, and insisted he had been told there was a physical resemblance between them too. There wasn’t.
-The one who caught my eye when I was out on another date and then who I matched with later on Bumble (absolutely delighted!) He was pretty cool, with an edgy streak, cycled everywhere but had ADD which meant he was very twitchy and couldn't really sit still. On a cinema date, we were holding hands and he spent the whole time pushing his fingernails under mine and clicking them. When we kissed he also kept caressing my boobs in a very obvious manner, particularly to the couple next to us. Very strange.
(Also worth noting he was also probably one of the most selfish guys I’ve ever slept with - I don’t think he touched me once. Which was ironic considering the amount of inappropriate boob grazing going on in the cinema!)
-The one I found out had done a social stalk of me when we met on the date. I actually ended up dating this guy for a month or so - he was VERY good with his hands, probably the best I’ve had. But towards the end of our first date, we were doing a Google search on his phone for places nearby that were still open and what came up as his most recently searched item? Why, my full name of course. The embarrassment was pretty clear - but it was worth getting over for! Terrible trainers though.
-The one who lived round the corner. We matched on Bumble at 4pm on a Friday, went on a date at 7pm, ended up in McDonalds at 1am, back to mine for 2am. We then found out he lives on the parallel road to me - convenient, but creepy.
-The one that I thought wasn't a date that actually was. This was someone I knew within a work capacity who I always flirted with, and flirted back with me but had a girlfriend. One day we came across each other on Bumble and he suggested a drink, which I still assumed was a friendly one. Half way through the “date”, he told me how much he always fancied me and felt bad as he was thinking about me constantly when with his girlfriend. He “missed his last train” so ended up back at mine, and fell off the bed quite spectacularly. I couldn't see him in any kind of sexy way afterwards.
-The one I dated because I remembered him from First Dates. And he was more tanned than me, and that really is one of my bonus boxes. He was VERY LOUD though, which made me feel so conscious.
-The one who was a friend of a friend. He was Spanish and couldn’t really understand what I was saying. I had to put on a bit of a foreign accent myself when speaking just so he could keep up.
-The one who turned up with a book in his hand. Our first date was in a park in the summer, I paid for all the ciders and he’d travelled on the tube so had a huge novel with him that he’d been reading and was planning on finishing on the way back. I actually went on a second date with this guy, but was less than impressed when he suggested we split the dinner bill after I’d paid for the drinks on the first date (yes, they were just a few bottles of cider from Tesco but STILL)
-The one who came on far too strong. After the first date he messaged me saying “Was not easy letting you go then! I already can’t get enough of you this is definitely going to be dangerous.” EEK. We were watching a World Cup game for our second date which I reluctantly agreed to, and I insisted my best friend just had to come and watch the second half the match with us. He soon got the hint... and I came home and ordered Dominos chicken strippers.
-The one I regretted inviting to stay over before actually meeting. We FaceTimed whilst he was on holiday and seemed to get along well and I fancied him, so thought it might not have been the worst idea in the world to tell him he could stay over after our first date as he lived outside the M25. He turned up at my door with his overnight bag and my heart sank, but I made my bed so I had to lie in it... Lesson learnt.
-The one who had me fooled. He arranged a date for us at the OXO tower and bought bottle after bottle of prosecco for us. He even ordered us posh cheesy chips when we felt a bit peckish half way through. The clock struck 1am, and bearing in mind it was a Wednesday, it was time to go home. He took my phone off me to order me an Uber, and asked how many passengers. Confused, I answered ‘one’ obviously? He sort of rolled his eyes, but I got in the Uber and made it home safely.... Only to be met with a text from him saying “I don’t understand how tonight ended up with you going home by yourself” Charming.
I’m going to skip straight to the second date for this one, as I was caught totally unaware after what could only be described as a brilliant first meeting.
The Dirtbag works in fashion, so he’s got a pretty good sense of style, very well groomed and super charming. He was also ridiculously confident which I really liked.
For our second date, we met at a pub where he was watching a Liverpool football game. The match didn't really mean much to me, but I agreed to meet him towards the end of the game so we could go off for a few more drinks. He was already a few beers down but after I caught up, we tipsily decided to head back to his. I’d already sort of pre-empted this and packed an overnight bag (just in case - there’s no such thing as being too prepared).
When we were on the tube heading East (obviously - he does work in fashion...), he asked whether I would mind waiting 20 minutes outside whilst he tried to clean his room. He looked a bit nervous but I laughed and said surely it’s not that bad. He seemed to think otherwise...
By the time we got to his, the 20 minutes of waiting time had been forgotten about (or ignored due to the amount of kissing we’d done on the tube) and we headed straight in.
It wasn’t a good start... in the hallway there wasn't actually a spare piece of carpet I could actually put my foot on. Shoes and general dirt were littered all over the floor.
We moved up to his bedroom, and I’m sad to say it wasn't much better. There were at least two empty pizza boxes, mugs half full of mouldy tea, and plates with crumbs in every corner of his room. The bed wasn't made, but looked as if it had a few stains.
But I was there now, and as much as I wanted to scream and run back to where I’d come from I thought I may as well make the most of it. He was sort of apologetic in a told-you-so kind of way.
So I stayed the night. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience of my life - his mind was as dirty as his bed sheets so I’ll spare you the details of what went on but let’s just say I woke up the next morning deciding it wasn't meant to be.
Then came the bathroom... the bathroom in which I had to pee whilst having a shower because there was zero loo roll anyway, just the empty loo roll tubes all over the floor, taunting me. At least it meant I didn’t have to use the toilet that had a jungle of pubes all over the seat.
I left thinking we would never see or speak to each other again, but I actually got a text from him a couple of days later. It didn’t really say much, and felt like a bit of a courtesy text. It was also the day he left on holiday for two weeks - something I was incredibly thankful for so we could skip all pretences and I could continue to live my toilet-roll-in-abundance life.
I recently started speaking to someone who, after a few days of lots of back and forth messages, asked me how tall I am.
I really don’t mind this. In fact if anything it saves me the job of asking them, just to avoid any unexpected surprises when it comes to the first date.
I had a debate with my best friend over this - I’m pretty sure I’m 5′6 (those had always been my measurements back when it was a thing), but my friend also being 5′6 insisted she was pretty sure I was a little shorter than her. So I decided to tell The Short Straw I was 5′5 and hope for the best.
His response was that he was also 5′5 and he hoped that wasn't an issue for me.
Now, usually this would be a dealbreaker for me - I’d happily take 5′9 and above, but previously I haven’t really wanted to go below that. But because we’d been speaking for a while, and we seemed to get on well and I found him very attractive (he had a bit of Paul Rudd about him) I decided to give it a go.
I was really hoping he’d be a ‘tall 5′5′ - that his confidence would override the height issue, and he’d hold himself well enough to give the impression he was taller.
We met on Saturday afternoon as he had a friend’s birthday drinks that evening (please note - this is a brilliant idea for those of you who are worried about having a reason to get out of something if it’s not going well).
He was sitting down when I met him. We had a few drinks and things were going well. It was only when we both stood up to head to the tube that I realised... he wasn't 5′5. There was no way he was 5′5 because he was at least 2 inches shorter than me.
My guess is that he was about 5′3/5′4 at an absolute push. And I can’t even tell you how awkward I felt walking next to him. We had an awkward goodbye kiss and I’m still half convinced that’s why my back and neck hurt that evening.
I wouldn't consider myself a shallow person at all, but I draw the line at how ridiculous I felt next to him. And as far as I was aware, I was about to go on a date with someone an inch shorter than me anyway?!
Lesson learnt - if a guy asks you how tall you are, it may be likely that they’re on the shorter side.
Also, if they tell you they’re the same height as you, maybe shave a couple of inches off that.
I’m not normally one for fitness fanatics, but Iron Man was definitely my type with his dark hair, tanned skin and green eyes.
Admittedly, he did seem to spend a lot of time doing triathlons and going on 100km bike rides and 40km runs, but surely this shouldn't be a deal breaker, however strange it seemed to me?
He offered to organise our own personal bar crawl around Waterloo (he knew the area pretty well as he used to live there), plus this was a clear sign he still drank alcohol so I agreed to meet him and we arranged a time and a place.
I met him at Waterloo Station and at first glance, I didn't fancy him. He was wearing a long, dramatic black coat, and sounded a lot posher than I thought he would be. He also came across as a bit awkward, over the top and try hard. Determined to keep an open mind, I pushed it to the back of my head and concentrated on enjoying our bar crawl he’d so thoroughly organised.
Obviously one thing I hadn't thought of... a bar crawl meant we were getting very drunk.
So drunk in fact, that at the end of the night when we were walking back to Waterloo station he decided to be what I can only assume he thought was spontaneous and romantic, pinned my wrists back behind my head against a wall and snogged me.
I wouldn't normally use the word snog, but this was far from a kiss. I was so conscious of how we looked, not only to people passing by but to the police car which slowed down considerably when driving past us. I tried not to look pleadingly their way, and telepathically begged them not to make a scene and get out of their car.
Thankfully, they drove on.
I eventually gained enough courage to push him away, laughed it off, and ran for my tube which I insisted was the last one of the night that I absolutely HAD to catch.
He texted me asking if I wanted to go for tapas for our second date, I politely but firmly declined.
Picture this... it was December time, my ex boyfriend and I had split up in October, and I was absolutely dreading having no boy to message on Christmas Day.
The obvious single girl in the city answer to this? Why, download a dating app and find a boy to keep you company via WhatsApp of course!
In stepped The Blender Thief. Our brief messages over Tinder soon became essays over WhatsApp. We seemed to have a ridiculous amount in common, including a kryptonite element of mine - he liked pop punk music AND used to play in a band. Surely this was too good to be true?!
We agreed to meet up as soon as we were both back from the Christmas break at a cute cosy pub near where we lived in South London.
I remember feeling pretty disappointed when I first saw him - he looked similar enough to his profile pictures but a bit more pigeon-like, and didn’t really carry the same confidence that beamed out over his messages.
A few drinks in though, and I thought to myself ‘ok, this isn’t so bad.’ He was lovely and we had lots to chat about as we felt like we knew each other relatively well after 2 weeks of constantly messaging over Christmas.
The night ended in a kiss, and he asked if I wanted to go over to his the next day and he would cook us dinner. He even asked what my favourite cuisine was to which I replied Thai so he suggested he make us a Thai green curry. I was very excited - I had only been single a few months, and had already found someone who wanted to cook for me!
He messaged me the next day asking if I owned a blender - he had all the ingredients but no blender to mix them all in. I said I wouldn't mind bringing mine over - it was the least I could do after all this effort he was putting in to cook me dinner.
The evening went well - the curry was delicious and his flat was really nice. After dinner, he showed me around the rest of the flat and we happened to end up in his bedroom...and his bed.
HOWEVER, when it came down to the deed, something was wrong, very wrong. Not only was it wrong, it wasn’t actually working properly... if you know what I mean.
Awkwardness turned to emotion, as he proceeded to tell me he wasn't over his ex, he still loved her and that this didn’t feel right.
I felt pretty humiliated to say the least. There I was, lying completely naked in front of him, 10 minutes beforehand ready and raring to go, and now he was close to bawling his eyes out and telling me how much he misses his ex.
Needless to say, I made my excuses and bolted it out of there. Unfortunately the last thing on my mind at that time was my blender...
Now, did he do the gentlemanly thing and message me the next day asking if I wanted my blender back?
Did he f***! I never heard from him again.
Fast forward 5 months, I’m at a Sunday pub quiz with a group of friends and who catches my eye sat in the corner ON A DATE? You guessed it, the Blender Thief.
Obviously I had to nudge all my mates (as subtly as possible) and tell them exactly how I knew this boy, and the context behind the missing blender.
Did I go over and confront him and ask for my blender back? Or did we make our quiz team name ‘Where’s My Blender?’ in the hope that he would hear and be ridiculously embarrassed?
