Guardian soulhates Part 1 - Anenome Man

When I first dipped my perfectly pedicured toe into the murky waters of internet dating over a year ago, I suspected it really wasn't for me. I'm not entirely swayed by romantic novels, but I'd always suspected that the way I'd actually meet someone would be for our eyes to meet across a crowded room, for passion to take over, and for us to re-emerge from the bedroom, bow-legged and starry-eyed and declaring eternal love about 4 days later. But it wasn't happening. In fact, I was barely meeting any new men. And those I did meet either didn't want to ravish me, or I didn't want to ravish them, or there'd be ravishing and then a hasty retreat backed by one or both parties, never to see again. 

So, eventually swayed by a lovely friend, who'd found love herself that way, I got into it. I opted for Guardian, on the basis that it would be filled with people who were Like Me, i.e. educated, potentially quite attractive, and maybe even quite fun. Well...

There are some upsides to internet dating, there is no doubt. Mainly that it gives you great confidence in getting out of awkward social situations. I also, honestly, think it made me better at work, for this very reason.

But as a way of dating? Not for me. I decide (like most people, I guess?) very quickly whether I fancy someone or not. Lust is important to me. And when you put aside a whole evening, just to meet one of these creatures, but you know within 20 seconds that you never, ever want to see them nekkid, it just feels like time wasted. Like going for a job interview where you have no interest in the job itself, but not having any way of getting out of it without looking like a total bitch. Ahem, I mean, unprofessional person.

Anyway, probably the worst date I ever went on was through Guardian soulmates. We'd been corresponding by email for some time. Not wildly interesting, but he looked cute in the photo - had a full head of hair, a slight closed-mouth smile that suggested there might be dimples...  He boldly marked himself up as 'attractive'. And I thought, yes ok. 

Still, he failed right away really, by arranging to meet at a bar I just knew would be unbearably crowded and refused to be persuaded otherwise. But, boys, you can't go for a first date to a bar you can't sit down at. It just doesn't work. However, we met, but the crowdedness meant didn't have a chance for proper look at one another right at the start. So then we wandered a bit aimlessly, and eventually found a pub where there were seats (mainly because the pub was grim. Of course). Anyway, during this wandering time, I kept furtively glancing over to him. Oh dear. I thought. Oh deary me. There will be no chemistry with this one. Nil by dimples for starters. Then we sat down to drink, and ... Reader... he smiled.

Now, I don't like to mock people for their appearances. I'm hardly Miss Perfect. But I can barely even begin to tell you how horrific it was. His front teeth were at right angles to where they were meant to be. As if they'd been put in his mouth sideways by mistake. As a result, the inside of his top lip was so scarred up that bits of skin hung downwards. It was like one of the Oods from Dr Who. Or like looking at a toothy sea anenome. I actually gasped.

Worse still, he was spectacularly boring. As he told me (with some inevitable spittle landing on my face as he spoke) about his engineering job and how he thinks people with creative jobs are just "wasting time", and ALL I could think was "Do you also think orthodontists are wasting time? Why didn't your parents love you enough to sort this out? How the hell can I leave?"

Anyway, I don't go to press parties for nothing. I downed my drink, like a seasoned alcoholic, and gazed at the glass balefully. He spluttered (literally) "Can I get you another drink?" to which I replied calmly "I'm terribly sorry. I have a train to catch." I don't know where the train idea came from, but he seemed to buy it. Well, until I walked off in the opposite direction of the station I claimed to be aiming for...

Anyway, to this day, I don't know what was worse. My (lack of) excuse. Or his (lack of) dental work. But I just had to leave. Apart from anything, I needed to wash my face. And my hands of internet dating. At least for a little bit...

But I did go back to it. And met a man who thought I was The One. That was, until we actually met. Yet another true story from the dating frontline... I'll tell it to you soon.

xoxo.