The Blind Date.

A few weeks ago I went to a fabulous restaurant for dinner on a blind date paid for by a national newspaper. Both of us had been matched by someone who was running a feature about older daters and of course I was looking forward to it, as anyone who has agreed to go on a blind date must have something about them already.

A photographer came round to my place 2 hours early and had patiently been waiting for me to get home so he could set up, but he then had to wait for me to get ready. The dress code is quite strict with photographs especially where colour is concerned so the outfit I’d originally planned to wear for the photos was considered to be too dark. White was also a non starter as were certain patterns so the end result was probably the only outfit we could use,(didn’t wear it on the date though) so luckily it turned out alright.

It’s always strange meeting someone on a blind date but I like the fact I don’t know anything about them, there’s been no interaction so I have no expectations. Colin was the perfect gentleman, was easy to get on with and had plenty to say, although that didn’t seem to stop him drinking most of the wine. He told me a couple of things that made me think he was  probably not for me but he was in fact good company but it wasn’t long before he made it quite clear that he liked me, and I mean REALLY liked me, so much so that after telling him I was off to Ibiza on holiday that coming weekend he said that he could probably come out there himself and where was it I was staying? After laughing it off and saying he was joking (he so wasn’t) he decided to try and show off by talking Spanish to the Italian waiters who obviously couldn’t understand him. On that note we left the restaurant and made our way to Piccadilly Gardens.

Once outside Colin tried to link me, then he was rubbing my back, pawing at me and generally trying to pull me close to him until I told him to stop it. Once we got to my bus stop he insisted on staying with me until the bus came and thought it would be an opportunity to pull me close to him even though he says in his interview he knew I was uncomfortable with it. He gave me his number (no intention of using it) and that was that. The journalist doing the feature rang both of us to ask how we got on a couple of days later and she mentioned that Colin had said I hadn’t been in touch.

Two days and Colin said I hadn’t been in touch.

I told her all about the date and about how he was way too keen and how off putting it is and she agreed before saying “Why don’t you just text him to thank him for the date?” But I did that on the night, he knows, I don’t want to encourage him, I know EXACTLY what will happen. “To be polite”, she said. Hang on a minute, I’ve done my bit, I’ve been polite enough putting up with everything that happened on the way back to the bus stop, Colin’s had a good night let’s just leave it. “Just be polite” so I messaged him.

What a mistake that was.

I was bombarded with messages every day while I was on holiday, I didn’t even reply to most of them but that didn’t stop him. He wanted to know which hotel I was in, he could come over and stay, (this is the problem with retired guys too much time on their hands) we were going to have such a good time, apparently. This after just ONE DATE. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, I’ve been on enough dates to know when something’s not right. Because I didn’t reply the messages stopped apart from Thursday mornings when I’d get told who was in this week’s feature of Blind Date in the paper.

Until today.

Today it was our turn to be in the paper with our blind date and I think some clarification is needed to explain the difference between a “good date” and a “good date” where you want to see someone again.

1, I didn’t fancy him, if I did that would have gone a long way to wanting to see him again.

2. The fact you have something in common doesn’t mean it’s going anywhere. In our case our common interest (apparently) was the fact he lived in Spain doing dodgy dealings and I lived in Gibraltar at a completely different time drinking too much vodka that put me off for life. Enough to ride off into the sunset?

3. Just because we’re older doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be as picky. I’m still working, most guys I date are retired which means that they will be sulking as I don’t have the time they need to be at their beck and call and even though they’ll all say they love the fact I have my own life they don’t like it at all.

4. People can lose their confidence when it comes to dating and I understand that, being too keen can mean they’ve forgotten what the rules are and if that’s the case then it’s fine, but don’t push it when someone says “No” that’s just being an idiot.

5. When you’ve been dating a while you’ve been on enough dates to know the difference between a “good date”and one that means you can’t wait to see them again. How many people do you see on First Dates who after the date say they want to see each other again but then don’t?

6. Chemistry. End of.

I had a nice time, we had a good date but it wasn’t enough, just couldn’t see myself with him no matter how hard I tried and a goddess won’t settle for second best. To add insult to injury after I’d been on the blind date when I got off the bus near home I crossed  the road, tripped, and fell head first along the pavement which resulted in a damaged knee ligament.

No Colin. you weren’t worth that.

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A Cautionary Tale.

As Christmas fast approaches, anyone with children will know that not only will you have your own social diary to organise but at some point you’ll have to attend nativity plays, Christmas carol concerts and the obligatory fundraiser known as the school Christmas Fayre. The latter is more of a social event for all the mums and dads really, as the ones I went to when my own kids were at primary school sold alcohol and were usually held in the evening. The dads were to be found sat as close to the bar as possible, while the mums were sat in the main hall trading any gossip they had and keeping an eye on the kids at the same time.

One particular Christmas 3 or 4 of us ladies thought we’d live a little and have a plastic cup of warm white wine from the “bar.”  (we’re talking a school fayre kiddos, we’re not at The Alchemist) I’m not quite sure if we had more than two but I doubt it as the event finished around 9 0’clock and it was hardly pinot grigio but on the walk home I started to feel really unwell. I was staggering all over the place, dropping my keys in the snow and  falling over which the kids found funny at first until I eventually got in to the house. Once I was inside I knew I was in big trouble as by now I could hardly walk and as the kids put me to bed I was throwing up all over the place. Lying down I couldn’t lift my head up and it did cross my mind that I might actually choke on my own vomit but there was nothing I could do. I could see the headline.”Woman found clutching a tea towel that she’d won on the tombola” but would they name the school? At the time I thought maybe I’d had a dodgy wine but a couple of days later I found out that all the other ladies had also been really ill.

So this is what I think happened.

I think maybe someone on the committee had made some home made wine (it was probably Sheila, she can’t bear to be left out) and thought what a good idea it would be to sell it over the bar as a good way of making money for the school. No one saw the bottle it came out of, never mind the label on it and let’s face it, we’re not going to ask which vineyard that particular grape came from when it’s been poured into a plastic cup. So just a word of warning ladies when you’re attending this year’s school fundraiser. While you don’t expect a top of the range wine at these social school events you should hope that at the very least you don’t get alcoholic poisoning from them but having said that I’m pretty sure it’s not a usual occurrence. If in doubt, offer to buy a drink for the person who’s been flirting with your partner all evening. Just saying.

 

 

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