Face like Crime Watch

Well, here it is – the first post of 2011. And it’s going to be a moany one. About dating.

With the business of Christmas out of the way (shopping, drinking, hangovers, eating, drinking, hangovers, glowering) I decided to get back into the dating thing for 2011. What people don’t tell you is that it’s hard work. You have to be prepared to find time to trawl through endless profiles, for someone who’s photo isn’t like something off Crime Watch and who’s personal description goes beyond “I like smiling, the gym and socialising.” Then there’s the contact thing. It takes time to reply to messages and filter out who you are and aren’t going to respond to. Then there’s the actual dating – going to meet a stranger in a pub after a busy day at work to make wry, flirty, intelligent conversation, when all you really want to do is sit about in your pants and have a nice glass of wine and some crisps while you watch My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding… what do you mean, that’s why I’m single? Shut up.

Anyway. The etiquette of contact. What I am finding is two things: one, I attract some dodgy types who can’t actually type English (the best one’s personal tagline read ‘Where is soulmate?’), and two, there are a fuckload of timewasters on this site. Before Christmas, it all seemed quite straightforward and everyone I met was normal. (With the exception of the Doctor who clearly had the mental stability of a post-Haribo and Capri-Sun binge Jedward on a trip to Alton Towers.) Arranging dates was simple and they always turned up.

Since Christmas, I’ve had messages from three men who looked interesting enough to agree to meet for a drink. It started off with the usual slightly laboured conversation based around something they’d seen on my profile, then getting down to the business of date arranging. Having been asked out, and accepted, I then started the process of when and where we were going to meet. Herein, it seems, lies the problem. Apparently, this is very difficult for grown men to arrange. Two of these conversations ended up fizzling out halfway through arranging a drink. Not a good sign for the future really.

The third one impressed me with the cut of his jib when he simply messaged me ‘cut to the chase – can I take you for a drink?’ No messing about, I thought, how refreshing. We swapped numbers and began texting to finalise details. Then the cancelling began. Firstly, admittedly, it was me. But I was genuine about rearranging. Which we did, four times – and each time he would cancel. This morning I got the classic text (after we’d arranged to meet this Wednesday) saying ‘Hey, I’ve been thinking and I’m not sure I’m ready to date. There’s no point meeting up. Sorry x’ – which is fine….. but prompts the question, WHY in the name of Zeus’s beard are you on a DATING site, actively asking people out?

Tool. Perhaps I should take ‘where is soulmate?’ man up on his offer. If I’m lucky, I might get taken to Wetherspoon’s for a Bacardi Breezer and a packet of Nobby’s nuts.