Well sorry I haven’t been on for a while but events have taken a very strange turn!
I do feel rather guilty for my previous post of Ginger Andy because two months later we are an official item!
Yes, for the first time in my life I have not gone for the dark haired, dark haired, tanned Tom Cruise/Colin Firth clone and actually fallen for the personality.
I must admit it took 6 dates before I actually liked him and but the piece de la resistance was last Friday when my shower screen fell off and smashed into a million pieces on the bathroom floor and he spent 3 hours picking up all the glass whilst I had a girly night out at the Black Horse.
He is undergoing a slight, subtle makeover with clothing as most of his wardrobe is Man at C & A and Greenwoods Dad so when he volunteered to pick up a Billy bookcase from IKEA, he was pushed into Gap and Next and is very shortly being officially unveiled at the Chamber of Trade Race Night
I wasn’t even put off when he admitted his previous band was called ‘One Missing’ because the guitarist had a finger missing but alas the latest one, ‘Bad Reputation’ is no more.
Anyhow, the other day I went to a clairvoyant who had been booked before I met Ginger Andy and he is apparently the one so save up for your hats...
I do hope you have enjoyed my short foray into singledom but I guess the moral of the story is not to look at the packaging but to see the person inside which I have been told for years but never actually tried out - so if you see me walking down the street with a slightly gangly, tall, ginger fellow – please take pity and be kind and don’t tell him about my blog!
Wednesday 21 July 2010
Thursday 27 May 2010
Give A Geek A Chance
Sunday 23 May 9.00pm:
I am writing this blog in two parts – this first part is written in a rather optimistic mood pre-date with Ginger Andy. Yes you read that right, Ginger Andy is being given a second chance.
Looking back, during the date I had a lemon face on most of the time and he still kept the mood light and jolly, he has rung me every day even though he got a massive brush off and sends amusing texts during the day – the lad is a trier!
The only danger is he has a lovely telephone voice and his face is a fuzzy, rather forgotten image now. We have arranged to have tea in Barnsley – it is the half way spot, in a little Italian and seeing as it is supposed to be 30c tomorrow – hopefully the waxed jacket will stay at home.
Monday 24 May 23:00:
I had to be nice to him – he produced huge bunch of flowers when I met him and his nose had calmed right down.
We had nice meal and found out until recently he had a morbid fear of eating out and he has only had two girlfriends in his life – the last one went to Australia last year for a two month sabbatical and has never come back.
We came out of restaurant – his bank card worked just fine, and luckily the waxed jacket stayed at home, but the Farah ‘slacks’, checked shirt and suede loafers aka ‘Dad 1976’ did not.
We then went for a drink in his village which was beautiful, and at the end of the night, said our goodbyes in the car park and then he kissed me and do you know what, it was rather nice!
I got an invite to look around the monument in his garden this Sunday as it is the first day it is open to the public. I agreed but was rather concerned today when he said he was painting the bathroom.
‘Why’, I asked?
‘Well I want the house to look nice for your visit.’
Err third date – meet the mother – visit house, not what I had planned.
Fast-forwarding to the 21st century, Single Dad came to shop today and offered to show me his white bits after his holiday next week to Turkey. Now that sounds a better offer!
I am writing this blog in two parts – this first part is written in a rather optimistic mood pre-date with Ginger Andy. Yes you read that right, Ginger Andy is being given a second chance.
Looking back, during the date I had a lemon face on most of the time and he still kept the mood light and jolly, he has rung me every day even though he got a massive brush off and sends amusing texts during the day – the lad is a trier!
The only danger is he has a lovely telephone voice and his face is a fuzzy, rather forgotten image now. We have arranged to have tea in Barnsley – it is the half way spot, in a little Italian and seeing as it is supposed to be 30c tomorrow – hopefully the waxed jacket will stay at home.
Monday 24 May 23:00:
I had to be nice to him – he produced huge bunch of flowers when I met him and his nose had calmed right down.
We had nice meal and found out until recently he had a morbid fear of eating out and he has only had two girlfriends in his life – the last one went to Australia last year for a two month sabbatical and has never come back.
We came out of restaurant – his bank card worked just fine, and luckily the waxed jacket stayed at home, but the Farah ‘slacks’, checked shirt and suede loafers aka ‘Dad 1976’ did not.
We then went for a drink in his village which was beautiful, and at the end of the night, said our goodbyes in the car park and then he kissed me and do you know what, it was rather nice!
I got an invite to look around the monument in his garden this Sunday as it is the first day it is open to the public. I agreed but was rather concerned today when he said he was painting the bathroom.
‘Why’, I asked?
‘Well I want the house to look nice for your visit.’
Err third date – meet the mother – visit house, not what I had planned.
Fast-forwarding to the 21st century, Single Dad came to shop today and offered to show me his white bits after his holiday next week to Turkey. Now that sounds a better offer!
Sunday 16 May 2010
Something Didn’t Happen On The Way To Heaven
The title is a take on a Phil Collins track but as I am probably the only fan in West Yorkshire, I was mightily excited when I received a message on Match.com from Ginger Andy, South Yorkshire’s only fan!
I envisaged discussions on Phil and Chester Thompson’s Drum Duet and the time when Phil entered the MEN Arena in the dark, walking down the stairs and got to the drums just in time for the crescendo for ‘In the Air Tonight'.
Ginger Andy sent lovely long emails – a real effort was put into them. He was a bass player in a band called ‘Bad Reputation’ (cringe!) where he was the youngest member at 47 and ran an ‘environmental company’ and lived in a cottage on a private estate in Wentworth so I had high hopes for the date at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park.
Pachelbel's Canon was rather ambitiously playing on the MP3 in the car and I was advised there were two car parks and of course ended up in the wrong one.
After not being able to find an ‘ugly 6 foot ginger guy in a silver VW’ (his description, not mine!) I rang him for the first time. His voice was manly, deep and friendly and he directed me to the quieter car park and advised me he would wait at the end of the road to direct me in.
Sure enough a tall, ginger bloke was stood at the end of the road and I parked up. He came over and well, his description was rather accurate. Tall, thin, very, very ginger (why don’t ginger people have eyelashes?) with a rather angry case of rhinitis (red nose with pustules) and when he smiled, he had more wrinkles than a pug dog. Ahh, a long three hours.
To his credit he had bought me a parking ticket – how chivalrous! His conversation was good and thoughtful but he had a bizarre habit when telling the punch line of a story- he just stopped dead. I had carried on walking then turned round and had to back track to hear the end.
We got lost in the bluebell wood (better than Saddleworth Moor, see last post) but he just didn’t pass the ‘could I wake up with you’ test. He also smelled like a rubber factory having reproofed his wax jacket that morning – I would much rather have smelled ‘Joop’ floating through the air rather than industrial rubber.
Upon approaching the cafe for a cup of tea, he confessed he had always lived with his mum – AT 47! and had ‘not had hardly any girlfriends’ so the date rather lost its way. Even a fly committed suicide in our milk jug.
Back at the car park, crinkly smiles all round, I knew for the second week, I had to be the ‘dumpee’ – that makes a change!
So I thanked him for his company but thought there wouldn’t be romance on the cards and bid my goodbye and put on ‘Here I Go Again On My Own’ by Whitesnake for the journey home.
I envisaged discussions on Phil and Chester Thompson’s Drum Duet and the time when Phil entered the MEN Arena in the dark, walking down the stairs and got to the drums just in time for the crescendo for ‘In the Air Tonight'.
Ginger Andy sent lovely long emails – a real effort was put into them. He was a bass player in a band called ‘Bad Reputation’ (cringe!) where he was the youngest member at 47 and ran an ‘environmental company’ and lived in a cottage on a private estate in Wentworth so I had high hopes for the date at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park.
Pachelbel's Canon was rather ambitiously playing on the MP3 in the car and I was advised there were two car parks and of course ended up in the wrong one.
After not being able to find an ‘ugly 6 foot ginger guy in a silver VW’ (his description, not mine!) I rang him for the first time. His voice was manly, deep and friendly and he directed me to the quieter car park and advised me he would wait at the end of the road to direct me in.
Sure enough a tall, ginger bloke was stood at the end of the road and I parked up. He came over and well, his description was rather accurate. Tall, thin, very, very ginger (why don’t ginger people have eyelashes?) with a rather angry case of rhinitis (red nose with pustules) and when he smiled, he had more wrinkles than a pug dog. Ahh, a long three hours.
To his credit he had bought me a parking ticket – how chivalrous! His conversation was good and thoughtful but he had a bizarre habit when telling the punch line of a story- he just stopped dead. I had carried on walking then turned round and had to back track to hear the end.
We got lost in the bluebell wood (better than Saddleworth Moor, see last post) but he just didn’t pass the ‘could I wake up with you’ test. He also smelled like a rubber factory having reproofed his wax jacket that morning – I would much rather have smelled ‘Joop’ floating through the air rather than industrial rubber.
Upon approaching the cafe for a cup of tea, he confessed he had always lived with his mum – AT 47! and had ‘not had hardly any girlfriends’ so the date rather lost its way. Even a fly committed suicide in our milk jug.
Back at the car park, crinkly smiles all round, I knew for the second week, I had to be the ‘dumpee’ – that makes a change!
So I thanked him for his company but thought there wouldn’t be romance on the cards and bid my goodbye and put on ‘Here I Go Again On My Own’ by Whitesnake for the journey home.
Saturday 1 May 2010
My date with ‘Peter Kay’...
I really wish this was made up – but it is all totally true...unfortunately
I did promise myself on New Year’s Eve that I would rejoin Match.com if I hadn’t met anyone by my 38th birthday.
Today was that day so GirlieSunflower was brought back to life. I had a slow start, had to block a couple of nutters, but then Mr Financial Advisor got in touch who was from Oldham and sounded just like Peter Kay.
After exchanging messages, texts and phone calls, I arranged to meet this complete stranger by a lake on Saddleworth Moor in the evening. He had passed my usual online checks – 192.com and I had Googled his business and Street Viewed his house - you have to check with online dating!
Mmm first impressions - nice face, better looking than profile (that was a nice surprise), glasses but polo shirt (stripy) and very casual pale blue jeans - not a correct look for a Saturday evening.
We go into the pub and in between chewing his gum, started to chat. He then explained he 'fancied a couple of beers' and was leaving his car in the car park and catching the train back to his mum and dad’s in Manchester. Er so how do we get to the restaurant? 'We'll go in your car' he says. Not happy - we have only just met.
Anyhow chit chat continued and after the drink, we go to my car which surprisingly all 6 foot of him fitted in. 'So which is your car?' I ask. He then scans down the row of cars, spotting a 59 plate Merc and says 'that silver Merc is mine'. Alarm bells ring - you don't leave a Merc in a pub car park near Rochdale but anyway...
We get to the restaurant which was nice but a typical noisy Italian, serving food at hundred miles per hour. We ordered our garlic bread, starters and mains and he ordered a bottle of wine plus a pint of lager.
The conversation was stalling with lots of silences and when I did talk to him, he kept looking around the room. Rude! At 9.30 he asked for the bill and said 'shall we go for another drink'. Well I had already made my mind up that The Spark had failed to make an appearance but just to be polite, agreed.
He fishes a very plain blue Co-op debit card out of wallet. It is processed but the waitress advises him it is out of date. So a second Co-op card is produced which is refused. A third Co-op card is produced and the machine advises the waitress to retain the card.
He is flapping, apologising so I said - 'well let’s go Dutch - I'll put £20 in and you do too'. So we did and made our escape. The waitress was delighted with her 38p tip. He then asks me to drive him to a cash machine which promptly swallows and retains said card. We then went to the pub where he got another pint and I bought my own diet Coke.
We sat down and he says
'You don't want to see me again, do you?’
'No, I feel there is no spark' I said.
After tons of apologies about the money he then says,
'I feel really bad about you having to pay half, I'll put the money in your account on Monday (it's Bank Holiday) if you give me your bank details'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I nearly fell off the chair.
'Er sorry, but I'm not going to do that, just forget it'.
He then said:
'You look really uncomfortable (you don't say!), get yourself off and I'll get on the train with no ticket and if I get stopped, my mum and dad live next door to station and they'll give me some money'.
Yes, right, trains stop all the time just to wait for you to nip home and get some money and come back.
I swiftly got in car, locked doors and watched Peter Kay walk down the street. Phewww!
I of course got a text 30 mins later 'I am a genuine guy, honest!’
I did promise myself on New Year’s Eve that I would rejoin Match.com if I hadn’t met anyone by my 38th birthday.
Today was that day so GirlieSunflower was brought back to life. I had a slow start, had to block a couple of nutters, but then Mr Financial Advisor got in touch who was from Oldham and sounded just like Peter Kay.
After exchanging messages, texts and phone calls, I arranged to meet this complete stranger by a lake on Saddleworth Moor in the evening. He had passed my usual online checks – 192.com and I had Googled his business and Street Viewed his house - you have to check with online dating!
Mmm first impressions - nice face, better looking than profile (that was a nice surprise), glasses but polo shirt (stripy) and very casual pale blue jeans - not a correct look for a Saturday evening.
We go into the pub and in between chewing his gum, started to chat. He then explained he 'fancied a couple of beers' and was leaving his car in the car park and catching the train back to his mum and dad’s in Manchester. Er so how do we get to the restaurant? 'We'll go in your car' he says. Not happy - we have only just met.
Anyhow chit chat continued and after the drink, we go to my car which surprisingly all 6 foot of him fitted in. 'So which is your car?' I ask. He then scans down the row of cars, spotting a 59 plate Merc and says 'that silver Merc is mine'. Alarm bells ring - you don't leave a Merc in a pub car park near Rochdale but anyway...
We get to the restaurant which was nice but a typical noisy Italian, serving food at hundred miles per hour. We ordered our garlic bread, starters and mains and he ordered a bottle of wine plus a pint of lager.
The conversation was stalling with lots of silences and when I did talk to him, he kept looking around the room. Rude! At 9.30 he asked for the bill and said 'shall we go for another drink'. Well I had already made my mind up that The Spark had failed to make an appearance but just to be polite, agreed.
He fishes a very plain blue Co-op debit card out of wallet. It is processed but the waitress advises him it is out of date. So a second Co-op card is produced which is refused. A third Co-op card is produced and the machine advises the waitress to retain the card.
He is flapping, apologising so I said - 'well let’s go Dutch - I'll put £20 in and you do too'. So we did and made our escape. The waitress was delighted with her 38p tip. He then asks me to drive him to a cash machine which promptly swallows and retains said card. We then went to the pub where he got another pint and I bought my own diet Coke.
We sat down and he says
'You don't want to see me again, do you?’
'No, I feel there is no spark' I said.
After tons of apologies about the money he then says,
'I feel really bad about you having to pay half, I'll put the money in your account on Monday (it's Bank Holiday) if you give me your bank details'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I nearly fell off the chair.
'Er sorry, but I'm not going to do that, just forget it'.
He then said:
'You look really uncomfortable (you don't say!), get yourself off and I'll get on the train with no ticket and if I get stopped, my mum and dad live next door to station and they'll give me some money'.
Yes, right, trains stop all the time just to wait for you to nip home and get some money and come back.
I swiftly got in car, locked doors and watched Peter Kay walk down the street. Phewww!
I of course got a text 30 mins later 'I am a genuine guy, honest!’
Monday 19 April 2010
GirlieSunflower is resurrected!
This is supposed to be a dating blog but there is just the small matter of no dates since 22 December and it is nearly the end of April so things needed to change...
Against my better judgment, I accepted the offer of a date from Numpty - my on and off ex of 14 years. We spent Date 1 at a very nice Italian restaurant, opting to take a taxi rather than go in his Postman Pat gardening van. Date 2 was a night in watching the tv, wine and cheesecake and Date 3 was a romantic walk on the canal at Hebden Bridge with his dog/only friend. I am aware that my friends now want to kill me as I have not disclosed this liaison.
I drove in my Pensioner Wagon (aka Ford Fusion) and noted lack of dog. ‘I don’t want you to meet him just yet’ was the response. Not a good start. He tutted whilst I eased the Pensioner Wagon into the only remaining very small parking space in Hebden Bridge – I’d only ‘straightened it up’ four times – problem?
We went for a panini and then went to the Flea Market – god that’s been going for years and is still full of the same old tat and then strolled on the canal. He had paled a little in the cafe when I mentioned it was my birthday in 13 days time.
I wanted to walk to Todmorden but just after the hippies boat commune he started whinging his Windsor Warehouse white trainers were dirty and the conversation was wilting. I askd ‘how do you get by in the winter when there’s no work then?’ bearing in mind Numpty was one of my numerous financial donkeys and I am keen to avoid such like in the future. ‘Oh no you’re still money mad’ (what? eh? sorry? I’ve missed something here) ‘this isn’t working’ he said. We then drove home in silence and well, we have not dated since – not that I’m particularly sorry.
So never mind, I did what every rejected girl does and ordered all singing, all dancing jazzy white new Ford Ka which doesn’t fit any man over 5’ 9” – not yet arrived, still being made in Italy. I also turned down the personalised last three letters option on the reg plate – I mean I’d have to marry someone with the surname ‘S’ and the pool is already small enough without locating single, gorgeous men with the surname ‘S....’.
I then had a pre-birthday dinner with my two lovely, dependable single friends. So there we are in Aldo’s – lovely food, lovely wine, lovely people when friend #1 announces he’d had a date with a girl of his dreams and she had invited him to a wedding in two months time ON THE FIRST DATE!. ‘Errm didn’t that scare you?’ I asked. ‘No I liked it’ he said. Friend #2 showed my pic of lush new bloke who said she ‘was awesome’ so there I was sat with two smuggers and I now have no single friends left so there is only one thing for it...
Tonight I logged on Match.com, resurrected GirlieSunflower, changed the pictures and within 2 mins had 3 views, 2 winks and 1 email from ‘Rikstar from Huddersfield’ – the girl is back – get in!!!
Against my better judgment, I accepted the offer of a date from Numpty - my on and off ex of 14 years. We spent Date 1 at a very nice Italian restaurant, opting to take a taxi rather than go in his Postman Pat gardening van. Date 2 was a night in watching the tv, wine and cheesecake and Date 3 was a romantic walk on the canal at Hebden Bridge with his dog/only friend. I am aware that my friends now want to kill me as I have not disclosed this liaison.
I drove in my Pensioner Wagon (aka Ford Fusion) and noted lack of dog. ‘I don’t want you to meet him just yet’ was the response. Not a good start. He tutted whilst I eased the Pensioner Wagon into the only remaining very small parking space in Hebden Bridge – I’d only ‘straightened it up’ four times – problem?
We went for a panini and then went to the Flea Market – god that’s been going for years and is still full of the same old tat and then strolled on the canal. He had paled a little in the cafe when I mentioned it was my birthday in 13 days time.
I wanted to walk to Todmorden but just after the hippies boat commune he started whinging his Windsor Warehouse white trainers were dirty and the conversation was wilting. I askd ‘how do you get by in the winter when there’s no work then?’ bearing in mind Numpty was one of my numerous financial donkeys and I am keen to avoid such like in the future. ‘Oh no you’re still money mad’ (what? eh? sorry? I’ve missed something here) ‘this isn’t working’ he said. We then drove home in silence and well, we have not dated since – not that I’m particularly sorry.
So never mind, I did what every rejected girl does and ordered all singing, all dancing jazzy white new Ford Ka which doesn’t fit any man over 5’ 9” – not yet arrived, still being made in Italy. I also turned down the personalised last three letters option on the reg plate – I mean I’d have to marry someone with the surname ‘S’ and the pool is already small enough without locating single, gorgeous men with the surname ‘S....’.
I then had a pre-birthday dinner with my two lovely, dependable single friends. So there we are in Aldo’s – lovely food, lovely wine, lovely people when friend #1 announces he’d had a date with a girl of his dreams and she had invited him to a wedding in two months time ON THE FIRST DATE!. ‘Errm didn’t that scare you?’ I asked. ‘No I liked it’ he said. Friend #2 showed my pic of lush new bloke who said she ‘was awesome’ so there I was sat with two smuggers and I now have no single friends left so there is only one thing for it...
Tonight I logged on Match.com, resurrected GirlieSunflower, changed the pictures and within 2 mins had 3 views, 2 winks and 1 email from ‘Rikstar from Huddersfield’ – the girl is back – get in!!!
Thursday 18 March 2010
Let me introduce you all to ‘Numpty’
Those who have known me for a few years will know exactly who this character is. He is also known as ‘Jackanory’, ‘Marrow’, ‘Tosser’, ‘Billy Liar’ and ‘Village Idiot’ by various friends and colleagues.
His rite of passage was 1995 – 2008 (on and off). We were engaged twice though I only have one engagement ring as I sold the first for a Dyson vacuum and after our last parting, I hoped our paths would not cross until last Saturday...
I was picking up some groceries in Tesco when Mum phoned. ‘Get back to the shop, there’s something here for you’ she said breathlessly. I hot-footed it down Albion Street in excitement and when I burst through the door, there was a woman standing with a huge bunch of flowers – all lilies and roses and those rather obscene, suggestive orchid things.
‘Oh gosh, are they for me?’ and ripped open the rather tasteful black calling card, hands shaking a bit. Are they from Single Dad, Robbie Williams or the Gardener, or, oh no God forbid – the Dog Collar Man from Oxfam who has taken a fancy to me?
As soon as the note fell out, I recognised the writing. Bloody Numpty – ah well, lovely flowers, won’t waste them. He walks his dog/only friend past my house every day so I displayed them in the window as an acknowledgement.
We now go forward to Tuesday when Strict Woman Who Once Worked At Lloyds TSB came in. She’s a bit scary but a good customer. We make general chit-chat then she says:
‘Beautiful flowers you had delivered on Saturday’.
‘Yes, just a shame who they were from – my slimy ex'.
‘Is he not nice?’
‘Nah – he’s a right womanising, cheating, lying turd – he sniffs round every couple of years but this time, no way’ I retorted and cut the ham off the bone with a triumphant flourish and a defiant thrust of the chin. ‘I could write a book on him, but I won’t bore you’.
‘The problem is... he’s been dating my sister in law for a year’.
Cue rolling of small bale of hay and awkward silence...
‘Oh shit – I had no idea of the connection’.
‘No you won’t do but I need to talk to my husband about this and HEADS WILL ROLL!
Isn’t it fab when you wait for years for righteousness and it finally happens?
Other happenings – I got an email from Match.com ‘Girliesunflower we are missing you – look at the fabulous men on offer in West Yorkshire’ and out of the thousands of men in offer, Single Dad was one of the six featured but he still hasn’t got back to me about when we are going on the date.
The only other thrill I had this week was visiting a bodybuilding gym with one of my male friends – I was the only girl with 30 sweaty men – only £20 a month and this is actually cheaper than Match.com so should I gym it or Match.com it again?
His rite of passage was 1995 – 2008 (on and off). We were engaged twice though I only have one engagement ring as I sold the first for a Dyson vacuum and after our last parting, I hoped our paths would not cross until last Saturday...
I was picking up some groceries in Tesco when Mum phoned. ‘Get back to the shop, there’s something here for you’ she said breathlessly. I hot-footed it down Albion Street in excitement and when I burst through the door, there was a woman standing with a huge bunch of flowers – all lilies and roses and those rather obscene, suggestive orchid things.
‘Oh gosh, are they for me?’ and ripped open the rather tasteful black calling card, hands shaking a bit. Are they from Single Dad, Robbie Williams or the Gardener, or, oh no God forbid – the Dog Collar Man from Oxfam who has taken a fancy to me?
As soon as the note fell out, I recognised the writing. Bloody Numpty – ah well, lovely flowers, won’t waste them. He walks his dog/only friend past my house every day so I displayed them in the window as an acknowledgement.
We now go forward to Tuesday when Strict Woman Who Once Worked At Lloyds TSB came in. She’s a bit scary but a good customer. We make general chit-chat then she says:
‘Beautiful flowers you had delivered on Saturday’.
‘Yes, just a shame who they were from – my slimy ex'.
‘Is he not nice?’
‘Nah – he’s a right womanising, cheating, lying turd – he sniffs round every couple of years but this time, no way’ I retorted and cut the ham off the bone with a triumphant flourish and a defiant thrust of the chin. ‘I could write a book on him, but I won’t bore you’.
‘The problem is... he’s been dating my sister in law for a year’.
Cue rolling of small bale of hay and awkward silence...
‘Oh shit – I had no idea of the connection’.
‘No you won’t do but I need to talk to my husband about this and HEADS WILL ROLL!
Isn’t it fab when you wait for years for righteousness and it finally happens?
Other happenings – I got an email from Match.com ‘Girliesunflower we are missing you – look at the fabulous men on offer in West Yorkshire’ and out of the thousands of men in offer, Single Dad was one of the six featured but he still hasn’t got back to me about when we are going on the date.
The only other thrill I had this week was visiting a bodybuilding gym with one of my male friends – I was the only girl with 30 sweaty men – only £20 a month and this is actually cheaper than Match.com so should I gym it or Match.com it again?
Monday 8 March 2010
Dateless in Liversedge
My sole aim for the week was to get a date. How hard can that be? Well, dear reader, I hope you will concur that I could not have tried much harder...
It was my weekend with small boy which slightly curtailed my activities so I decided to visit Eureka with him on Sunday – the hotbed of single dads. Ben liked it a lot and called it Ulrika. The highlight of the day was when we went onto the railway platform adjacent to Ulrika and was invited onto a train by a Peter Kay sound-alike to ‘look at his train’. After a cheery wave, he departed for Manchester.
After allowing my parents the sheer joy of looking after a hyperactive four year old for the night, I met my gorgeous ex from 20 years ago. He picked me up in his tranny van and we went to the local Italian for the Early Bird. En route he purchases a bottle of wine from Londis so I knew the night would be good.
We were shown to a large table for four so I was directed to a seat opposite him. After all, he wouldn’t want people to think we were actually ‘together’.
Once back at his house, the rather large and jealous female Alsatian dog sits between us all night. ‘She really likes you’ he says. I come home covered in doggy dribble.
We also have differing senses of humour – I was giggling like a loon on ITV3 at Mr Bean – the one where he is on the diving board and then the one where he drives out of the car park in the green mini without paying. I am chuckling like a schoolgirl but he never laughs once. I don’t outstay my welcome and phone a taxi at 10pm, hoping to leave him wanting more.
Monday – a double date, firstly at the local Christian play gym – yes I am a good girl at heart. A geriatric, married 60 year old plonks himself next to me and that was about it so in the evening I decided to meet old faithful Bald Football Head from the gym.
As I entered the Spinning Class, I failed to notice the ‘we are having problems with our YEDL supply’ so I endured a Spinning Class in complete darkness with only a multicoloured flashing disco bulb at the rear. Rather like an illegal rave in a warehouse in 1993 on exercise bikes.
No sign of Bald Football Head but it is black so I can’t actually see anyone. Sit down with my sweat towel (ok it’s one of Ben’s old terry towelling nappies but who knows)? At the end we all file out blindly and Football Head is in front with a new girl and pretends not to see me. Didn’t fancy you anyway Shiny Red Football Head.
Other action – the only friend request this week on FB was from a dog. An actual dog.
Tuesday – Single Dad braves it back to the shop. We make polite small talk. ‘Good weekend?’ I ask. ‘Interesting’ he says. He also comes to shop on Friday but I was at DDH having my head scanned as I have hormone problems with my pituary gland. He doesn’t need to know this at this stage.
Saturday - gets huge bunch of flowers at shop - only problem they were from Numpty who I certainly don't want to re-acquaint with again.
So sod it, Saturday night, I had a fab night out with my friend and her family. We had curry and champagne in the local Indian and then to t’club for cheap drinks and a dance. Average age 61 but bearing in mind I had to check my phone next day to see what time I phoned the taxi, it must have been good evening.
Pray for better action this week please. Plastic Peg from the Sun today said ‘Aries you will have love visiting at 7pm this evening’. F**ker didn’t turn up.
PS – not my copy, I am a Daily Mail reader – The Sun was borrowed.
It was my weekend with small boy which slightly curtailed my activities so I decided to visit Eureka with him on Sunday – the hotbed of single dads. Ben liked it a lot and called it Ulrika. The highlight of the day was when we went onto the railway platform adjacent to Ulrika and was invited onto a train by a Peter Kay sound-alike to ‘look at his train’. After a cheery wave, he departed for Manchester.
After allowing my parents the sheer joy of looking after a hyperactive four year old for the night, I met my gorgeous ex from 20 years ago. He picked me up in his tranny van and we went to the local Italian for the Early Bird. En route he purchases a bottle of wine from Londis so I knew the night would be good.
We were shown to a large table for four so I was directed to a seat opposite him. After all, he wouldn’t want people to think we were actually ‘together’.
Once back at his house, the rather large and jealous female Alsatian dog sits between us all night. ‘She really likes you’ he says. I come home covered in doggy dribble.
We also have differing senses of humour – I was giggling like a loon on ITV3 at Mr Bean – the one where he is on the diving board and then the one where he drives out of the car park in the green mini without paying. I am chuckling like a schoolgirl but he never laughs once. I don’t outstay my welcome and phone a taxi at 10pm, hoping to leave him wanting more.
Monday – a double date, firstly at the local Christian play gym – yes I am a good girl at heart. A geriatric, married 60 year old plonks himself next to me and that was about it so in the evening I decided to meet old faithful Bald Football Head from the gym.
As I entered the Spinning Class, I failed to notice the ‘we are having problems with our YEDL supply’ so I endured a Spinning Class in complete darkness with only a multicoloured flashing disco bulb at the rear. Rather like an illegal rave in a warehouse in 1993 on exercise bikes.
No sign of Bald Football Head but it is black so I can’t actually see anyone. Sit down with my sweat towel (ok it’s one of Ben’s old terry towelling nappies but who knows)? At the end we all file out blindly and Football Head is in front with a new girl and pretends not to see me. Didn’t fancy you anyway Shiny Red Football Head.
Other action – the only friend request this week on FB was from a dog. An actual dog.
Tuesday – Single Dad braves it back to the shop. We make polite small talk. ‘Good weekend?’ I ask. ‘Interesting’ he says. He also comes to shop on Friday but I was at DDH having my head scanned as I have hormone problems with my pituary gland. He doesn’t need to know this at this stage.
Saturday - gets huge bunch of flowers at shop - only problem they were from Numpty who I certainly don't want to re-acquaint with again.
So sod it, Saturday night, I had a fab night out with my friend and her family. We had curry and champagne in the local Indian and then to t’club for cheap drinks and a dance. Average age 61 but bearing in mind I had to check my phone next day to see what time I phoned the taxi, it must have been good evening.
Pray for better action this week please. Plastic Peg from the Sun today said ‘Aries you will have love visiting at 7pm this evening’. F**ker didn’t turn up.
PS – not my copy, I am a Daily Mail reader – The Sun was borrowed.
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