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!
Thursday, 27 May 2010
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!’
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