4 July (part 2)
Jewish finally called at 1.40pm. I missed the call as I was already on the ‘phone. He wanted to know what the ‘plan’ is for tonight. I didn’t call him back.
He then texted.
‘Hi babe. Tried to ring earlier. Still on for later? X’
Am I f***.
‘Hey! Sorry no i didnt think we were going out so have plans.x’
He called straight back. I didn’t pick up. I listened to the message. He sounded a touch exasperated. Now you know how I feel sunshine.
‘Hun I thought when we said we would be going out on Saturday we would see each other. I didn’t call yesterday as I went straight to the concert. Would you call me back so we can arrange another time?’
I’m now sitting in at home. Feeling awful. It shouldn’t be like this. I’m not convinced he’s the nice guy I thought he was. This was supposed to be our third date and he’s already taking me for granted.
If he calls again I’ll give him another chance. Natch I’ll be super sweet about it. One of Jessica’s friend’s mother’s is a relationship counsellor. The professional advice, I kid you not, is men are like dogs and have to be treated as such. Jeepers.
To think I was considering having sex with him tonight.
Rule 26: A man is as good as his word. If he doesn’t call when he says he is going to he is no good. Don’t date a no-good man
Rule 27: If you treat men like dogs you can’t go far wrong. Reward them for good behavour and punish them for bad behaviour
4 July (part 1)
I call Jessica in a tizz.
‘I don’t understand it. He was super keen… contact, contact, contact. Now nothing.’
‘It is a bit strange.’
‘This has upset me.’
‘I’d text him to find out if I’m going out with him tonight and say I have other plans if not. I’m not saying that’s what you should do.’
‘I’m not contacting him.’
‘No.’
‘If he doesn’t contact you by 12.00pm don’t go out with him.’
‘I’m not going to.’
‘The Old Man texted me last night.’
‘Oh my God!’
‘It’s about the third time. I keep ignoring him.’
‘He must have enjoyed himself.’
3 July
Phew. A text has just come in. I’ve been feeling gutted. Jewish texted me yesterday morning and said he would ‘call later’. He didn’t. Still a day later’s better than nothing.
‘U not speaking to me then ?’
For f***’s sake. It’s The Old Man. He must be sitting in on his own feeling sorry for himself. Join the club.
1 July (part 2)
I have a boyfriend! He’s really nice. He did text to confirm so I met him at Clapham North. It’s a lovely part of town. We had drinks, dinner then went back to his place. He has a lovely pad. We had a ‘canoodle’ but nothing ‘rude’. He wanted me to stay but didn’t push it. ‘I’m a gentleman’ he said. He has tattoos. It really goes against the grain. He is well spoken, professional. He’d love it if I got one too. They’re on his arms. His beautiful, muscly arms. His whole body is great. And he’s so good looking. I just know he likes me. Well, I think he does.
‘I can’t believe this. You’re sooo nice. I’m going to recommend it to all my friends,’ he said on internet dating.
‘You’ll have to stay here,’ on me possibly going back to work in Islington to ease my commute.
‘I really don’t want you to go,’ on me renting out my flat and going travelling.
‘You’re lovely,’ on, well, me.
‘You’re gorgeous,’ on me again.
‘You’ll have to stay here,’ on me complaining about the ridiculously long commute if I go back to work at that agency in Islington.
‘I call people “hun” or “babe” so I don’t get anyone’s name wrong,’ on me telling him I spotted a woman who interviewed me but hid because I couldn’t remember her name. Those alarm bells are ringing again.
We’re going out again on Saturday. I’m torn. I want to have sex with him. But know it’s too soon. Then again I’m supposed to be trying to not be lead so much by rules. I’m going to get my bikini line sorted. Just in case.
1 July (part 1)
Remix. I think Jewish is actually a bastard.
‘Morning baby! I have taken the pm off today and so will be able to relax for later. We can still meet in w end if you like or we can do clapham or near yours. I have a few things to do but can meet you about 5ish? What do you think? X’
I think you are manouvering for a shag. And I thought you were a nice boy.
‘Nice! Am showing someone flat at four so can in parsons green at five or prob later if clapham.’
He should come to Fulham. He should make the effort. He should act like a gentleman. Let’s see what he comes back with.
‘Really? Wow! What if they like it? Well shall we do clapham around 6ish? There are loads of places here to eat. X’
Great. So he’s lazy. Plus side. I may get to see the pad. I promise not to shag him. And he is agitated at the prospect of me leaving the country.
‘Ok what station?’
‘Clapham north or clapham common whichever easier. X’
Same as The Lawyer. Note he is still signing off with a big kiss despite my no kisses stand. I’m not going to reply.
‘Baby! Running slightly late, can we make it 7ish? X’
Unbelievable! I am livid. Wants me to go over to him and now is moving my slot around again. I call Jessica. I don’t want to do anything I’m going to regret. She doesn’t pick up. F*** it. She has told me to be myself. And I am princessy. He’ll totally get it being a Jew and all.
‘Lets resched when more convenient’
Now f*** off and find someone else to screw.
‘No don’t be silly, I will be done by 6 just wanted a few mins to have a shower. I will get a move on and get back earlier. X’
That is the best response ever. He knows how to handle me. Totally difused. I’m now smiling. He is a nice guy after all. I’m so glad I made a stand though. It’s always best to set a precedent right from the beginning. I think this could work! I’m not going to reply. He’s going to have to send me another text to confirm. And if he doesn’t…
28 June (part 2)
My ‘phone bleeps.
‘Oi u ! Was it something I said ?!’
I have mixed feelings. A slight smugness that he has, as predicted, given it yet another bash. Slightly affronted that he doesn’t regard me as one deserving of an actual call. And, finally, amused at his arrogance that it’s something he has done rather than him inherently that has made me not interested. Men. Or rather, one Old Man.
About
‘When I grow up I’m going to marry a prince, Granny.’
Fast forward 27 years. I’m a hot, successful, kind and affectionate, officially ‘grown up’ girl-about-town. Still in search of The One. It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m in bed. Alone. Tanked up on Valium.
The quest has been active now for the best part of 20 years. I know he’s out there. I just need to find out where and how to find him. Things have got to change.
This is going to be my year. I just know it. So I have decided to document my experiences to amuse more than anything else. In so doing, the creative process may provide some kind of personal enlightenment and help face my demons too. And who knows. The journey may lead me to my prince. And where the chronicles begin.
