Chronicles of a Serial Dater

I’m sitting across the table having lunch with the skinny gay judge on Strictly Come Dancing.  At least that’s who he looks and sounds like.  He didn’t come across like that during my screening call.

He’s fun, entertaining and makes me laugh.  He’s another from the broadsheet dating site.  An advertising guru.  And he’s stylish.   But, not good looking, has a receding hairline and, I can spot this a mile off for obvious reasons, has some kind of eating disorder.  He is super skinny.  Well he goes to the gym every day and wants to be ‘thin’.  He gets up at 5.15am in order to fit this in. 

‘What do you do?’ I ask.

‘Cardio every day except for Tuesdays and Thursday when I work on abs.’

‘Every day?  Wow.’

‘Mmm.’

‘Don’t you do weights?’

‘No, I’m not built for that.  Too slim…’

‘Well, you wouldn’t be if you cut down on the cardio!’  (I may or may not have said this out loud.)

Is he nuts?  When did men start aspiring to be ‘thin’?  My second in recent months.  The first was The Arab.  And when did men start having eating disorders?  High acheivers.  It’s in the blood.  Don’t feel good enough.   He is.  But not for me.

He must be coked up.  A bit early, it’s only midday, even for an ad guy for this kind of shenangians surely?  He’s rambling ten to the dozen and makes reference to various characters, in his various funny anecdotes ‘speeding of their face’.  As only the drugged up do.

A corker, although not overtly drug related, was his being propositioned by a huge African woman in a green ball gown on the tube.

‘What did she say?’ I ask.

‘It’s not what she said.  It was a gesture.’

‘Oh my God!  What?’

‘Umm… no… maybe another time.’

‘No!  What did she do?’

He pushes his tongue back in forth into the side of his cheek whilst motioning rubbing notes together in his hand.  I laugh hysterically.  It’s so funny!

‘In true British style I said “Thank you very much but I’ve got this barbecue to go to…”‘

I laugh loudly again.

‘She asked if I would take her out for dinner later… said “I’ll pay.  I have money”‘.

‘What was the point?  Surely she should have wanted you to pay.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Did anyone see?’

‘The whole carriage was trying not to laugh out loud.  All I could see was their shoulders shaking up and down.’

We are in a lovely tapas restaurant in London Bridge.  He is very entertaining.  He also has spinach on his teeth.  I don’t tell him.  I’m monitoring it.  Hoping it will naturally be consumed as he eats other dishes.  Phew, it’s gone.  I just hate that.  I have a special peppercorn-slash-sesame-seed catcher between my two front teeth so spend all dinner dates sucking my teeth and praying it’s clear.

Even if  I wanted to I couldn’t have sex with him.  I’d snap him in half.  I find it useful to think in these terms.  He told me his female friends screen his potentials.

‘I should do that!  My male friends give the best advice.  The girls want me to give the benefit of the doubt.’

‘What, do you go for the same type?’

‘Ooh, I don’t know.  Do I go for a type?’

‘Well, obviously not slackers!’

‘No!’

I then give him a small example of when boys got it spot on.  The Entrepreneur not wanting to spend the whole weekend with me.  The boys said straight away he was out with another girl.

‘Anyone out with you should be playing their A-game.’  Oh.  If only he weren’t anorexic, ugly and gay.  He’d be perfect.

Rule 28: Can you picture yourself having sex with your date?  If not, think twice about seeing him again.  Chemistry is required for successful relationships on all levels.