Chronicles of a Serial Dater

The night of another date that wasn’t.

I’m supposed to be going out with this guy I met on the site for the rich and goodlooking.  My antennai shot up when he wanted to change the date to tonight instead of Friday because he had to go to Spain for work.  As he gave me a few days notice I accommodated.

He suggested 6.30pm at The Crazy Bear Goodge Street.  Strange time.  Didn’t sit well with me but, again, I’ll go with it.  Maybe he wants to start early to spend more time getting to know me.

He confirmed at 3.30pm.  Good lad.  I still haven’t spoken to him though.

But this has just come in.

‘Excellent – see you there.  I have to leave by 10pm to let friends into my flat – just so you don’t think I’m running off early! x’

I debate a response for… a whole 30 seconds.

‘That doesnt work for me.  Im going to give it a miss.’

‘Are you sure?  I told them I’d be back by 11 to let them in – apologies didn’t mean to mess things around.  I’d still love to meet? x’

At least he recognised he’s messing me, or as he says ‘ things’, around.  Twice now and we have even met.  And why on earth would he arrange to leave a date at 10pm?  So much for wanting to spend extra time getting to know me.  I think he knew well in advance he was going to do this hence the early start time.  It’s very likely he’s meeting another girl too.  Ooh, just so much wrong with all of this.  Beware.  Remember Jewish?

He then calls.  OMG.  Nail in the coffin.  A really unattractive northern accent.  You know I LIKE accents.  This is an apologetic, weak voice that happens to have a northern accent.  Of course, I don’t answer.  He leaves a message.  He still wants to meet if not tonight another time.  I’m sure he does.  Well, I don’t.  Messer.  Selfish.  I wasn’t really interested to start with…