Last week I had more dates than hot dinners = FACT. Slutty, and skinny. I’m so Taylor Momsen right now (why are all the people I relate to depressed 16-year-olds who play angry teenagers in American TV shows? It’s so embarrassing.).
The reason for this dating plethora is that, in a moment of post-festival comedown, I signed up to a dating site – one which many of my friends are on and had recommended as being ‘full of hotties’. It was actually quite fun making my profile, namely because I am self-obsessed and enjoyed answering questions about myself , such as ‘what adjectives apply to you?’ – AWESOMENESS – and ‘what qualities are most important to you? – ‘BUNS OF STEEL’. Though some of the questions were real thinkers , i.e. ‘what’s better, the carrot or the stick?’ Does anyone know what this means? What do carrots have to do with anything? That was a thinker. I was also asked to define my style, but given the best option was ‘my style is fresh from the city streets’ (what am I, The Fresh Prince?), I neglected to answer this, as well as ‘what sports do you play?’ (ability to hula-hoop throughout the whole of Hollyoaks was not listed as an option).
I wasn’t expecting a great response, but hi-ho, the world is full of perverts and soon I found myself inundated by emails, mostly from 50-year old Asian men (‘ur funny!’), 40 year olds who were frankly punching above their weight and Italian men sending me poems about my eye (‘che bella patatina che sei!’). I was temporarily freaked out, but decided to set up some dates with the best of the bunch after some riveting email chat ‘you like Fleetwood Mac? OMG ME TOO!’
It was a crazy week. Here are some things I learned:
1: Pessimism is key – if people are unattractive in their photos, do not assume it was taken from a bad angle. They probably have a neck rug (did you know these exist? I never until now realised that mean could grow full beards ON THEIR NECKS. This has taken my neck phobia to new heights of horror).
2: For God’s sake, PESSIMISM IS KEY! ‘A few pounds overweight’ does NOT mean ’2 pounds’; it means professional pie-muncher.
3: Germans really do say ‘ya?’ after every sentence. Also, wear denim blazers.
4) Americans do not get irony and this can lead to embarrassing misunderstandings and painful apologies “I was joking! I know you don’t fancy men! Your butt is just fine! It’s Lovely!” etc, etc.
So a week later, I’m exhausted. I still have one dude’s keys which he has not yet asked back for (is he staying on the streets? Either way, it doesn’t bode well). I’m totally wiped out, yet discovering I am number ten most popular lady on the site has brought out my secret competitive streak (I can’t leave until I am NUMBER ONE). It’s like a horrible new addiction to lie about on the site (“Drinking? I enjoy the occasional Martini, but that’s all. Smoking? Only at barmitzvahs). But after this next one, I’ll quit. I swear it.
