Days 2 - 4: The Accidental Date

Since I’ve been RIDONCULOUSLY busy over the last few days with my sister visiting, I decided to a very sneaky thing and compress three days together into a post. Please don’t hurt me. I promise to blog individually from hereon.

Days 2, 3 & 4

Friday (Day 2)

11:00am

FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The day of opportunities, wanderlust, coffee catch-ups and accidentally bumping into strangers who may be the next great boyfriend of my life. With said enthusiasm, I head down to the coffee shop to see what jewels of lust and love I can uncover in the mine that is life. Birds are singing, bees are humming, online daters are suffering and I’m a free woman of opportunities!

11:15am

Yeah there are no jewels in that coffee shop. There was a weird mouth-breathing guy who was staring at me with baited breath, but I do think that was a possible medical condition and less to do with any kind of carnal desire to ask me out or converse. He could’ve also had vision impairment preventing him from blinking, in which case, that would’ve been quite presumptuous of me to be flattered by his fixated gaze, as he could’ve merely not been able to remove it medically.

Nonetheless, no coffee shop husband today.

3:00pm

The clock strikes 3pm and my phone goes off. I look down and see the name of a guy I’d been casually seeing a couple of months ago pop up on my screen. I take a deep breath. Lately we’ve been communicating on and off and it’s all a bit confusing. He’s somewhere between a Chad Michael Murray and an Owen Wilson – boy next door with a streak of eccentric weirdness. Feeling empowered and boundary-ified, the night before, I decided to lay down the ‘Where is this going?’ gauntlet on him. The good old, ‘I’m ready for more, I don’t know what you’re ready for, but layeth down my standards now bro.’ routine ensues. I could practically see the panic flash across his face as the message bubble went ‘ploop’ (official iPhone sound effect) and the ‘Delivered’ text appeared. Fortunately he had responded. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly a ‘yes or no’ answer, so I just assumed he’d just disappear into thin air on his own if he wanted to run.

Instead I look down at my phone and see a text clearly seeking emotional support on a personal problem. I should just quit while I’m ahead and become a therapist. At least then I’d make money for all the free advice I serve up all day.

6:00pm

Coming off the back of a full day of work and Chad Michael Wilson Guy’s emotional turmoil, I’m well and truly ready for my 6pm Proseco session with sister and friends. This session turns into a naturally escalated evening of safe, relatively sober fun and we end up at a favourite dingy dumpling joint at 9:30pm in Chinatown. Well worth the effort, but still abysmal on the ‘score yourself’ a date front. Oh well, 3 days in and expecting miracles, this is why I’m single.

More Proseco-aided textual conversation commences with Chad Wilson (shortened it, too many words) and it gets deep, as it often does when it’s Friday night and both parties are sippin’. A lot of discussion, a lot of commitment talk and yet no commitment actually ensues so….where are we again? Oh that’s right, never mind, let’s just keep talking and pretend this conversation never happens. Life.

Saturday (Day 3)

10:45am

TODAY WILL BE THE DAY! The day I meet an amazing man at brunch with the girls. Or out at the bar tonight. MY CONTOUR GAME WILL BE SUPER STRONG. MEN WILL FALL AT MY KURT GEIGERED FEET. I will saunter into the nightclub accompanied by my supermodel sister, her equivalently stunning best friend, our combined BFF who is the real life version of a Greek statue and suddenly, the sea of men will part and bow like in the Katy Perry ‘Dark Horse’ video. Yep. It’ll happen.

3:00pm

Nothing happens at brunch. We end up at the Hard Rock café of all places in Sydney. An absolute abomination to think a local Sydney-sider would want to go there when the endless brunch cafes in Darlinghurst, Surry Hills and Paddington exist. But what can I say? I’m a pretty basic b when it comes to food. Close-by and giant share portions? Yeah, I’m not going further than that. Unfortunately, aside from our very amiable server, Wolf (Wools? Woolz? Woold? Not exactly sure here….) there is less potential in the restaurant than Guatemala’s Got Talent (purely on population alone, I’m sure the Guatemalans are very astute people), it’s a dry land. I keep my eyes peeled, but I know a lost cause when I see one.

10:10pm

We are in theeeee clubbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb. Partayyyyyyyyyyyyy. There’s an amazing band, the vibe is lit (forgive me for using millennial speak, I need the SEO to pick up words like #lit). Cute bartender who has always been cute but does not make any further moves than being cute is working which is a visual win, but doesn’t really help my whole ‘Find Prince Charming Without Online Dating’ scheme. Unless this is a superrrrrrr elaborate long game and I’m supposed to wait until my eggs turn to dust for it to be him. Mama ain’t got that kind of time. I’m keeping my eyes open.

11:30pm

There are some human beings who should be taxed for merely being alive. There are some real creepers around here. Flannel Shirt 1 & 2 are both eyeing my sister like she’s a BBQ brisket. Meanwhile Blue Blazer probably has had less password attempts in his whole life than his current ‘scoring’ attempts. He’s struggling so hard. His go-to move is now jumping on stage every time he wants attention. No buddy, this ain’t vegas.

12:00am

PRAISE HALLELUJAH JESUS – I’VE MET THE ONE. I KNEW MY GOOD VIBES WOULD MEAN GOOD OUTCOMES. I was innocently exiting the lavatory when two guys and a girl were standing outside having a discussion. Random Guy 1 was clearly with Random Girl but Random Guy 2 is very single. I know this because as I walk past he says ‘Oh hey, where are you going?’ and I say ‘Back to da club homie’ (mot verbatim obviously) to which he’s like ‘Oh help us solve this dilemma….’ And BAM, nekk minute, I’m helping them decide something about some gift giving dilemma for someone’s wedding I’ll probably never be invited to.

THEN AS THE DILEMMA WRAPS UP, Random Guy 2 says, ‘Well don’t we talk more and go out sometime?’ AND MY INSIDES SHRIVEL WITH JOY. I DUNST IT. I DID ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. I GOT A DATEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE IN REAL LIFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. IT’S POSSIBLE. DONE. CAN END CHALLENGE. He tells me his name, I add him on Facebook Messenger (because why, I don’t know) and with that, the night becomes a roaring success. I send a message to him to confirm it’s him. We part, end.

Sunday – (Day 4)

8:30am

I awake to the sound of my phone beeping.

‘Message accepted on Facebook.’

YASSSSSSSSSS KWEEN OF SLAY. YOU DID IT. Online Dating – 0, Me – 1.

EXCEPT IT TURNS OUT I ADDED THE WRONG PERSON.

WHY.

SWEET.

BABY.

JESUS.

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Turns out amongst the blinding darkness of the bar and my brain (obviously), I thought it most appropriate to send the wrong dude a request. Poor accidentally added guy sends me a message back apologising for not being the right guy like it’s his fault and wishes me the best in my search, like I’m on a hidden treasure quest. Which let’s be frank, I might as well be given how hidden my chances of finding a date are at this stage. I’m both amused and appalled at myself, but have no choice but to let it go. Sad times.

6:00pm

The rest of the day passes unscrupulously with almost nil chance of meeting anyone useful. I go on a girl-date with an amazing chica from NZ who I met whilst dining at a restaurant and she was waitressing. She’s fun and smart and Carrie Bradshaw’s words ring in my ears about girlfriends being soulmates and men just people we have fun with. Starting to think she wasn’t so off about that.

Chad Wilson hasn’t texted back the whole day, so I can only assume he’s either run for life or gone off to Hollywood to pursue his dreams of being a Z-list actor named Chad Wilson. Oh well, another one bites the dust.

Maybe.

Till tomorrow!

R x