Dating does not get easier as you get older. That said, the joy of age and wisdom is the ability to take the piss out of yourself and the whole strange ritual, because that’s what dating is – a ritual of sorts.
I’ve been doing this dating dance for a long ass time, and boy do I have some hilarious date stories. Naked Guy, Mr Cry Baby, Mr Marriage…
I feel there are nine stages of a first date, and I’m here to share them with you…
You’ve asked him out…he replies YES! That means I might have something to tell people when they patronisingly tilt their head and say “still single?”
Trying on every SINGLE ITEM OF CLOTHING you own before settling on your first choice!
Arrive at the bar, he’s no where to be seen…cue every single negative wildly ridiculous thought goes through your mind, including but not limited to; he walked in saw you and left, decided he couldn’t be arsed, got hit by a bus on the way, is married!
Panic over. He arrives and isn’t a troll/ogre/deep v t shirt wearing pretty boy. Phew!
Realise that to calm your nerves/make you more hilarious you simply must drink…drink…drink…
Ok so maybe he isn’t that cool, even though I asked him about his job, he’s been talking about alternators and WWE for the last 20 minutes and my glass is empty. Where’s the nearest exit?
After sharing and caring for 3 hours you make your excuses and leave, knowing full well you need to be heading home early enough to dissect the date with your best mate and be back in time for How To Get Away With Murder…
He doesn’t text…nothing, not a word for 4 days, then he’s all “hey guuurl i’ve been so busy, what you doing? Wanna hang?” It’s 11pm on a Tuesday and no, I don’t want to ‘hang’
Three days later, he replies “no worries, to be honest I only dated you cos I felt sorry for you!” Or hurty-ego words to that effect. Farewell dickhead.
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