Dear Mum, in the unlikely event that you’ve found your way back to my blogs on my website, please look away now, this one isn’t for you. Trust me on this, it will make your hair curl and given that you’ve had poker straight hair forever, that means it’s bad, look away now!
Okay, so on the understanding that Mum isn’t reading this (nor Dad by proxy as he’s blind), I’m going to share a few of my really awful date stories and why being single isn’t such a bad choice.
This episode features a man whom I will kindly call The Teddy Bear, TTB – he was (and presumably still in) a little rotund, rather cuddly and had a bit of an inane grin like Winnie the Pooh.
I initially met TTB the old-fashioned way in a coffee shop. It was a bank holiday Monday when I’d been gripped by DIY fever but realised that I didn’t have the necessary Polyfilla to finish the job. I’d decided to combine getting my 10,000 steps in with a stomp into town to the DIY store and then decided to reward myself with a cuppa and a bun at the newly opened coffee shop on the way back.
I was sat by the window, where most well behaved singletons sit for fear of taking up a whole table when a table for one is what is really required. TTB came in, ordered at the counter and sat down at the singles bar near me and we nodded politely – you know, like you do when you want to be polite, but don’t particularly want to engage.
TBB was obviously known there as the waitress soon arrived and they had a chat about his choice of cake. As he helped himself to his calorific treat, he looked at me sheepishly and started to make excuses. He was amusing and we struck up a conversation.
He asked me what I did for a living and in these instances, I usually keep it short and just say I work in Marketing as people invariably assume it’s advertising and I can’t usually be bothered to explain it’s not and what exactly I do do for a living. Sure enough he opened up his wallet and asked me what I thought about the logo on his business card. It was pretty basic so when he proudly told me that he had done it himself, I smiled and said I thought so – with a cheeky wink.
He had the good nature to laugh, so I asked him what the company was as the name didn’t give it away. He was in construction which was quite handy as he then went on to give me tips on how to fill the hole in my wall with my newly acquired Polyfilla. As I made to leave, he made me promise to text him a photo of my efforts which I did and this led to him asking me out for a walk one Sunday morning, down by the river.
We had a nice time and a couple of other dates followed then he offered to cook me dinner at his place (I’d already explained that I’ve given up cooking and mainly use my oven for storage). Dinner was lovely and he didn’t try to jump my bones, so I gave him top marks for being a gentleman. A few more dates and cooked meals followed when I decided I should repay the gesture and booked us a meal at a swanky restaurant to say thanks. Up until this point, TTB had always been a true gentleman and although we’d had a little snog here and there, nothing had gone beyond that. He was a few years older than me, so I thought physical romance wasn’t top of his priorities.
I was beginning to realise that he was keener on me than me on him, but as we were having a nice time, and being an eternal optimist, I thought he might ‘grow’ on me, so I was happy to go out and have fun. [Note to any other optimists out there, if ‘it’ whatever ‘it’ is, isn’t there after the first couple of dates, give up, ‘it’ is never going to happen, so either make that clear and explain friendship is all you have to offer, or cut and run: believe me, I know].
Our date meal arrived and as I was driving, I offered to pick him up, but he said he would meet me there. When I arrived, he’d already found the table and ordered a drink. The food was lovely although TTB seemed a little tense and sullen, but the 5 glasses of red wine seemed to soothe him (I just had the one as I was driving, so had the 6th). We walked back to the car park and conversation was a little stilted.
He’d tried to take my hand a few times, but as I was beginning to regret not telling him sooner that the romance thing wasn’t going to happen, I just kept my hands in my coat pockets. I was more than a little taken aback when, on getting into the car, he asked if I wanted to stay the night.
Now, I usually park under the brightest lights I can for safety reasons and on this occasion, it meant I could clearly see him.
Before I could say anything, he spread his legs as far as my car would allow and moved his crotch up, and pointed to his man package. Now, I’m no prude, but man packages aren’t the most attractive things and as we were both mature adults, offering me up his man package in the carpark was never going to light my fire. He looked at me, as proud as punch with what he’d managed to develop.
You know, like a cat looks at you when they drag in a half-dead bird or mouse and present it at your feet, their face saying look mummy, look how brave, courageous and clever I am, I’ve got you a present!
For once I was struck dumb, so taking my silence for interest, he started stroking his crotch and suggested that I should join in which awoke me from my stupor. I yelled at him to stop, that we weren’t teenagers and that I wasn’t interested.
To be fair to him, he stopped immediately, but then tried to justify his behaviour telling me how much he fancied me etc etc etc. I told him it was never going to happen and that propositioning me in the car park was not nice. He then challenged me to tell him where I would like to be propositioned. I mean seriously, what was he thinking?
He could tell by the look on my face that he had badly misjudged the moment and opened the car door to leave, but didn’t actually move as he wanted to check if I would like go back for a night cap. I explained that I didn’t, so with a big humph, he got out and walked off still sporting an unsightly bulge in the front of his trousers. I did begin to wonder if he had taken some little blue pills as I’d never witnessed such a development on our other dates.
Before I get hate mail, he only lived up the road, so he wasn’t left stranded although he could have made a tent out of his trousers for shelter if that had been the case!
So there endeth the dating story of me and TBB, which is a shame as I’m sure we could have been great friends, but the car episode really diminished my respect for him and I realised I should have been honest about my feelings sooner.
The moral of this dating story is, read the signs, give out clear signals in return, and save the propositioning for behind closed doors (of the homestead, not the car).
Have you ever been propositioned somewhere unseemly?
With love
Julia, AKA Just Me.