The adventures of Frizzy Blonde

Once upon a time in a far-off land, a princess was living in a one bedroom-flat, decorated with her parents’ cast-off furniture and anything she could afford from overpriced homeware stores. She had curly (dyed) blonde hair, a fondness for cheese and pale white skin- less like snow and more like one of those sad, greying bath mats you find in a student house share. To avoid the poison cookies of the smug married brigade- who lived nearby in a land called Facebook- her friends suggested she try online dating to search for a suitable prince of her own. (Preferably one who could put up shelves.) Here’s the story of Frizzy Blonde’s adventures…

After a summer of dating in new and exciting London lands (I highly recommend boating with gin on the Serpentine), I’m afraid there’s no fairy tale ending to report. But as a modern girl who buys apples from Sainsbury’s and never accepts gifts from haggard strangers at the doorstep, I’ll probably live. While I might not have discovered a prince, I do have a collection of conversations with men that make me want to stop dating forever and buy a nice little dog to walk around Richmond park instead.

In lieu of a love story I present to you: ‘The tale of seven idiots, part 1’.

1.)   The angry nice guy

If 2016 was the year of the fuckboy, 2017 is all about the nice guy. Clutching puppies on their Tinder profiles, sliding into your Twitter DMs or just bemoaning the fact that no hot women fancy them, ‘nice guy’ is the new black.

But let’s be clear, just because they don’t find it easy to get casual sex, doesn’t mean they don’t have ulterior motives. A few months ago, I went on three dates with a nice, sweet guy before (politely) telling him that I didn’t see it going any further.

“I feel like you’ve led me on,” he said, when I told him. “I know you said you didn’t fancy me but I thought you were being playful. I mean don’t get me wrong- I didn’t want to marry you because you’re annoying, but I had planned on sleeping with you so I will lament not seeing you naked. It would have been great if we’d got to a place where we’d been dating and fucking.”

Amazed by his reaction to a polite ‘thanks but no thanks’, I asked him why he thought I was so annoying. After listing a long list of grievances (mostly about me not showing enough interest in him or retaining information) he told me he’d been prepared to overlook my faults because of my big tits and ‘mass of hair to pull’. Fighting off the urge to vomit and rub it in his eyes, we ended the conversation shortly after. I think I’ve lost a keeper there.

2.)   Doesn’t know how to get laid guy

Recently I started chatting to a cute guy on Bumble who lived nearby. Instead of using this as a conversation starter, he invited me over after three lines of chat and punctuated his message with a cat emoji.

The following conversation went something like this:

Me: “I’m allergic to cats.”

Him: “I love pussies though, what can I say? I like to show them love and affection. If you come over, I could show you?” (This was followed by a tongue emoji and another cheeky monkey. Whoever gave adult men the power to use cartoon animals in place of punctuation needs to be shot.)

Me: “Do you have a mental disorder? Are you 14? Does this ever work on women?”

Him: “Err no, not really. Sorry. Can we start again?”

Me: “I think we’re done here. But for future reference, if you ever want to get laid, try to be a bit less ‘sexual offenders’ register’.

It doesn’t matter if you look like Brad Pitt, a sex invite from a stranger online is rarely sexy for women. It’s creepy, weird and it almost never works. If you want to be a fuckboy, I wish you the best of luck with your life goals- but please do it properly.

3.)   Inappropriately familiar guy

It’s fair to say I’m not a cuddly person. Even in the heady throes of love I don’t want some sweaty dude spooning me all night while I’m trying to sleep. I want him on the other side of the bed, preferably not snoring like a drunk, dying badger.

Recently I accidentally went out with a cuddler. His chat had been slowly getting worse in the lead up to the first date and my hopes weren’t high. When I pushed back our meeting by an hour due to my busy schedule (read: watching Netflix and eating in bed) he said that was fine- as long as he got a hug. Already my alarm bells were sounding. Who requests hugs from someone they’ve never met? Is this some terrible new first date convention I’m not aware of?

An hour and a half into the world’s most tedious conversation, I realised we had nothing in common and I’ve had better chemistry with a high school bunsen burner experiment. After he’d finished explaining why he never buys a girl a drink on a date and giving me a 10 minute lecture on cyber security, I excused myself for the bathroom. Given that we’d drunk our two rounds, I assumed we could say our awkward goodbyes and leave. No such luck. I returned to find him in my seat, next to our empty glasses. “If you sit back down here, I can hug you,” he said, backing me into the corner of our booth.

“Um, OK,” I replied, sitting down next to him like a wooden statue. And so we sat. With no drinks, and no real conversation, we sat there in dating purgatory while he wrapped his arms around me and stroked my neck and collarbone, as if we’d been together for three years. I should have said no. I should have said I was wildly uncomfortable with his familiarity and wasn’t remotely attracted to him. But I didn’t because I wanted to be polite. CURSE YOU MANNERS AND BRITISH AWKWARDNESS. (I mean is there a nice way to tell someone that they’re giving you the absolute heebs?) I finally managed to escape the situation and went home to scrub off my skin.

…. To be continued…