From Russia With cold

I finally had my date with Mr Dimitri. 

This time no snow came between us and our date, even if the air was cold. Well at least for me, as my Siberian date seemed rather comfortable with the chill of the night.

Whilst arranging our date he had offered that we meet at a French restaurant in Chiswick. Although, after checking the place on the internet, it seemed like a fantastic place, I wasn't sure I was ready to take the risk of being stuck with someone potentially uninteresting for a couple of hours in exchange for a good meal (and this could be reciprocal). So I suggested we first meet for coffee and see how it goes from there.

I checked how long it would take me to get there and leave just on time, only to find myself stuck in massive traffic on the slip road accessing the motorway a few minutes later. Thankfully Mr Dimitri is not very familiar with Chiswick and got himself lost on his way to the coffee house.

I see him passing my car as I finish parking, at least I assume it is him. He is rushing towards where I believe the café to be, he looks like his picture and is carrying an attaché case. I feel a bit reassured that I am not too late. I get into the Starbucks just as he is paying for his drink, so I quickly jump in and order my peppermint tea, oddly served in a paper cup. As I look around us I realise that chairs are being put away and counters are being emptied and cleaned. Not a good sign. It's barely one degree outside and, despite the heating in my car and my gloves, my fingers are white and frozen. The last thing I need is to be asked to leave the warmth I have just found and settled in. My fingers, tightly wrapped around my hot cup, have barely recovered their natural colour when one of the staff makes her way to each table to remind us that they are indeed about to close and could we please finish our drinks.

He is very apologetic suggest that we move onto the restaurant he had originally suggested. We pop into my car for the short drive down the road. Luckily, the restaurant is not fully book and they manage to give us a nice table. He is friendly, nice to look at  and speaks perfect French, only a few words give away a slight hint of his Russian accent. We talk about everything and anything. He has travelled quite a bit and lived in very opposite words, Russia, USA, France. I am curious, as always and ask him a lot of questions about growing up in Siberia, leaving in St Petersburg, the rationing, the cold, the snow. Ask him how he ended up in the US and then in France. To top it all the meal was gorgeous.

By the end of our date I realise that 4 hours have gone by. It's time to say goodbye, go home and reflect.

This was almost 2 weeks ago. Since then we exchanged a few text and he has checked up my Match profile on a regular basis but he hasn't asked me out and, to be honest, although I did enjoy his company, he didn't rock my boat. I would see him more as a friend than a potential boyfriend.

I suppose, even I missed out on a Russian lover, I will still have From Russia with Love to listen to...

Date with the snowman

Before Christmas I was meant to have two dates, one with Mr Dimitri, a French Russian I met on Match, the other with Mr Windsor. On the day of my dates Christmas decided to come early and it didn't just snow, the smudge of a snow we would usually have, no, it was more like a mini blizzard. I had to drive a friend to the station and could barely see where I was going. Another friend left my house in the morning to get back to hers, 45 minutes away from mine, and only got there 8 hours later and after someone came to rescue her with a 4x4!
As you can imagine it kind of put a damper on my plans. I called both Mr Dimitri and Mr Windsor to explain that due to the snow, and to my car not being built for it, I had to postponed until... the New Year.
I was lucky enough to have my parents visiting for 2 weeks over Christmas and New Year and obviously I didn't see myself leaving them at home whilst I went on date with strange men (for my fervent follower, you know who you are Mr O., I have to assume they are strange until proven otherwise, it's for my own safety ;-)
And so, I am starting the New Year with two dates, one last week with Mr Dimitri (details to follow), the other one on Friday with Mr Windsor.
Happy New Year to you all!

L'Amoureuse stars in a Romcom

We were due to meet at 7pm outside a café in West London, he hadn't asked for my number and I wasn't willing to give it to him or take his. Except, I had got caught up with some problems at work and was running late. A quick look on the website and I saved his number on my phone. As I rush to the tube station I call him,thinking it would be nicer to speak to him than to message him. Unluckily I get his voice mail. "I am very very sorry, but I am running late due to work. I should be there by 7.15pm".Off I go in the tube station which is packed. I miss the first train, and the second. I finally get on number 3. As we come out onto the above ground part of my journey I get a text from Mr TV "Thanks goodness for that I got distracted and got on the wrong tube. see you there"
I get to the café as planned 7.15pm and within minutes so does he. He is shorter than I expected, somehow they always are, it must be the ft vs m that mess it up for me. He looks like his pictures, but again, not the way I expected. My day at work has been pretty bad and I ask him for a big favour, ditch the café place in favour of the pub across the street and a stronger drink. He obliges.
We get a drink and find a table in a quietish area. He is rather sweet, interesting and funny. Despite being a Assistant Director for TV series and movies he doesn't name drop, which is quite nice. I admit to him that I am useless at recognising celebs to the point that after my country won the world cup (the football one, there is no others ones here), I got accosted by one of the team's player, Marcel Desailly,  a few month later and had no idea who he was, even asked him if he was French to which I got a Oui and a silly smile, he obviously thought I had recognised him.
We talk about bad dating experiences and I tell him a story I heard a couple of days before.
One of my colleagues went on a blind date. She met the guy at a bar. They are both seating at a table when he fetch his wallet from his shirt's chest pocket. Out flies a condom and hit the guy seating at the table next to theirs in the forehead. He turns around and offers the condom back to my colleague "I take it this is yours?" She slides it across the table to her date with a Noooo.... Needless to say that she wasn't impressed but little did she know that it could get worst. As it got hotter (I mean in the bar, not between them) he went to take his hoodie top off, only to pull out his shirt too. And here he was seating in front of her literally half naked "This is not going to well, is it?" I believe that is the point when she left.
I am now looking at my date "I mean, how arrogant does he have to be to carry a condom in his pocket on date one?" His face changes, just slightly. I tease him "Come on then. Empty your pocket." He goes white. Oh shit! Surely not!
"Well, every guy carries a condom in his wallet. I always have one." I burst out laughing. "In your wallet, yes. But in your pocket? For easy reach?" He relaxes again and we take back where we left out on a friendly and funny chatter.
It is getting late and it is a school night. I make my excuses and we leave. We say goodbye, the French way, a kiss on each cheek with a promise to chat again soon.
He is sweet but I didn't feel the spark. I don't think we will see each other again.

L'Amoureuse back in full speed

After my date on Saturday I have managed to secure two more dates for the next two weeks.
Next date, tomorrow night with Mr TV. Despite quite a few message, no phone number requested, and therefore, as a good Rules Girl (and yes, I know this has become a rarity) I have not provided it. We have agreed where to meet and what time, I just have to hope I/he makes it in time. Back to old fashion style.
My next date is with Mr Snag. We had a one on one meeting, professional one, and as he had not yet asked when we should meet up, despite his brave text attempts, at the end of it I simply asked : "So, when did you want to catch up otherwise? I am busy Tuesday and Wednesday"
A smile immediately appeared on his face. "Er... How about next Wednesday?... Wait, let me just double check, I am notorious for double booking myself. Yes, next Wednesday."
"Ok, then"
"What time will you finish work?"
"6ish?" And that's how you confirm a date. Ok, may be not very Rules Girl or is it? I know from what I have been told that he has had a crush on me for months. Every time the poor man tried to talked to me in our kitchenette area at work I would make an escape to avoid the "date" subject, mainly because of the Gossip Queens (all of which are male by the way). I felt that, as he had asked me out, it was only fair for me to let him know when I was busy. Right?
And, because men are like buses, you wait for one for ages and then 3 arrive at once, I today received this text from one of my contractors:
"Hi LAmoureuse, you still need to let me know which bottle of Champagne I owe you. Mr Contractor x"
Now, I don't know about you, but when I send a text to one of my professional contact I don't usually finish it with "x"... The reason for the "Champagne I owe you" is that I did him and his client a big favour a couple of months back and as a joke pointed out that they owed me big time and that chocolate just wouldn't cut it, that my French origins were screaming for Champagne. Truth is, I make that same joke most days and I am lucky to even get a Christmas card from any of those guys. So this came as a bit of a... surprise? shock?
I have been thinking of an appropriate answer and googling it I found the following which might either confirm that it was a joke, or send me in front of a judge for corruption charges:
Dom Perignon Rose 1996 300cl, at a very cool £3,999 (just in case you don't believe me http://www.thewhiskyexchange.com/P-12334.aspx )
And if any of you feel generous, leave me a message and I will let you know where to send it to.

No sparks with Mr Sparky

I was quite apprehensive of my date with Mr Sparky, his profile said he was 40 years old and from past experience I knew that a picture might be worth a thousand words, but it can also be 10 years old and hide a very different face. 

About a year ago I had agreed to meet with this guy, just for a drink not too far from home. He looked quite cute on his profile photo and sounded kind of interesting. After a few messages I had some doubt about his state of mind but put them aside and met him anyway. As I was waiting for him in front of the local tube station I kept scanning any tall slim dark hair man who passed by me as they just whizzed by. Suddenly I could see this tall plum bad skin half bold dark hair man approaching me with a huge green. "Are you L'Amoureuse?" "Err... yeah...?" At this point I could have just run. I however took pity of him and hoped that he may have a personality to make up for it but just in case I planned my escape route "Just to let you know, I can't stay too long my friend is flying out tomorrow morning for 6 months and it's my last chance to catch up with him. So I'll just stay for one drink."

We got a drink and we had barely sat down that he proceeded telling me how he had lived with his ex and that she had dumped him after he suffered a major injury at football which made him put a lot of wait on. She also want on to empty his bank account and she was the devil reincarnated etc. I reminded him that "unfortunately" I had to shoot off, that when I realised that not only was he revenge full but he was also clueless when he asked "Should we meet again?".... Mmmm... not sure I really want to put myself through that again, but thanks for asking all the same! Obviously I wasn't that cruel and instead I just smiled and left.

I was seriously hoping that this time would be different and I was nicely surprised when I arrived to find waiting for me a rather cute man, looking much younger than his 40 years, smartly dressed and smiling. We go to the local Tapas bar. I assume that we are just going to seat down for a drink when the waitress brings us menus and he starts looking at it. Ah... Not quite what I had in mind but I had to go with the flow.
As it turned out Mr Sparky was interesting, we both love dogs but agreed that each to his bed and dogs and humans weren't meant to share bed. We had an interest and curiosity for all foods and would try pretty much anything. We understood where our food came from and both had seen the process through from the beast to the plate. We didn't see ourselves leaving for ever in town and like the idea to move out to the country side to a simpler life. 
Then, something went wrong, very wrong.
 First, I started to feel I need to show what a tough girl I was and the worst of my work persona came out. I almost went into cock fighting mode. It might work on my building site to get the boys back in place but never, ever, should I use it on a date... I quickly felt that I was loosing it. And couldn't really blame him. 
Then this lovely guy came out with the worst kind of stereotypical, borderline racism, he could have. Now, to place it into context I leave near a very large Asian community. A lot of my friends come from the World, all colours, religions and countries. When I travel I enjoy experiencing the locals way of live and understanding, embracing the culture. Him commenting on how a neighbourhood went down the hills once Asians moved in really didn't go down well, and just then. He had truly lost me. Shame, he was cute and had seemed intelligent. It just shows the impact of ignorance.
NEXT!

Speed Dating through the eyes of Lee Evans

Thankfully I have never had an experience quite like that Speed Dating!

Sweet & Sour

Those are my favourite sweets. I would eat them until my teeth rote. Unfortunately it is also the less pleasant feeling I have been left after today's lunch with Mr Smile.
It is the first time I saw him dressed casually and he looked just as nice and charming as ever. He called me at one on the dot. He was waiting for me on the corner of the street, outside work. He had come into town just to take me for lunch, took the time off his manic packing to meet yours truly. This was a good sign.
As I approached he was chatting with one of his now ex-colleagues, she says hi but look surprised to see me there, meeting up with him. We went to a French boulangerie and we chatted, about everything, anything, just chatted. We then got to the stage where we needed to say what needed to be said.
Mr Smile: "It's a shame we only got to know each other so late.
- I know, I wanted to chat to you longer sometimes but I was aware of the gossip "queens" in the office.
- I have kind of been in a non-relationship mode in the last year and just didn't... I guess that's too much information... But if you are ever thinking of visiting Kenya or Malaysia, let me know... "
Unfortunately, far too soon, I have to go back to work and so we walk back towards his ex-office, my work.
I choose a quieter street where I think there might be less of our colleagues around. I feel very aware that I am near work and not somewhere relaxing and romantic. We pass another one of his ex-colleague. She has always been very quiet, doesn't talk much, but that look and that smile mean a hundred words.
The next street is deserted. We stop, unsure what to say, what to do next. We look at each other and smile. Slowly we reach out for each other... and kiss. A small kiss. More like a peck. "Never mind". Never mind, such a long wait and only a small peck so late in the game. But then we try again, this time it is slightly longer, still soft and too short for my taste, but again I feel too close to work to be comfortable and this is all I can manage. Hardly the romantic kiss I had dreamt off and it leaves on my lips two very opposite tastes. A sweet one, longing for more. More of his lips, more of his eyes, more of his smile. But also a bitter one, one of knowing that no matter what, this is the first and last kiss from Mr Smile. Despite promises of catching up in many months to give me back my book, or in two years, which is how long he thinks it will take him to be fluent in French, we both know that in fact we will probably never meet again. We will be friends on Facebook and send each other a nice little note every few months but probably never meet again.
Sweet and Sour, my favourite sweets indeed.

Farewell...

There is time when life challenges you and this weekend was one of those.
I went to Mr Smile leaving do on Friday night, or more accurately I went for a drink with my colleagues at the bar where Mr Smile's leaving do was. Selfishly I was keen for my colleagues to leave so that I could go and join him. Unfortunately this did not happen until the time I had to leave to meet with my friend, Mr Ken. So I quickly caught up with him, got slightly teased by some of our colleagues, along the lines of "You can't let her go!" and so on. We stepped outside and agreed to meet again before he leaved.
The plan was originally to meet last night for his second  leaving do, with his friends this time. As he failed to call by the afternoon I called him. I know, this is not Rules like. But in all fairness I thought he may have saved my number on his work phone which I knew he had given back to his company. Anyway, we decided that it might be awkward for both of us if I went, a) he wouldn't have much time to chat with me whilst he caught up with his friends, b) I don't know any of his friends and might end up standing on my own most of the night.


Unfortunately that same day I had received an e-mail from my mum. My baby dog back home was very sick. My high school boyfriend had taken me to the dog rescue centre, 15 years ago, to pick up my very first dog. After viewing all the dogs we had gone back to the reception only to find this tiny puppy in a small cage on top of cages full of kittens. I instantly fell in love.He was 3 months old and he could sit on just one of my knees. He had never walked in grass and he pied like a girl. But he was by far the my biggest love. And now my baby was sick, very sick. I called my mum and she was in tears. She had taken him to the vet and it wasn't looking good. He was old, his breathing was fast and heavy and his heart was weak. Later that night she called me back, my baby had died in his sleep, in his favourite spot. My mum was crying and trying to reassure me/her feel better. Her grandson, as she called him, hadn't suffered. My dad couldn't talk, he was crying. I have only seen him cry twice. When his dad passed away and when my mum's dad passed away. He had always moaned about how I had left them this dog who was a pain in the butt to look after. That whenever they wanted to go somewhere they had to think about what to do with him. How he would poop everywhere. But despite all that, just like my mum and I, he had grown very fond of this little mongrel.
I was pleased I hadn't gone to the party after all. I had been home to take that call.
We had agreed to meet up Monday night for dinner, but the news of my dogs death shook me up more than I would have expected. I had crap Sunday, mainly going through pictures and old video of him playing with his Christmas present, defending hi tennis ball against my malignant hand mischievously trying to prise it from his paws whilst he chewed on my wrist.
And as much as I was keen to see Mr Smile before he left I didn't think I would be great company. I texted him to explaining that I had some bad news from back home and didn't feel up to dinner on Monday, I offered instead that we met up for coffee.
Within 10 minutes he called.
"Is it your dog?
Yes, he didn't make it.
For what you told me he seem to have had a great life. How are you doing?
Not great. But I know he didn't suffer.
Listen, I understand you don't want to dinner, and I know you say you couldn't do lunch, but would you have time for a quick lunch, Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday? I still have to give you back your book."
Every time I need cheering up he finds a way to make me feel special. And so, just like that, Monday we are meeting for lunch. I can't guarantee that I will be able to keep my make up from running.

In memory of Jumbet - April 2005 - 18 September 2010

You brought me joy, love and laughter.

You will never be forgotten.

Kissing's good for your health. So pucker up, Baby, I'm gonna make you live past a hundred!

Ever since I read this on the SleepTalkingMan blog I have been considering making it my new chat up line! Definitely not Rules like but so funny!
You will be pleased to hear that I did not try it on Mr Smile tonight.
He checked midday if we were still on for tonight and what time we should leave. He came to check on time if I was ready, leaving sometime to close out a few open e-mails and then, well prepared, he took me to a wine bar he used to go to. It was just perfect, a tube stop away from the office and we left late enough so that most of our colleagues were already gone, so no risk of office gossip tomorrow.
He choose and ordered a bottle of wine, rather nice. And we just chatted. About everything and nothing in particular. Then it was time to go. We walked back to the station. He waited with me for a train that would allow me to get home safer. When we got to his stop he kissed me goodnight... on the cheeks.
It was a lovely evening and he insisted that I should come to both his work and his friends leaving party before his big trip. I'll have to see. This girl already has plans for one of the two, and a Rules Girl (even one who has broken all the other Rules) does not put 'ho before Bro', or in this case Mr Smile before Mr Ken. Even a bad Rules Girl has her limits.

The Exhibition

Saturday morning I duly kept myself busy, pampered myself, got dressed, changed outfit about three time going through a quite nice dress, with tights, without tights, with belt, without belt to end up in jeans and t-shirt. I don't think Mr Smile has ever seen me in dress and I thought the dress might just make it all a bit too formal and just add pressure where it wasn't needed. By 11.30am he still hadn't called, so I decided to do what any good Rules Girl would do, I carried on with my weekend plans, with or without him.
Whilst I am sitting on the train to London, en route to the photographic gallery, my phone rings. It's a new number. I try to put on my calmer voice as I pick up my phone. To be honest I had slightly given up and had prepared myself for a day for one in Central London.
As it happens, I was right to get myself ready for a single day out. He had phone to let me know that, unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to make it. He was preparing for his big move and had managed to secure the help of a friend and his car. As hard as I tried, I could not blame him. I have been there myself and I know far too well how stressful it is to try to sort out your life before a six months trip abroad. What did reassure me however, is the fact that he kept asking what time I would be in town. I could almost hear him thinking "could I make it to the exhibition and back to mine in time? Can I squeeze her in?"
But instead he ask if we could try to catch up one evening next week as weekends were just becoming far too busy for him. I agreed and went on to the exhibition on my own, somehow still with a massive smile on my face.
Being single doesn't have to mean being alone or even staying at home. Being single just mean having the freedom to choose what you want to do and when you want to do it. My Saturday ended up being quite enjoyable, after visiting the gallery I went on to treat myself to a lovely sandwich at Paul's followed by one of my favourite cake. It had been a long time since I had a chance to seat down in a café and enjoy a snack with a good book. It just shows, there is a silver lining to every cloud.

Success at last

It only took a little bit of help and many days of settle hints, but Mr Smiley finally asked me out.
It was Friday and I was refilling my bottle of water in the kitchenette. Mr C was just walking out of it when Mr Smiley walked in. After the usual greeting exchange we moved on to the what-are-you-up-to-this-weekend chat. I mentioned that I didn't have any specified plans but was thinking of checking out this photographic exhibit. That is when I finally got the first result of many days of settle hints: "Are you going with anyone? I just thought... maybe... I could come with you?... If you wanted?"
Now, I had two very different yet simultaneous reactions here:
Reaction number 1: Jump up and down whilst screaming YYYYYYEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!! WOOOOO...HOOOOOO!!!!! FINALLY!!! YOU ASKED ME OUT!!!!
All that whilst practising my back flip, full split, hip hop and salsa dance moves. And most importantly... all in my head.  It's just that my mind is more flexible than my body and I am not sure I would have managed the back flip and full split that well in real life.
Reaction number 2: Play it very cool "Yeah, that would be lovely" with a nice smile.
He suggested that he would call me the following morning to arrange time and place, then pointed out that he didn't have my number. I obliged.
I hear you say "But you broke all the Rules! You accepted a date a Friday for a Saturday. You told him you had no plans for the weekend." Yes, I know, I didn't do it exactly by the Rules but I figured that one has to live dangerously at times.

What a date!

I had a date with Ned tonight.
I know I said I wasn't impressed with our telephone chat but I decided that it was probably due to me being upset at my car being smashed by some yobs a few hours before.
I therefore decided to give him a second chance and a date. We agreed to meet in central London in a nice area. He had picked a bar that I had never heard of before. The bar was hidden in the back corridor of a hotel.
I always went by the rules of never going to a bar in a hotel for a date. It just sound and feels wrong and might give your date the wrong idea about what you have in mind. But...
Despite the not so comfortable feeling and the slightly old fashion, border line shabby look of the hotel reception, I dutifully followed my date into the corridor to a dark door with just a name on the door. On the other side of the door a tiny room with 2 doors and covered in Mickey Mouse cartoon strip wall paper. One doors has a neon sign reading Tattoo and Piercing, the other one is a fire escape door...  As it happens we had to buzz at the door with the Tattoo sign above. A small window slid open and a pair of eyes checked us out before opening the door. At this stage I have many thoughts going through my head, most of them along the lines of "Where the Hell is he taking me?" and "How long before I'm dead?".
I almost expected:
a) Gangsters playing pokers, 30's style, in a room full of smoke, cash and gun on the tables
b) Loads of men and women in dodgy vinyl sex play wear, leash in hand and dog collar around the neck of fat men on all fours
c) Crazy white coat wearing chemical students working on the latest popping pill for the next rave
d) a mix of all the above

What we found was none of the above. Instead we entered this extremely quirky bar playing 30's music in a nonchalant atmosphere. Sardines tin clock on the wall, Mona Lisa in an impression of Little Britain's "The computer says no..." Mismatch furnitures which somehow merge together nicely. Shortly after we arrived a group of musician arrived to set up. And in other circumstances I would have stayed to listen to it, unfortunately, as much as I loved the bar, I did not feel the same about my date. Ned was nice enough, but my fear from our phone chat did turn out to be founded.
We barely met up that he started describing what he had been told he had done wrong on previous date (not making a big effort on choosing place to take his date to, he sure has improve on that), then the conversation was flowing but mostly felt forced and false. I just don't think we had much in common.
Judging by the way we parted, no shake of hand or kiss on the cheek, we both felt the same way.
Well, at least we tried...

Ned...

Last night was a bad one in more than one way. My car got vandalised by some kids, leaving me with a big bill with my insurance. But it was also the night for my first call with the new man... And it didn't go well.
I did keep it to 10 minutes, for once. I don't know whether it was because I was annoyed about my car and stressed out or whether I just wasn't that impressed with his voice and his lack of conversation but he very much reminded me of Ned Flanders, in the Simpsons. I apologise at the beginning of our chat as I knew that I wouldn't be sounding my chirpy self due to the earliest incident. He's answer where along the lines of "Crickey" and "Didley Doo...". I know that most women might be impressed by a man who never swears, but I work on a building site! We mentioned calling each other again, but I doubt he was too impressed either.
I think Ned might not be a match after all.

A very close encounter... Maybe too close

I am not sure whether this count as a date, but I sure had a close encounter this morning.

I was running a bit late for work and so I rushed to get the first train in the station. Instead of the usual 5 carriages London transport decided that rush hour was the perfect time to try a 2 carriages train. It's not like if it was rush hour after all. Of course to make matter worst there must have been twice as many people as usual tying to squeeze into those 2 carriages.

I ran down along the platform trying to find which one of the four doors wasn't yet pouring out of commuters and would allow for one more wee one. I finally found one with what I thought was just enough space for one more. I never realised I could have been that wrong! Suddenly I had visions of horror pictures I had seen from the Japanese train stations where the station managers push the passengers to their last breath into carriages to ensure the trains leave on time. I always thought the Brits were queuers, not pushers. Another mistake on my part!

Some people would take full advantage of the situation, and I guess I could have too. After all, I did find myself having the closest and longest physical relationship that I had in months, actually, in the last year. 

Unfortunately:

a) I was stuck to this man's back, not the most flirt friendly position

b) I didn't know that anyone could be that sweaty/smelly first thing in the morning

c) Once he turned around I realised he really wasn't my type, no, really NOT my type...

The only thing that didn't make this encounter a full on sexual relationship was the clothes between us (yes, thanks god he was wearing clothes) and maybe the fact that the only body fluid exchange were "limited" to perspiration, mainly his...

Never mind, at least I can now claim a physical relationship. Let's just hope that the next one won't be in a year and that it has a bit less cloth involved and a much more charming man...

Karma, karma, karma...

Dear Karma,
I know I had made mistakes in my pre-Rules dating life. I know I may have sometimes scared men away by my over - commitment madness. I know that at some break-ups I may have reacted a bit crazy.
But seriously? You really had to make Mr Elevator that scary?
We met at 6pm. Ok, I was, according to him 7 minutes late. Not 5 minutes, not 10, 7 Minutes! He asks me where I wanted to go. Considering how precise he had been on where to meet, I assumed he already had a plan. Never mind. We walked aimlessly down the road. The discussion felt a bit too heavy. He is very opinionated and slightly aggressive (verbally). We finally stop at a lovely, very old, pub. There is no seat so we just stand next to a drink shelf. He is kind of cornering me against a bench, not literally but he still makes me slightly uncomfortable.
The discussion is difficult, full of awkward silences. Thanks god for the pictures on the walls and the old map to keep the conversation going.
After the second drink, yes I managed 2 drinks, felt like I owed him at least a second drink chance, he asked whether I would like to go out again for a drink.
I had to be honest and so said : "I'm not sure..."
That's when what had been an uncomfortable evening became even more uncomfortable, if this was at all possible.
"What does that mean?"... Er... I didn't think that needed translation or explanation... I'm just not that into you.
He then carried on with "Well that's quite ambiguous..." Really? No. Really?
And it carried on... "So what did I do wrong?" Me, "Nothing, you are a nice enough guy, I just don't feel the vibe..."
Oh, crap! Why did I have to say that?!
"The vibe? What is that?" " How do you know what I'm like after 2 hours?" "Is it because I am too young?" (oh, yeah! By the way, he is 28!) It carried on all the way back to the Tube station, getting a little bit more  verbally aggressive along the way... Then, something even stranger happened. The day I met him he was going down the same tube station I was. But apparently he doesn't usually take the tube home. He walks to a train station down the road from it...
He stalked me from my work's lift to the tube station!!!!
Now that I finally have a stalker, I am just not sure how to feel about it... It just doesn't feel as I thought it would...
Let's hope the sliding doors are more favourable next time...

A.W.O.L.

Well, it looks like Mr TopGun as gone A.W.O.L. on me. Last text from him was Friday. I sent him one text on Saturday but haven't heard back since. I know that as a Rule Girl I shouldn't try to text him, but as a normal girl I think I might just drop him a quick text tomorrow and see what happens.
In the meantime I got asked for my number today. I met him in the lift at work. I was on my way out earlier than usual to go to my weekly class. As usual, I checked myself in the lift mirror, just to make sure that I hadn't left my trousers unzipped (like the previous morning), and being my chatty self, pointed out to the only other person in the lift how handy those mirrors were. To be honest I hadn't particularly noticed him neither was I expecting any kind of chat back as most of the men working in my building seems:
a) miserable
b) seriously up themselves
c) not aware of good behaviour (saying good morning, asking which floor other people go to and just smiling in general)
Taking the above list into account, I was not prepared for what followed!
He not only chatted (although he was on the border of defensiveness/aggressiveness/arrogance) but he walked to the tube station with me, took the escalator down with me and then, I almost fell off the escalator at this stage, asked me what I was up to tonight because maybe we could go for a drink.
Err.... "Sorry I can't tonight, I have my class..."
Him - "But you could another night? Maybe you could give me your number? If it's not too forward. If you're not interest it's fine, you can tell me."
So off he went with my number. And here I am, a few hours later, at home but with a date from Mr Elevator for Thursday. Practice makes perfect. Right?

To the moon and back...

Having enjoyed date number 1 with Mr TopGun I was kind of hoping he would asked me for another one...
And he did, pretty much the following day. Not bad!
We agreed to meet on the Monday in Chiswick. He choose the restaurant, I checked it out on the website and it seemed lovely.
I managed to get home early enough to grab my car and make my way to our date. I go there right on time and park in front, or near enough, of the restaurant. Something seems amiss...
The restaurant looks very dark inside, chairs are piled up and none of the chairs and tables you would expect to be set on the terrace by this lovely weather are no where to be seen... Oh, no... The restaurant is closed.
It's not as bad as it sounds, Chiswick is full of lovely restaurant, so finding another place to eat will not be a problem. I decided to go and get some cash, just in case I need it and as I am walking to the cash point my phone rings. "I swear, it is not like me to be late", my date, Mr TopGun, "I got a phone call and miss the restaurant and I am now parked miles away and making my way to you." indeed he is, I can now see him. Now, how do I break the news to him about the restaurant? " I have a bit of bad news... The restaurant is closed... But I'm sure we will find something around, plenty of restaurant to chose from."
Thinking I am being clever I go for the Thai restaurant, just across the road from the original restaurant... Poor choice. The service is not great and the food is just about average. But the company more than make up for it.
We just seem to click and keeping having a good laugh throughout the evening. once again, we almost get kicked out of the restaurant.
I offer him a lift back to his car parked so far away. As I am dropping him and he is about to get out of my car there is an awkward moment... and then it passes. He gets out of the car and we promise to get in touch again soon...
To be continued... Maybe?

Flying to the moon

During a free trial weekend on one of the site where I had filled in my details I got a message from an American guy who actually seemed quite nice. Ex-US Navy pilot, 42, tall blonde and cute. We exchanged 3 e-mails before he asked me out, we spoke on the phone once and after 20 minutes (yes I know it's meant to be 10...) I made my excuses about being a busy bee and before I could put the phone down he asked me out. So far, so good.
The night before our date he still hasn't confirm the location. I am going back to my Rules training and I think "it's a cancellation". Then, on D-Day, I get an e-mail sent to me around 10am, confirming time and place for the date. A quick chat to my colleagues and I decide that his e-mail was really sweet and that I would give him a chance, but not without a little reminder that I am not Miss Lastminute.com. So, rather than answering his e-mail I send him a text:
"Hi Mr TopGun, I was just about to ask my colleague to join me for a drink when I saw your message. 8pm at the pub sounds good. I'll probably drive down, not sure what traffic is like at that time but hoping to be on time..."
Boy, should I have known what would come next, I would have been more careful with my choice of words...
I left work on time and for once all the Public Transport seemed to have rallied on my side. I barely stepped off the escalator at my tube station that an empty train arrived, I got to the train station and the train was there waiting for me. Got off the train and the bus arrived just as I got the bus stop. I even had time to get a quick shower and get change, drive to the pub and get there only 2 minutes late.
I barely parked my car than my phone rang. Mr TopGun. As it happens he had an I.T. meltdown. His Satnav got stolen 2 days before our date, his laptop got a virus the day before, his printer broke down and now his Blackberry's satnav function has decided to freeze and yes, he is lost!
I tried to understand where he is, as it happened he had chosen a pub in my old neighbourhood and I know the roads around there pretty well. Unfortunately my directions get lost in translation and 20 minutes later he finds himself in "a city where there is no signs in English". Oh, Boy!
After some more directions Mr TopGun finally arrived at the pub... at 9pm.
As he walks in I give him the quick once over (the girls will know that it isn't reserved to the male side of the species), not quite what I had expected but I can see the potential. He takes a seat at the table I have been holding for one hour. He not only apologise but also demonstrate a good sense of humour, there might be hope.
We move on from a drink to a share starter, then a main for him and straight through to dessert for me. We finally have to leave after the waitress reminds us that it is past closing time...
We leave on the promise to get in touch again.
To be followed...

First date of the summer

Following 2/3 more "phone dates", each over 20 minutes I finally had a real date with Mr Garden and... I shouldn't have let the phone chat past the 10 minutes. He is sweet but... he looks older than his picture, I can get over that, he is just not my type. Too shy, not enough "Humpf" for me.
We went to a nice'ish pub (let's be fair, there isn't much potential, pub wise, around where I live). We both had soft drinks and, mainly, I spoke. I tried to prod him to tell me more about himself but he remain silence most of the time. And, yes, I filled in the gaps.
Oh well, at least it was good practice for my next date, hopefully next week, with an ex US army pilot, Mr Top Gun? I just have to hope that he is taller than the original Mr Top Gun!

This men definitely didn't read the Rules!!

Ok, it has been a very long time since my last update. I had even started typing what you are about to read, but the trauma of that date (or should I say non-date) put me off any dating for a while. So here it goes...
The following was written on the 05 May 2010 and had to wait until now, until I fully recovered, for me to post it.
# Oh boy! Mr Tall has DEFINITELY NOT read the Rules. He cancelled on me at 17:30 for our 20:00 date! His reason for it? I did not confirm our date.
Er, let's rewind...
So the last text I sent him before that was :
 "Nandos on Wednesday sounds great. (name of the city)? Can we make it 8pm? It will give me a chance to get home and get my car."
 He then answered by text:
"8 is good for me! Not sure if this is pushing it so tell me if I am. but my work e-mail is Mr.Tall@work.co.uk as it's easier to message that way. Not to worry if you are busy though x"
As I was busy, I didn't answer, assuming that the previous texts were confirmation of our date. Obviously not confirmed enough for Mr Tall who this afternoon sent me the following:
"Hi going to cancel tonight as haven't heard from you. take care all the best with the search. Mr Tall"
WTF?? #

Back to today date 24 May. Ok, the above probably doesn't sound that bad. But here is what followed.
I went back to him saying that I didn't get back to him as I thought we had confirmed the date the day before and that I had been busy.
His answer? "I guess perhaps I'm an impatient person, or maybe unreasonable, but I do think that a quick text only takes a moment, so I guess I didn't make a good enough impression on you to warrant one. Either way the person I want to be with will make time and be happy to do that. So with that, and that you made time to go back onto "thewebsitewherewemet.com" last night rather than text me which tells me you're still looking. I think I'll leave it there. Believe me it pains me to do so x"
At this point I had to remind him that:
a) we had agreed the date the day before
b) I did have a life and was genuinely busy the day before, even if I had turn "thewebsitewherewemet.com" on before going baking in my kitchen
c) that what I did of my life at this stage was none of his business, because
d) we had only met once before
e) and that if he new I had been on-line, surely it was because he had been too
Believe it or not he texted me back to apologise for being so insecure and did 8pm still work for me.
Errr... NO?

So that was my last date, almost a month ago and I think it did seriously put me off dating for a bit!