I’ve spoken about my dating experiences in length over the duration of my stint as Tinderella. For the most part, these tales of woe and wonder come from having actually met these guys and gone on a physical date with them.
Not this time, though. Sometimes, you don’t even have to meet up to have a pretty bad dating experience. For me, this was exactly the case with Kyle.
(Naturally, throughout this column I’ve given the guys featured pseudonyms to protect their identity/my legal status. For this, honestly I can’t be sure if it’s really his name or not.)
The boy
He was great, don’t get me wrong. He was an office guy, worked nine to five, played football and then went to the pub at the weekend with his mates, and (by his own admission) could cook the best roast chicken I would ever eat. Some very big talk in front of the world’s biggest chicken enthusiast.
Kyle and I had spoken for a couple of weeks when we decided maybe the time had come to meet. We appeared to have gotten on quite well, we had a lot of similar personality traits (both into rugby too, so what the hell was there to lose?)
The date
Then came the time to meet. It was around the last week of uni for me and I was in such a hectic state that some days, I barely got a chance to eat I was so overwhelmed with deadlines, as we all know too well from the last few weeks.
We’d decided to meet the Wednesday of my final week in lectures. Once again, a slight problem reared its ugly head – where were we going to meet? He was in work until five in Bridgend, about a half an hour’s drive from my home in Cardiff. I wasn’t going to be finished at university until seven that evening – our lecturer had organised a little get-together for us on our last law lecture of the semester. He suggested to have some drinks, get to know each other that way.
But that wasn’t such a great idea. We all know the perils that can come with drinking on an empty stomach. Not something I was going to show him on the first time we’d met, maybe. When I said maybe we could catch dinner, it was like the reply came from a totally different person.
“No, I won’t go for dinner with you,” was the response. “I’ve been on loads of dates this last while, and with it coming up to Christmas I can’t afford to spend money to buy you dinner. Is that all you’re interested in? Are you only dating me for my money? Gold digger.”
I was in such a state of shock I didn’t even reply to him. Ten minutes later, though, Kyle came back.
“Doesn’t matter now, I’ve got a new date for tonight, she doesn’t demand I take her for dinner, and she is so much fitter than you.”
If only every guy was like him, or our friend below.
