Another week, another date. I used to be a serial monogamist but as of late I’ve been embracing my single side and getting to know people on a far more casual basis. There may be some of you that groan and say ‘yet another female that has disregarded her morals and dropped her panties’. However readers, my morals, and my panties, have stayed firmly in tact. (Please note: These articles are told in retrospect and by the time you read this I may have well dropped said panties. Regardless, that’s a story for another day.)
Today I am here to share with you my experience of dating a guitarist. I would like to make it clear that these articles are meant to be slightly tongue in cheek, and are in no way a generalisation, they are merely based on MY personal experiences.
Tales of a serial guitarist dater
Anyway, on to the guitarist in question. Dave (please note that names have been changed) was yet another guy that was ‘just my type’ – I think we’re starting to see a theme here – tall…blah blah blah, you know how it goes. But, the one thing that ultimately drew me to him? He played guitar. I’m a bit of a serial guitarist dater, having previously maintained relationships with two other guitarists; Dave was the third to add to my list.
He started by sending me some videos of him and his band playing and I was also pleasantly surprised that he was also the vocalist of the band. Being a singer myself, this was a huge bonus. We had things to talk about, he liked Muse (big thumbs up) and he was sweet.
Our first date started at Pizza Express. He met me at the station and I noticed that he was quite timid, something that I’ve never really dealt with before. We sat down, ordered, and waited for our food. Over general chit chat my brain went into analytical mode. ‘This guy is so nervous.’ ‘Bless him he’s shaking.’ ‘He said I look pretty, how sweet.’
A meal turned into a drink at the pub and he plucked up the courage to put his arm around me. He didn’t like the fact that I paid for his drink though. Note to self: I should really stop doing that. Don’t de-masculinize men, they don’t appreciate it. We chatted and we walked to the taxi rank. On the way, he stopped and kissed me. A pretty decent kiss at that. Until an ambulance driver blasted his horn at us and I nearly pooped myself.
I am not a taxi service
We shared a taxi and parted ways. I’ll skip all the niceties of the next part, but in brief we went to the beach, had a lovely time, I thought things were great, la di da. He ‘didn’t want the day to end’ so invited me to get a drink at our local pub. Whilst driving back he utters the words ‘actually, do you mind if I just meet up with my friends instead?’ I drove him to the pub. Dear readers do not be used as a taxi service. Your petrol money is not worth the humiliation of dropping a guy off to see his friends on a second date.
The WORST part was the drunken snapchat he sent me two days later of him jerking off. No sir, that isn’t my idea of ‘hot’. Cue a lot of profanities hurled in my direction when I turned him down for sex.
Readers, moral of the story? If selfish, horny guys are your thing by all means go for it. If they’re not you’d better learn how to develop a thick skin because you will most certainly need it for the insults that will be aimed in your direction.
This weeks top five lessons for you:
- Know your rules and stick to them. If you don’t want to have sex on a first date then don’t do it.
- Being cuddled up to after less than two hours of meeting someone is rather uncomfortable.
- Don’t be guilt tripped or made to think things are your fault. You have every right to stick to your guns.
- Speaking of guns. It’s quite weird when you’re more muscular than the guy you’re dating. You will ultimately end up feeling like a body builder.
- Snapping someone’s cheap pair of sunglasses after they’ve called you the worst names you’ve ever heard is really rather liberating.
Until next week folks. No, not you Dave. I won’t be seeing you again.