Review: Old Fashioned Dating Event, 22nd Feb

So, as I posted the other day, I went to the launch event of Old Fashioned Dating at the Shadow Lounge in Soho on Wednesday night. Having never been to a speed dating night before, and not really ever having the desire to, I was invited to this and was pleased to discover it was billed as 'speed dating with a difference - the old fashioned way', which was essentially, that you are matched beforehand by answering a few questions about yourself and who you'd like to meet. You're then given a card with 10 names on at the beginning of the night who you hopefully have something in common with, thereby eliminating the whole awkward-5-minutes with someone who is completely not your type.

So off I trotted to Soho, not really knowing what to expect, but hoping to have a bit of fun! I was also really looking forward to the Burlesque show after, having never seen it before but definitely appreciating the female form ;)
I got there, and the first thing I noticed was that I was probably one of the youngest there... so definitely hoped some younger guys would turn up; I was a bit worried that perhaps speed dating is for slightly older-ish people. I got myself a drink, sat down in the nearest booth and started chatting to a couple of girls who had come together (note to self: bring a friend next time, it's much more fun if you get to compare notes!) who worked in PR. They were really nice, and we were just chatting about our shared dating woes etc. It was good to meet some fellow ladies who were in a similar boat.

The evening started out a little late as some people arrived late and we had to wait until everyone got there otherwise the matches wouldn't, er... match up. I think my suggestion for the next event would be to start it at 6.30 or 7pm instead of 6... I found it a struggle to get there in time, and I'm only 15 minutes on a bus from Soho. I think there was also a bit of confusion for some people as their dates hadn't turned up and some people seemed to be missing people or have completely blank cards. Obvious teething problems though, nothing that disastrous.

So as I said, we were all given 10 names, with a number next to it - that determined the location of the date (i.e 1 was by the bar, 2 next to that, etc etc all the way round the room) so when it says you have Mr xx at 23 you go and sit at 23 and wait until he finds his way around the room.

True to the ethos of this blog, I can't name names, and thinking up of 10 alternative names is just going to be confusing, so we'll just refer to the guys by their running order. Ok? Here we go..

#1 didn't turn up. This happened to a few people, so there were a few boys and girls sitting around with no date. This was OK, I'm alright at sitting on my own, and it was only a couple of minutes. I actually got chatting to the guy next to me, who turned out to be my #10. It was a bit weird, slightly 'Oh, shouldn't be talking to you yet! Save the best til last! Ho ho ho' etc, and he was nice, an Actor, Darling, but I was thinking, hmmm not totally looking forward to my 5 minutes with you, bit flamboyant for me! In front of me however, busying himself on his first date, was a rather fit guy, who I was really hoping was on my card for later. Time would tell...

#2 was a graphic designer, like moi, and a really nice guy. The dates go by SO fast so you're only just loosening up and getting past the 'what do you do for a living' questions by the time you have to move on. We had things to talk about though and he was quite funny, although a bit beard-y. I don't have a problem with beards per se, but I dunno. They're a bit scary. Would definitely see him again though.

#3 Also didn't turn up. Bit annoying. But while I was waiting for him, another guy approached me, who didn't seem to have anyone on his cards at all, slight clerical error there I imagine. He turned out to actually be my #9, so again we did the whole 'Oh better not talk to you then ho ho ho' but he seemed nice. I wasn't that attracted to him physically on first impressions, and isn't that what speed dating is all about? Never mind.

#4 ALSO didn't turn up. By this point I was on date 4 and had only had 1 of them. Not the fault of the organisers I'm sure, just bad luck on my part. While I was sitting all forlorn and alone (clocking fit guy from before, hoping he was on my card later..) another guy came to sit with me, who was clearly older. Much older. Like, 40. After a quick 'Do we have a date later? No?' we started chatting - I had no real interest in him but actually, he was really nice. A bit like talking to a friend of your dad's, admittedly, but still, nice. Hhe was a bit 'I've got my own business, we're really successful' which made me chuckle internally (some women go for that, I don't. Not yet anyway. Give me twenty years), but all in all, a pleasant bloke. I hope he found someone that night. It wasn't me, however.

#5 had dreads, which in itself isn't a big deal but after the lack of #4 and older guy I was a bit 'OMG a slightly alternative, cool guy, hurrah!' so perhaps launched in a bit strong. He was a great conversationalist, although slightly angry/pessimistic - he was telling me all about how he's a carer for his brother (which is wonderful) but how the council have screwed him over so now he has to quit his job and he only found out on monday... etc. A normally really interesting topic, and terrible for him too, but I felt the anger was a bit raw still and I didn't have a lot to say to his ranting. On a normal date I would have listened and discussed intently but in the space of a few minutes, it's quite a difficult topic. Nerves and all that though, I'm sure. I'm sure normally he's a great guy, was probably just an off day for him. Shame.

#6 was HILAR. Actually so funny. I didn't fancy him in the slightest but he was really great to talk to. He's a librarian, which isn't that amusing, but was telling some great stories. He also had a question, which I assume some people must do, have a random question they ask everyone on a speed date in case conversation dries up/get away from work. His question was 'If you had to have a sound effect for when you walked into a room what would it be?' to which I answered, incomprehensibly, an explosion. I don't know why I said that. KABOOM. But yeah. His was the Star Wars Imperial March thingy. Says it all really. Wouldn't see him again but thoroughly made me smile!

#7 turned out to be HOT GUY yeah! At first I thought it was another no-show, as I was sat in a booth with #10 (theatre luvvie) and his date, and they were getting on, and it was A-W-K-W-A-R-D so I got up to get a drink. When I came back, #7 finally turned up. Hurrah! He was from South Africa and we only had a couple of minutes together because he was late coming over but I managed to make him laugh within about 20 seconds (score) and we clicked straight away. I thought so anyway. All too soon our turn was over and we were both a bit sad. We were then told that because the event had started late, and the Burlesque show was about to start, we had to end it there! Boo. And those that hadn't booked tickets for the show had to leave, but there were after drinks at a nearby pub. Turned out #7 hadn't got tickets so had to go; I did, and thought it a shame to not watch the Burlesque, so let him go off to the pub. Perhaps I should have gone with him? We'll never know.

As I said, I'd already met my #9 and #10 anyway so didn't actually feel too cheated, and I met up with the PR girls afterwards who said that one of them had #8 and he wasn't all that, so perhaps I didn't miss out. It was good to dissect our dates a bit and we seemed to agree on the people we had shared!

The Burlexe show started soon after, and my, what a show. It was a mix of song, monologue and striptease, and I'll have to say, felt quite feminist/empowering. More for the ladies perhaps. Anyway, I was sitting in a booth with the PR girls when 3 guys asked if they could sit with us because everywhere was full. We said fine, but I don't think they had really thought about it, or knew what they were letting themselves into, because I think they quickly realised the awkwardness of the situation of watching naked girls dance with 3 unknown young girls with them. I felt awkward anyway... These guys must have been late 30s/40ish. I was having a great time, it was really interesting, the dancing and the monologues, but I don't think they had quite realised it was going to be like that; they looked like they just wanted to be in a place where they could shout 'TITS! Yeah' and ogle ass cracks (ha) but this was definitely more of a high-brow, intellectual event. Lots of stories about the founders of Burlesque and the hardships they had to go through, etc. One of the dancers was a transvestite (a very good one, I might add, really funny) and one of the guys kept speaking to me, and at one part asked if 'Trannies still have their tackle?!' with a slight panicked voice. I don't know, I said, (nor did I care, he's[she's? argh] got great tits. Look at them!) I suspect that the man in the booth with me cared though, a lot, and I thought, "you're in Soho, surely you should expect this a bit?"
Edit: You might have come to this post through the Burlexe facebook page (hello!) and apparently it's being questioned if she actually WAS a transvestite; I apologise, I definitely recall the dancer being introduced as the 'best transvestite in London' but maybe I misheard. Anyway. It was great. Argh! Minefield.

Anyway, it got to the interval and the girls I was sitting with said they were going to leave as they were going to dinner, nice to meet you, etc. Bye, I said. I then suddenly thought - if they go, I'll be here alone. With these guys, in this awkward situation. In this booth. Argh. So I had to leave too, even though I wanted to watch the rest. Never mind. Hopefully I'll get a chance to see it again, with some girlfriends and we can all have a giggly night!

So all in all? A good night. Not sure if I'll do speed dating again for a while; it maybe feels like something to do in your late twenties and onwards, perhaps not for me yet. But I had a great time, and maybe I'll see #7 again. Who knows?

Edit Edit: #7 wants my number! Breaking News! Exciting Announcement! Etc. So we shall see.... who will text first? It's all very exciting. 

The Guardian Columnist; Round 2.

Neither of us are as beautiful as these cinema-loving smiley people.

After our previous date, I didn't hear anything off MyLifeYourHands for a few days, until he texts me one night asking if I want to see a film the following evening. He had been invited to a press screening (glamorous lifestyle, jels) so wondered if I wanted to be his +1, and was I free? Yes I was... so I agreed, and then asked what film it was. Probably should have asked what film it was first, in retrospect. Turned out to be Friends With Benefits - you know, the one where the impossibly and depressingly beautiful people Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis agree to be fuck buddies with hilarious and poignant consequences. Ho ho ho, retch retch retch. But, I'd already said yes, and, I secretly enjoy terrible romcoms. A lot.

Actually, the film wasn't half bad. It was quite self-aware, knew that it wasn't breaking any new ground, had a funny, fresh script and made me laugh. I generally hate seeing romcoms on dates (oh the pressure), especially if there are sex scenes - I think I'd rather watch a sex scene with my parents than with someone I hadn't yet, but potentially could have, but you're not quite sure if you will, had sex with. Minefield. Field of mines.

It was fine though. He didn't do any lean-y over, hold-y hand shit during it (although didn't even attempt to... sulk), in fact he seemed slightly more interested in his phone. And this continued throughout the date actually, which perhaps should have set off more alarm bells than it did, but perhaps I am naive, or gullible, or just not as observant as I should be during a date with someone who writes about dates for a living.

It sort of went like this. He took a call straight after the film, from his editor or some such, (which is fine - phone calls are allowed...) and then apologised and said he had to tweet about the film for a bit, as that was his end of the deal for seeing the film for free. Fine, I said, no problem at all, especially as he explained there was no signal in the screening room and he was supposed to tweet throughout the film, so he had some catching up to do. Aha, that explained the phone checking.

Between the tweeting, our conversation was as engaging and interesting as ever, and I had a good time. We went on to a nice pub, had some nice wine, etc etc. I assumed the phone activity would stop after a while (how much can you talk about Justin Timberlake? Jeez) but it didn't. One minute we'd be talking quite animatedly about some topic or other (orange juice I think was brought up at one point) the next he'd literally trail off mid sentence to check his phone.

Most people would probably be like 'Yo, dude, what's with the phone?' (if they were ghetto), but I am not ghetto, nor am I particularly brave in social/date confrontations. What was I supposed to do? So I sort of ignored it, after all - it wasn't particularly annoying me, he seemed fairly interested in what we were talking about, but at the same time thinking, well, I can't say anything, otherwise he'll write to all his Guardian readers (there are a lot) and say I was some kind of whiny phone-hating orange-juice loving romcom-cynical short irate blonde girl. Or something.

Like I said, the actual date, minus the phone situ, was great again, but I quickly realised he definitely didn't like me - and that I was just someone available for his +1. Which was fine, really - I have been on many dates, you don't want to marry them all. The phone usage confirmed this to me. So imagine my surprise, my shock, when at the end of the date, he went to kiss me. I know! And, because of this confusion, it turned into a weird side of mouth kiss, then cheek kiss, and oh god he did actually try to kiss me and I didn't kiss him because I thought he hated me but he doesn't and wtf boys are WEIRD.

I got home, and check twitter. This is a usual thing, just as a pre-bed, oh good the world hasn't ended, I can sleep, sort of thing. This is my main twitter account I'm referring to by the way, not my @SingleGirlStory one - I hadn't started this blog back then. And what do I discover as I scroll through the past few hours? Mylifeyourhand's tweets are quite frequent tonight. Very frequent. He's talking about a date. He's talking about OUR date. LIVE. That's what he was doing! He wasn't just talking about the film, he was discussing me and the things I was saying! With his scary Guardian twitter followers! This was not in the contract. I was fine with being written about in the column (as was clearly not going to happen here, and never was) but this was live - and, by very virtue of twitter, conversational. I usually have no problem with strangers listening to my musings (case in point, this blog) but on my terms. Not secretly! Argh!

If he had said beforehand, listen I have to live tweet our date, I would have been a bit, hmmm... ok, and I would probably have been fine with it - I understood his column totally and was quite willing to be part of the circus of it. I would just say, can you let me know what you're writing or let me know when you're tweeting, so I don't think I'm boring you; or, more importantly, I wouldn't have said all these stupid off the cuff kooky things that make me look like a crazy, in the first place. Not so cute now is it, single girl? All these things you were saying to what you thought was one person, but was actually about 2 million! (Slight exaggeration. I don't actually know how many followers he has. More than 10. Less than a million. Probably.)

He said some nice things, yes, I won't deny that - something about my shoes matching my glasses (totes intentional, er.. yeah) and how hot I am (may have made that up) etc, but also berated me for drinking my wine too slowly (it's a worknight, I'm not an alcoholic?) and also twisted a couple of things I said - I assume to make it more interesting for his followers. I recall the hashtag #shouldIbeworried? being used.

Oh yes, you bloody well should. Fuming, was I. He hadn't referred to me by name, or twitter handle, at all, which was good obviously, but it was more the fact that I seemed to have been used for entertainment for his twitter followers. As far as I could tell, I was only good enough for a second date if various people throughout the land could all get involved and share and discuss my quirky conversational strategies. Fail, utter utter fail.

Anyway, reading through, he also tweeted about the disastrous end of date kiss, admitted it was disastrous (thank god) and asked his followers whether he should text me now to apologise or wait til tomorrow? This was weird. Should I just watch and wait and see. Should I just text him so taking the decision off his hands? And why was I stuck in this vortex of weirdness? Why?

I figured I may as well text. I didn't want to launch into an angry text tirade (I wasn't that angry - just a little shocked I suppose) so just went for the softer approach - said that I've just seen your twitter, I didn't realise you were live tweeting, that's why I didn't kiss you because I didn't think you were interested. And yes the kiss was weird but if I thought you liked me I would've kissed you back. Maybe next time. Or something along those lines. He replied, apologised, the usual. The end.

I went to bed in self-annoyance and a little alcohol-induced upset, cursing my bad luck with these strange men and strange dates, and cursing this stupid hellhole people call 'being single'. It's bloody difficult, that's what it is!

The next day I woke up and I was fine. Silly me.

I'm still confused as to why he tried to kiss me though - because he can't have liked me that much if he was tweeting about me - but I guess I'll never know. I was annoyed at him for a while but I forgave him because I think he is actually a nice guy; just perhaps got taken in by the power that his column gave him. And I got an amusing story out of it too, didn't I? Maybe he was forced into doing it and felt guilty and that's why he kissed me. Aren't boys strange?

Moral of the story: Don't go on dates with boys who write about their dates. I realise this is ironic. Maybe, don't go on dates with boys if you know they write about their dates. Ignorance is bliss.

My First Dating Horror Story; The Crazy American, Part 2

And so, on with the story! Read Part 1 of this comedy of errors right here.

You might remember we somehow ended up in Starbucks. I'm not one to be defeated early (oh no) so we sat down and got chatting. I had realised early on that even though he said he was American, his accent was... strangely not. I asked him why this might be. "Oh, it's a really complicated story, I'll tell you when I've had some caffeine in me."

He drinks his soy latte. (Ew.)

"Well, basically, my parents got divorced when I was young, they lived in America, my mum moved back to England and I went with her."

Gosh, that WAS a really complicated story, I'm so glad you had your caffeine fix to help weave your way through the intracies of the situation.

So we carried on chatting, quite interesting conversation, this and that, but I'd already decided pretty much that this was going nowhere. I wasn't really attracted to him (especially his crazy hair) and he seemed to be trying way too hard to come across as a bit bohemian/kooky/creative.

I asked him where he lives - he literally pointed out of the window and said "there." Wow, you've arranged a date 20 seconds from your house. I've had to travel 35 minutes to be here, and a further 30 minutes to get home. This is going well. He asked me where I live, so I told him, describing it as 'south of London Bridge' when I was met with a blank stare.

He then starting SINGING 'London Bridge is falling down.' SINGING.

I was like, "Er.. yeah.. that's the one..."

Christ.

By this point it was about 8,15pm, and I was thinking of ways I could escape. The lateness, just got out of bed look (he clearly obviously HAD just got out of bed), the weird hangover excuse, not knowing the clocks had gone forward, the nil-restaurant happening, Starbucks, having no money to pay for Starbucks and the singing, had all added up to a big fat GOD HELP ME. Uncreatively I just said "Well... it's getting late, work tomorrow, you know, I'd better go..." To which, he, incredulously, asked if I wanted to sleep in his roommate's vacant bed. How well does he think this is going?! (Side note: He was at one of those american-style Uni's somewhere in London where they share their bedrooms, hence roommate. So he was basically asking if I wanted to sleep in the bed next to his, on a first date.) I, baffled, said, no, thanks, still with the getting to work issue... you know...

I was quite prepared to be out until 10/11pm in a nice Mexican restaurant drinking wine, but no, I was in some form of Starbucks Hell so the evening had to be terminated quickly. He walked me to Kings Cross Underground, thankfully, a full 3 minutes away, and I said the usual (but completely untrue on this occassion) "Well, I had a lovely evening..." He then went a bit quiet and asked, "Is this not good?" At first, in horror, I thought he meant the date - had I hurt his feelings with my fairly transparent brush off? Was he going to suddenly demand my reasons for not staying later, or - horror - not staying in his room?! I obviously looked confused because he asked it again, but this time pointing at himself, his head.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

And with a tug at his hair, he pulled it off. It was a wig. HE WAS WEARING A WIG. Underneath, there was his normal hair I'd seen in his photos.

Spluttering, disbelieving, I asked why the hell he was wearing that?! "Dunno, bought it yesterday, thought it was quite cool, might wear it tomorrow" he said with a grin.

I literally waved and ran down the stairs to the tube.

The whole journey home I couldn't believe what had just happened - not only the wig, but the whole evening. Was it a joke? A set up? I'll never know, but it was pretty fucking weird. I started to feel a bit sorry for the guy - was that his way of being a bit different and impressing someone? Who knows. Who cares, to be honest.

When I got home, I had a message - "Underneath my real hair, I'm bald, and underneath that, I'm a robot hahaha!"

Delete.