Dating option number three. Round two

I’ve complained before that online dating in America is a minefield. America may be the land of the free, but it’s also the land of the free to lie about your height, weight, looks, career. Most people I meet, with just one exception so far, are fatter, older, shorter, less shiny, less sparkly versions of their on-line personas. I never had this problem in London. I mainly used a site called loveandfriends.com, and every person I met was exactly what I expecting. I made some great friends and always enjoyed the experiences.

My theory is that it's much, much easier to meet people in person when you're out & about in New York than it is in London, where asking random people out is still not the norm. Therefore the people on-line dating in London are more normal, whereas the ones on-line here in Manhattan are often the ones who really find it a challenge to meet dates in the real world. (Plus, of course, out of towners, and shy people.)

The only person I’ve met in New York who didn’t enhance their profile was S, the guy I dated last summer, who didn’t actually write a profile. He just filled his on-line form with non-sequitors and bonkers-ness, his theory being you’d either get it. Or you wouldn’t. And he was exactly what I was expected: sexy, intelligent, amusing, leftfield.

So to dating option number three. So, recap, we never made it on our first date as my friend X ended up in hospital. He then went on holiday for two weeks. Monday afternoon we emailed & he suggesting meeting that evening on his way home from work. That gave me precisely twenty minutes to get ready and to the subway to meet him.

I’ve never, ever gone out in the evening wearing jeans (well not for since pointy high heels, boot cut jeans, & sparkly tops were the last word in hip, and & that’s a looooong while back), but twenty minutes? Not a lot of time for putting together a hot date outfit. So laundry day meant jeans, loose navy cotton dobby top, gold chains, beige suede wedge platforms were just going to have to do.

I saw him from across the street and just thought, yup, another one. Short, plump, geeky. He was kind and sweet, a perfectly pleasant guy with whom to have an early evening drink, but dynamism wasn’t his outstanding characteristic. If we hadn’t had our professions in common, there would have been little to talk about.

He chose a bar round the corner, which is where the evening became more memorable. The guy sitting just inside the door turned out to be a guy from a magazine called ooh, let’s call it Bonfire, with whom I went on a blind date last spring. Of all the bars in Manhattan…

Two days before my date with Bonfire guy, I had been invited to a Bonfire party at Barney’s. I hadn’t wanted to mention it to Bonfire guy in case he hadn’t been invited (magazines don’t always invite all their editors to see & be seen dos) & I didn’t want to embarrass him or be seen to be showing off

Turns out I needn't have been so thoughtful of his feelings as he was all about the showing off, as he was exceptionally pleased with himself for working at Bonfire. (He'd mentioned it in his very first email to me. I never tell people my name or who I work for.) Anyway he was there at the party, & we both recognized each other. The first question he asked me was why I was there. Because I was invited, I replied.

Fast forward to our date. Two minutes in he started heavily interrogating me as to why I was at the party, & who I knew to get invited. This really, really pissed me off. I really didn’t see why I had to play that game. Friendship or relationships should be based on chemistry & compatibility not social usefulness. Anyway, eventually I just cut it off with a raised eyebrow and an ironic ‘because I’m just very, very important’. He let it drop. We sat & chatted and went our separate ways.

We’ve had no contact since but what made me chuckle was that he was obviously on a blind date too. And whenever he thought I was looking over at him, he started leaning into to her across the table, and then relaxing back when he thought our attention had strayed. I’m afraid I ignored him. Very mature, LLG.