Orrighty then!
The erudite (which isn’t a rude word even though it sounds like it might be) Miss Lee-Anne, from the intellectually titillating and amusing, Is it just me? Has tagged me in a ‘One Lovely Blogger’ award mandating me to write seven random facts about meself.
Honestly… can you all put your hands up if you’re sick to the jowls of reading 'facts' about the humdrum peculiarities of moi.
That’s what I thought…
So with that consensus in mind I’ve decided to write about the seven most disastrous dating experiences I’ve ever had.
Many of the ladies who I’ve read about on their blogs... and others I have met in real life, haven’t even dated seven different men.
Honestly… can you all put your hands up if you’re sick to the jowls of reading 'facts' about the humdrum peculiarities of moi.
That’s what I thought…
So with that consensus in mind I’ve decided to write about the seven most disastrous dating experiences I’ve ever had.
Many of the ladies who I’ve read about on their blogs... and others I have met in real life, haven’t even dated seven different men.
Whilst I don’t want to present myself as a wanton woman we need to be realistic here.
I didn’t marry for the first time until I was twenty-nine. My second blissful marriage did not occur until after three years of dating ‘singledom’… so there has actually been plenty of extra-curricular time for ‘dating’ and please don’t forget you must also factor in the reality I’m extraordinarily OLD (in dog years even) and have therefore been around longer than most old boilers.
So here we go…
1. Out with the girls one night in Sydneytown when I was about twenty-two, I met a man (who had that ‘married’ look about him) and my friends and I wound up having a group dinner with him and his mates. He asked me out to dinner a-la-solo the next weekend and I tipsily agreed.
I didn’t marry for the first time until I was twenty-nine. My second blissful marriage did not occur until after three years of dating ‘singledom’… so there has actually been plenty of extra-curricular time for ‘dating’ and please don’t forget you must also factor in the reality I’m extraordinarily OLD (in dog years even) and have therefore been around longer than most old boilers.
So here we go…
1. Out with the girls one night in Sydneytown when I was about twenty-two, I met a man (who had that ‘married’ look about him) and my friends and I wound up having a group dinner with him and his mates. He asked me out to dinner a-la-solo the next weekend and I tipsily agreed.
When the night arrived I chickened out at the eleventh hour and was forced by my flatmate to hide, giggling in my bedroom cupboard while she told him I’d never arrived home and was probably out with my friends. I’ve never forgiven myself for this abhorrent behaviour and can only defend myself with the folly of youth.
2. At about the age of twenty-three I was fancy-free on a Friday night and happened to meet an architect at a party who, perhaps imprudently, made a date with me for the following Friday night.
2. At about the age of twenty-three I was fancy-free on a Friday night and happened to meet an architect at a party who, perhaps imprudently, made a date with me for the following Friday night.
The very next night at another shin dig I met another architect who I made a date with for the following Saturday night.
The first architect took me to a little restaurant in Sydney’s Eastern suburbs called ‘Mario’s’ followed by a movie, “Stop Making Sense” featuring the band du jour, Talking Heads.
The next night (Saturday), my subsequent architectish date took me to a strangely familiar movie, “Stop Making Sense” followed by a romantic dinner at none other than… ‘Mario’s restaurant for Wayward Women’.
Do I need to describe the waiter’s face when he stared into mine whilst hesitantly pouring my red wine on that second date.
All I can say is, from my experience… architects are a bit boring and predictable and neither prospects came to fruition.
3. Is this getting boring? Okay… there was another bloke who (on the first date) showed me a scrap book of which the highlights were newspaper clippings of him winning the athletics medal for 500 metres (12 year old division) and a mention of his high jump success in grade eleven.
The next night (Saturday), my subsequent architectish date took me to a strangely familiar movie, “Stop Making Sense” followed by a romantic dinner at none other than… ‘Mario’s restaurant for Wayward Women’.
Do I need to describe the waiter’s face when he stared into mine whilst hesitantly pouring my red wine on that second date.
All I can say is, from my experience… architects are a bit boring and predictable and neither prospects came to fruition.
3. Is this getting boring? Okay… there was another bloke who (on the first date) showed me a scrap book of which the highlights were newspaper clippings of him winning the athletics medal for 500 metres (12 year old division) and a mention of his high jump success in grade eleven.
I wanted to run away screaming but I just smiled and feigned hyperventilation allowing my escape.
4. Alright…I can’t deliver seven without causing you all to hate my guts... so I’ll finish with this one.
For a while (in my early twenties) I went out with a twin. He was quite (very) good-looking but I couldn't tell him apart from his brother... which really used to upset him for some reason.
4. Alright…I can’t deliver seven without causing you all to hate my guts... so I’ll finish with this one.
For a while (in my early twenties) I went out with a twin. He was quite (very) good-looking but I couldn't tell him apart from his brother... which really used to upset him for some reason.
One night after quite a few fermented beverages I (apparently) slammed his hand in the car door, breaking two of his fingers and inflicting considerable pain (think hospital).
I'm fairly sure I broke the final straw a few days later when he picked me up for a romantic dinner and I sweetly and naively enquired as to what was wrong with his heavily bandaged hand.
I'm fairly sure I broke the final straw a few days later when he picked me up for a romantic dinner and I sweetly and naively enquired as to what was wrong with his heavily bandaged hand.
Now it's my turn to award (dob in) some other bloggers for this award, so... these brilliant ladies can have a go at seven random facts about themselves.
Rae Hilhorst from I opened my mouth and it ran away with me!
Kathy from 50 Shades of Age
and Kat from Mammas Vida
Go for it girls, I know you'll do better than me!
P.S. Don't forget to check out,
Got any disastrous date stories?