Along my cobbled pit-filled road in the dating scene, I often stumble and fall down when it comes to the very essence of my travels, in that the concept of ‘dating’ eludes me. Or more so, it must elude the men I meet. Forgive me for still clinging to some form of traditional values, but isn’t dating meant to be just that, two people going on dates?
A lover’s tryst, so Cupid tells me, includes various of the following: drinks at a bar, dinner over candlelight, late-night cinema trips, walks by a river, shopping trips, country drives, takeaway nights in, weekends spent hanging out with friends, watching them play Football, watching you play Netball…and so on. Dating, by definition, is planned time to spend together getting to know each other. You’ve obviously got chemistry and an initial attraction to be planning on seeing each other soon, so surely the next obvious steps in your joint story playbook is to hang out, to date? No? Apparently not these days.
My boring endless reoccurring pattern in the London single scene is guys, aka Douchebags, using ‘dating’ as a cover story for their ulterior motive. They don’t wish to date, they wish to entertain you for as long as required until they get their manhood involved, then it’s so-long farewell goodbye adieu. At first my girlfriends, you will be convinced you two are dating. He’s a well-mannered gentleman. He texts all day, he calls most evenings, he tells you you’re pretty, he can’t wait to see you, heck he even plans a first date. Or maybe a second. And don’t be fooled, these really are actual ‘dates’. But not to get to know your inner feelings, oh no, it’s to size you up and for his own internal confirmation that he really does want to bang your lights out. Then once the first, second or third date (he’s tired now) are over, it’s operation get her back to my apartment and strip her down. I’m sure many men will disagree with me…will moan I am stereotyping, I am branding them all with the same rotten brush – well yes, I am. But don’t you dare try tell me I am wrong. Guys are rarely led by anything else in their life aside from sex and their urge for a half-decent orgasm that didn’t come from their right hand and a tube of lube.
So you’re rolling with it, ‘dating’ him, telling your girls how much fun you two have, how often he’ll call…and then you feel like it’s a perfectly acceptable time to drop your knickers. Or, like me, you are niave and think he really does just want you over to cook for you, or he suggests you go to his pad first before dinner reservations, so you can chill at his for a bit. You never make it to dinner, of course. And it’s not because you are a slag, or easy, it’s because he tries it on and you have convinced yourself his feelings for you run deeper than his fingertips, so you think it’s okay. Plus, you really do like him, and you want sex too. That’s fair. What isn’t fair is how suddenly this night of passion will turn his previous permanent ON switch into the OFF position, and there it will stay . For you anyway, his switch is already ON for another. Alas it is sad, but true. So with this is mind, it leads me to wonder…
When did ‘Dating’ become code for ‘Sexing’?
I don’t wish to be sexing anyone. Sexual gratification is not my driving force; it is a bonus CD disc that comes complete with the feature 1 disc – falling in love. Becoming friends, making memories, seeing where the cobbled dating path leads you, hand in hand. Yet somehow these ideals have been twisted along the way, and guys are using the phrase ‘dating’ completely out of context. They will swear blind it isn’t about the sex, they don’t care for sex, they like you bla bla fucking bla. I’ve seen it first hand and heard it second hand over and over and over and I am so fucking bored of listening to guys bullshit their way into bed with you. I’m over it. Oh, and FYI dudes, if you are going to be sexing a girl…just tell it to her straight yeah? She may well be glad of the honesty and fancies a sexing session herself. Maybe she doesn’t have time to date, or maybe she’s wary of investing emotions in anything in case the dude gets attached and she doesn’t want to play long ball. Don’t date her if you don’t want to actually date her, it’s as simple as that. Black and white.
But, before you all whatsapp your current potential and tell him to go take a running jump, ‘sexing’ isn’t for everyone. Aside from my earlier sweeping generalization, there is the old gem who will, by his very actions, prove he isn’t surreptitiously sexing you – he is fact dating you. OH MY WORD. I know right! And the reason I know these men do still exist somewhere is because, well, I have stumbled upon one myself. This guy, let’s call him Who, is a breath of fresh air. We met on a night out…and in an actual manner not akin to something out of a black and white movie, we walked past each other and then were walking ahead but staring back. I laughed because he was still looking at me…and then low and behold he’s walking back my way. He comes over, explains that he has 1% battery on his phone and simply has to take my number immediately. So far, nothing out of the ordinary right? A pretend datee would try the same. But I’ve not finished yet…
So he’s gone off to another club and I’m beginning to call it a night with my girls, when he texts me from his friend’s phone saying he has to see me…and can he come take me for a drink? It’s 1.30am. I am tired. I am in a kebab shop whilst my girl grabs some fast food, and then I think fuck this…I’m going back out to see him. So I did. He quite literally ditches his friends and leaves the club to come find a girl he’s glimpsed briefly in the street, and then buys me a drink and we proceed to chat until the very early hours…we got kicked out of the bar at closing! And when I say chat…I mean we CHAT. He doesn’t make any sexual references, but more spends time telling me how he can’t believe a stunner would be here, how nothing would have stopped him coming back to find me…and in a coy manner that made me melt, he asks if I would let him take me for dinner. It was fucking adorable. We spoke about his work, his plans after, about stupid stuff like going on holiday in Cancun, my apartment move…playing football even. It was fresh, fun and most importantly, it was real.
Since then, he’ll chat to me daily, but it’s none of the typical ‘trying to sway the conversation towards sex’ notion that various guys allude to in order to gauge how long their pretend ‘dating’ will last until they get you. Oh no, he talks to me about stuff I’d chat to my girls about. He calls me pretty at least 5 times a day. When I told him about my hectic schedule, he said it doesn’t matter because whenever is good for me, is good for him. How sweet? Like how sweet is this! He did ask for a photo once…and I immediately stuck out my porcupine spines and told him I don’t send half naked photos to guys I barely know…to which he responded that he meant just a photo of me in general so he could ‘see’ me again. This made me step back and realize the extent of what these sexing douchebags have done to me…they’ve replaced my naivety with cynicism and bitterness. I had to fumble an apology and face the hardcore fact – he doesn’t want to sex me. He wants to date me. He knows about Sex & London City and quite frankly didn’t even blink an eye-lid. He doesn’t care about my job…my ‘status’ … he just wants to DATE me. I know, I am still in disbelief. But it’s true. And to this day I’ve still not offered an exact date and time-frame on when I’ll go for dinner with him, but he isn’t phased in the slightest. Shall I stop talking about him now? Okay I will…but fuck me how long has it been since I’ve had something nice to say about guys? I’m rolling with it for as long as possible!