So, after a smattering of emails and a handful of phone calls, I decided to meet up with our Michael... Candidate number 43. He seemed nice enough and his photo looked fairly appealing and after the previous week's fun with Franc I was feeling pretty positive about the whole dating thing.
I suggested traipsing through Greenwich park that Saturday afternoon - nice open public space, and near my own backyard should I need to escape. As usual, I texted a friend with as many of his personal details as I had to hand and off I went to wait outside some shops a short distance from my house.
I figured I'd better not make the same mistake twice a la not bothering to make myself look good when I met Franc et al... so THIS time I made sure everything was looking crisp before stepping out my house.
So there I was chilling by the curb, stifling a yawn and daydreaming when my phone rang: mr Michael was parked a short distance away. I started walking towards where he was -expecting him to be seated in one of the beat up cars.. but no - lo and behold he was in the '05 reg New shape Astra... hmmmm... I started to wonder what man who makes 25k p.a. can afford a brand new astra... but then maybe he's not paying rent now that he's moved back in with his mum?
I hover by the door expecting him to get out so we can go to the park. Nothing doing. He smiles and explains that he has to 'drop his mum somewhere' do I mind? with my finger on my rape alarm I hop in... Oh what a shock!
Once inside the vehicle the full deceit hits me... surely this cannot be the man in the photo? I want to burst out laughing; this geezer LOOKS a good ten years older than the guy in the photo and at least 15 years older than me. He smiles again and says something that I do not hear because the stench of his breath filling the car makes me feel quite faint. I ask whether he can roll down my window - seeing as how its all electric - and I keep my face pointed THAT way for the rest of the 10 min journey.
So besides his breath and the fact that he misses several green lights because he seems to be daydreaming instead of driving aaagh! - he was alright to talk to. Told me I was even prettier in person blah blah blah and all the while I kept thinking: ‘it’s a shame I can’t say the same about you'.
He asked me what I thought and not one to be rude - I simply said: ‘well you're bigger than your picture' - it was obvious he didn't know whether I simply meant that he was bigger than a 200 * 200 pixel image or whether I was saying he was fat. Oh didn't I mention that? He was fat. Skinny man in photo - fat man in front of me.
His mother was a lovely woman, eyeing my up with blatant curiosity - probably wondering what her son had done to get so lucky - HAH! After dropping her off at a local shop - he took me to Chumert Grove... and I was wondering what happened to my walk through Greenwich Park! Slightly disgruntled I followed silently as we walked to a small coffee shop. I wanted to laugh again as we passed a parade of trendy looking bars and restaurants... only to stop at the cheapest looking one on the end. This date was worth staying on if only for comic relief purposes man!
He asked what I wanted - I declined anything, he ordered a hot chocolate. My mirth increased as I watched him pick out change from his pocket, making wonder what would have happened had I asked for a meal! Trying not to act or feel like a snob, I tried to smile and be friendly as we sat down outside...
"I bet you haven’t seen this side of Peckham before' he boasted proudly, while I thought to myself: ‘No, nor did I particularly want to'. Instead of replying I stifled a yawn.
While he made small talk and slurped his hot chocolate (on this hot day), I found myself wondering how anyone could let their lips get so dry and crispy. Peeling bits all along the edges. A little lip balm from the Body Shop or the Nivea for Men range would go a long way here. Even a generous dollop of good old fashioned Vaseline would sort that out - I read a lot from the state of those lips. I mean, people see your lips everyday - if you can’t even be bothered to keep them looking healthy... I shuddered to think what the rest of him looked like... and man, there was so much of him to think about!
I sat there feeling very much like Thumbelina sat across from the old mole. "Find a happy place, Annette, find a happy place"
Alexander rang several times during my repose, a welcome respite from the sitcom unfolding before me.
Just when I thought it couldn't get much worse, he mentioned that my foot had touched his leg a few moments before. I hadn't noticed - and apologised.
He said “no, don't apologise... I liked it...”
I gave him one look and felt like a morsel about to be swallowed up by the ravenous wolf.
"find a happy place girl, find a happy place". I tucked my feet under my chair.
"So how do you feel about me?” he asked,
"I don't know" I replied
"You must know something" he pushed,
"I'm still assessing" I countered
"Don’t you have enough to go on?” he persisted,
"I don't like making snap decisions" I deflected.
"Well, I'm sure you have to make fast decisions everyday - you work in Derivatives don't you?"
"Yes,” I try not to roll my eyes - he obviously hasn't got a clue about what I do, "but when I make decisions I have all the information I need about the pros and cons of that decision before I make it.
"I find that hard to believe, you must use your instincts sometimes, what about when a stock is...”
I interrupt him: “As I told you before, I'm not a trader and I will never be - because I don't make decisions on gut instinct."
"Do you like men?" He asks.
I blink several times and resist the urge to claw his eyes out.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"Do you like men?"
"As opposed to what: Liking women?" I ask incredulously.
This then leads to some form of psycho-analytic conversation where he posits that the reason I am single and have been single for so long is because subconsciously I don't really like men, and if so why am I even bothering to try to be in a long-term relationship with one? I blink rapidly, hoping that if I blink fast enough - I can wipe this mirage from my eyes…No such luck - this Michael is for real and dead serious about what he's saying.
I start to explain that his question is flawed because it calls for a generalisation i.e. if someone asked me if liked left handed people - my answer will obviously reflect my terms of reference - so if all the left handed people I met gave me money - I would say ‘yes’. Doesn't mean that ALL left handed people are nice and generous... and so on. Anyway - stopped after a while cos I knew he didn't understand. I yawned and he suggested we leave. Yay!
He kept staring at me in the car, telling me how great I was and how taken with me he was. I just kept thinking - how did his head is so big, the folds of fat envelope his ears and bulge down the back of his neck... Luckily for me- my friend rang as if on cue - yelling and screaming down the phone in crisis mode and he offered to take me home immediately so I could help her.
I practically leapt from the car as he pulled up alongside the shops. "Call me later?" he smiled. I pretended not to hear.
I called my mate and we had a good giggle over the whole affair, little did we know it was not yet over.
I'd told Mr Michael, that I was meeting Alexander later that evening but was going back to bed first because I hadn't slept the night before.
Imagine my surprise when my phone rang at 10 p.m. that same day. Was this pay back for Alex calling during my time with Michael? I was NOT impressed. As it so happened, I hadn't met up with Alex after all because we'd both worked straight through Friday night and needed to catch up on some sleep. After muttering something hopefully incoherent, I explained to Michael that I was sleeping.
"So what are you dreaming about?" he asked, "something nice... like me?"
I almost hurled the phone across the room. "I'm sleeping" I said and hung up.
I checked my phone just before heading off for rowing the next morning; he'd called again at 2:40 am and 3 times between 8 and 8:30 am. I shook my head and laughed. After rowing - around a quarter to 1 - I noticed I had about a zillion missed calls, a couple from Alex asking whether we were still meeting that day, but tons from Michael - finally ending with him asking whether I was avoiding him.
Brutha please! Give me room to BREATHE! He wanted me to accompany him to some festival in Greenwich Park later that day - I declined. When I wanted to go to the Park you took me to a coffee shop. no thanks. Besides - I'd already told him I was meeting friends, so why was he trying it?
Went out and had an awesome afternoon/evening/night with Shaherah and Herve... with my phone switched OFF. Next day the following convo occurred by text:
"Good evening. I need some frank feedback. Are u still interested? If so, could you ever put a man as the most important thing in your life?"
I swear blood vessels were popping in my head... a man as THE most important thing in MY Life??? This dude was making develop a nervous tic... what about my kid, what about my faith? What about my career and my family? A MAN? stupse... I bit back my fire and replied with grace and poise after all it wouldn't be very nice if I replied and said: “I am not interested because you are fat and ugly and your breath stinks and your lips are like crackling"
"I'm still at work but will give you a quick answer since you NEED one. I did a lot of thinking after our conversation on Saturday and you were right - I don't really like men and given this point in my career I am unable or unwilling to put anyone other than my daughter first so it would be better for me to stay single. Perhaps given time my answer would be different but right here and now this is how I feel"
Even as I hit send I groaned, wishing I had deleted the perhaps if given time sentence... but hoping he wouldn't do what I thought he might... and indeed he did.
"Ok hun, take your time to answer, I'm in no rush to receive an answer on this. Do you feel that on the basis of what you've seen so far you could learn to love me?"
More popping of my veins, more rapid blinking. This guy is persistent! Or deaf...
"I'm sorry but unfortunately not. No. Like I just said I don't currently feel capable of loving any man at this point in my life so I'm not even gonna pretend. good luck with your search". There I thought. I've said NO. That's it now.
But no...
"Girl, I'm here if you ever want to talk. This is so frustrating. I'm a decent looking brother. Why can't I find anyone, he said?" (Yes he did write ‘he said’ in there) .
At this point I am thinking to myself 'dude, you're asking the WRONG person - I can’t even find anyone... how can I answer why YOU can’t find anyone?'
So I just tell him "your time will come" and get on with my reports for work. Next thing I know I get ANOTHER, yes, ONE MORE text:
"Good luck girl. Don't give up on men. Your future partner is in the Caribbean, He's a humble man living a humble life but he loves you and you him"
I almost fall of my chair... "What?" My partner what? When did you become Mystic Meg? And if there's one thing this whole thing has taught me - it’s that my partner will NOT be a man of humble means cos ain’t nobody dragging me down to the ghetto to count change for a coffee again. EVER.
So, out of the 49 responses I received for my profile - that leaves Alexander left as a prospective, and Chris1, Chris2, Clinton, Herve (via Franc) and Paul as mates.
Online dating - not as bad as it could be. Michael was the weirdest of the lot so that's 1/48 (excluding the freak who was looking for an exotic love tryst hahaha). The rest of them were pretty genuine normal (fairly) people. Not bad.
Anyway - my profile cometh down this weekend, which is also when Alexander and I will be going to an exhibition and for a walk along the Thames. *chuckle*
Stay tuned :)
Every day I am one blessed step closer to who I will be, one grateful step further from who I used to be, and still I revel in every minute that I am who I am.
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