ringlessandreckless

This one seemed kind of promising and, against my better judgement, I dared to let myself think, ‘he seems normal enough’.

In case you think these stories are in chronological order, they are not. My dating life has been chaotic enough that putting these in order is something I am frankly not arsed doing. So I am jumping around a bit, think of it like a lucky dip of the last 6 months- you’re welcome!

It was a Saturday afternoon, another hot one. I was at home getting ready for an engagement party for two good pals of mine. I was getting distracted as I was having good chats and banter with this handsome carpenter I had just matched with on Bumble. We will call him John. So John and I were messaging like teenagers, thumbs on fire, the messages were coming thick and fast. There was so much ground covered, flirting, cheeky comments, compliments, you name it. We moved to WhatsApp after a few hours, he gave his number while confidently telling me ‘ I might as well give you your winning lotto numbers’. Lord!

So off I went for a blow dry. Sitting there giddy still messaging John. He then quickly said ‘right I will cut to the chase, how about a date, are you free tomorrow? Again, I love a man who takes initiative, like really love, but given my night that lay ahead and my inability to ‘just have a few, nothing mad’ I was slightly worried that maybe I might not be as fresh as I would like to be. Anyways, I agreed to meet him and mentally made a promise to myself to not totally write myself off. I felt bad as he was coming up from Roscommon to meet me- dog in tow and all! I couldn’t arrive, absolutely dying.

I don’t drink much these days unless I am going out for a meal with the girls (our bi-monthly-ish ‘supper club’) or an occasion. I haven’t started drinking at home alone yet, although give it time, I am still newly single. 

So we had a great night! Everyone let their hair down, maybe a little too much. The singles, newly engaged and the mums gone wild- it didn’t matter we were all dedicated to the cause of celebrating the newly- engaged couple, it was like the responsibilities of children, work, and last minute dates didn’t exist! We were all equally loose, standing on benches singing and almost falling into plants on Grand Canal Street ( I will own that one). 

So the next morning came and I woke up with a fairly pounding head and thought “Oh f@&k!”

So I tried to sleep it off a bit, I had time, we weren’t meeting until 4pm. The original meeting point was Glendalough, but that changed after my friend convinced me all the way from Sydney that maybe this was not very safe as it was slightly off the beaten- track, no signal, no one around and a vast open space. So the venue was changed to the Phoenix Park, probably safer I suppose. For us women, a date can involve a strange combination of flirting, chemistry and quietly assessing whether the man who you are sitting opposite might murder you. I kinda fancy him yeah but let me just make sure my sister and mum have my ‘find my’ turned on to track me and know my location at all times. Ah, romance!

So as I gradually start making shapes to get showered and dressed I feel a bit hard done by with the hangover I have. I couldn’t have had that much, I only had a few glasses of prosecco and 1 or 2 cocktails, didn’t I? Obviously not, sure the generous couple were plying us with free champagne and prosecco and on open bar for a while, followed by more cocktails and shots. So, ok maybe I did deserve this headache, but poor John- he did not!

Anyways, I managed to rally and leave the house. I walked outside, car keys in hand and my car was nowhere to be seen. “Dude, where’s my car?” Oh my god, what a dope, my car was at the DART station. I totally forgot I had driven and hopped on the DART the evening before. Poor John. I rang him to tell him what had happened, needless to say I was embarrassed. I am sure he was thinking, oh god what on earth have I signed up for meeting this one. He was very nice and told me not to worry and take my time, and that he and his furry sidekick Lily were almost there. I ordered a taxi to come get me to take me to my car that I forgot was parked in the DART station, another first for me. I felt awful at my tardiness, but also too delicate to drive in any way to make me arrive any faster!

I arrived at the Phoenix Park and spotted the van. Hard to miss. The man with a van and his dog. I parked behind him. I got out and went over and said hello, a friendly hello and a hug. He looked at me and laughed and said ‘well, how’s the head?’ In a very thick Roscommon accent. One I almost needed subtitles for- genuinely. I lied and said not as bad as I probably looked. He told me I looked lovely, which I appreciated. A little white lie never hurt anyone. 

So, the afternoon passed and the conversation flowed easily enough. I must say dogs are a bloody great ice- breaker. She was super cute and she seemed to like me. At one point jumping up on me as we sat on the bench and got her paw stuck in my top and pulled it down a bit. I tried to be cool and nonchalant and pull it back up, but not before John noticed and  said “good work Lily!’ and laughed. He was funny and cheeky. 

After 3 hours of walking and talking he asked if I was hungry. I have learned this is the crucial part of the date where the rest of it hinges on this question. I have usually made up my mind in the first five minutes of meeting this person whether or not I will ‘grab a bite’ or offer any more of my precious time. Regardless of whether I am starving or not. Either I am hungry and will have a bite with the guy or I have to head off to an appointment or emergency situation that needs my attention. Luckily I have not needed to use these, yet.

So we grabbed a bite to eat at wow burger. It was tasty, my delicate self was satisfied and feeling better with the greasy feed. However, he was mortified. He was embarrassed that we were having a burger and chips with no cutlery. I reassured him I did not mind at all, this was perfect. I did however mind that he ordered garlic chips, not the type you think with actual garlic sauce, these had shavings of grated raw garlic over them. Oh christ, if he leans in for a kiss what will I do. I wasn’t in the mood for my gag reflexes to be tested that evening, between the garlic and his teeth. Let’s just say that he wouldn’t be getting the call for any Colgate ads anytime soon. I will leave it at that. 

So, the following week continued like the last, lots of chat, flirty banter and craic, except with the added layer of WhatsApp video calls, lots of them. Which was something I had never done before with someone I barely knew, but it really accelerated the process of getting to know someone and becoming very comfortable with them. It was weird, almost like you looked forward to these calls every day. Something to put in the time, not to sound harsh.

So all week we chatted, called, texted, sent pictures of our days, the normal stuff. 

It was still going well. I was trying hard to focus on the conversation and the fact that he was genuinely sound and funny, but the intrusive thoughts would creep in… oh god, those teeth. Unfortunately there was no flattering lighting or filters on those video calls, it was up close and personal on his good looking face and with the not so good looking teeth front and centre of the screen.

Am I a terrible person? People are not their teeth, but unfortunately their teeth are part of them. Teeth are a big part of your appearance, difficult to overlook. 

Is that shallow? Yes, probably. Is dating shallow? Yes, absolutely. Let’s be honest, online dating is literally judging and swiping on someone based on a few photos, an average bio and someone’s face before you’ve met them or gotten to know any of their personality, traits, sense of humour etc. Small things like teeth, height, hairline and socks with sandals start to become the not so little deal-breakers. 

Anyways, little did I know I wouldn’t need to worry for too much longer about all of that … .because I got dumped after date 1, week 1! 

The following weekend I was getting ready to go see Dermot Kennedy with my friend Sunday night in the Aviva. Again, the texting was full-on that afternoon. He wished me well and to have fun at the concert, with a little reminder; ‘don’t talk to any men!’ I was a bit perplexed and wondered if he was joking or not. Was he serious? Had we suddenly entered a relationship I was not informed of.

I replied with ‘excuse me, I will do no such thing! He came back with ‘ah Jesus no craic outta you today! I assured him and said I’m great craic, to which he said ‘doesn’t seem so!’ I said I would speak to him later and he again wished me well for the concert. So off I went, totally unaware I had failed the brief and was about to be dumped! 

The concert was brilliant, the night came and went. As we were walking to get the dart home, I saw my phone light up with a message from him. I didn’t open it for a while but could read it on my locked screen. It said: ‘Hope you enjoyed the concert, after our convo earlier I think we’ll leave it at that, best of luck with the dating’. 

Well!! Gob properly smacked! What the actual fuck?! I had no idea I’d gone to a Dermot Kennedy concert and come home single from a relationship I hadn’t realised I was in. Here was me worrying about being shallow when he said bye- bye over a perceived lack of craic. 

I mulled over various responses and had lots of conversations in my head and come-backs for him, but in the end with the help of my friend I went with the nice passive aggressive thumbs up reaction/ response to his message. He didn’t deserve much more, what a weirdo. Couldn’t be arsed getting into a back and forth with him. His loss. Dental floss.