It’s not about the money, money, money

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I’d been seeing a guy for a little while. He had some strange habits, including texting me to warn me that I probably shouldn’t be dating him*.

One of these texts simply read: “I don’t have the money to have a girlfriend right now”.

I’ve often puzzled over that text. Girlfriends aren’t commodities to be bought. Sure, money makes life easier but being with someone isn’t about money; companionship isn’t measured out with bouquets of flowers and dinner at The Ivy. 

If you don’t have money to burn, just cut your cloth accordingly. Go for a walk in the park. Go to a museum. Make your sweetie cheese on toast and a cup of tea. Make them a card, write them a song, give them a back-rub.

Or, send them a nice text. Rather than one suggesting that they’re only in the relationship for the money.

 

*Yes, I know, I know. He’d also regularly warn me that he was unreliable and emotionally damaged. For some reason, instead of running for the hills, I decided that I’d be the one to give him some emotional stability. Inevitably, I failed.

I Don’t Remember Inviting You

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I was having a drink with a mate in a bar, and we got chatting to a guy.
The three of us were single, and talking about dating. I mentioned that I’d been on some lousy dates, and wondered if I’d ever meet the right fella for me.
The guy then leaned in and said: “Don’t worry. You’re totally fuckable. I’d totally fuck you right now”
WELL, THANKS.

Service with a Smile

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Kate’s sent in some splendid lines from various terrible, terrible dates.

Like this one. 

“That waitress is a bit fucking rude. Do you want me to punch her for you?”

Thanks Kate!

Three’s a Crowd

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Thanks Joe for sending in this story:
“I was 15 and very excited to have met a girl who went to an entirely different school. This was big news. We’d been on one date to the cinema, it had gone well, hands had been held, and I was looking forward to what I thought was our second date.

The best night of my life

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I got chatting to a cute guy at a bar. He seemed nice enough but I didn’t think much of it; turned out he was a lot younger than I’d first thought, and we didn’t have anything in common. Indeed, it turned out pretty quickly that we were interested in entirely different things.

Continue reading The best night of my life

AM I MAKING YOU NERVOUS? AM I?

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Here’s Jonesy with the story of a strange date:

“I got chatting to Sara on-line, we laughed, we flirted, she knew her Marvel superheros, it was all good. Seizing the moment I suggested we meet up for a coffee the next day, it was a public holiday, neither of us were working, weather looked good, what could possibly go wrong?

Continue reading AM I MAKING YOU NERVOUS? AM I?

Hundekacke*

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Thanks Tommy for sharing this story:

“I’d been messaging Jakob online for a few days. His messages were succinct – efficient to the German-engineered standards you’d expect – but I assumed he’d be less awkward in person.

Thirty seconds into the date, as his 6’4″ frame lurched over my mere 5’10”, I could tell he wasn’t my future gay husband.

Five minutes in, he’d slagged off my job. I’m an accountant. He’s an accountant.

Ten minutes in, he’d called me fat.

Fifteen minutes in, he’d started talking about his dog he’d had to give up. Who would’ve thought, London landlords not appreciating puppy mess on their sofas?

Forty-five minutes in, he was still talking about his dog. I’d tried looking bored, I’d tried changing the subject: ‘You know, I’m more of a cat person!’, I’d implored. The bastard still hadn’t bought me a pint back.

An hour in, he hit me. Playfully. But he hit me.

Four hours in – why was I still there? Because I’m British and he damn well owed me a pint – he tried to kiss me. I responded: ‘AAANNNNRRHHHGGH!’

‘Is that a good thing or a bad thing?’

Facepalm.”
Thanks Tommy! If you’ve got a dating disaster to share, then please click here.

*a German friend assures me that this means “dog poo”.

We’re going to the Zoo, Zoo, Zoo.

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We met at a bar. We drank too many cocktails and swapped numbers. Two weeks later, he called me:

Him: “Do you fancy meeting up this Friday?”
Me: “Sure, that’d be lovely”.
Him: “Do you fancy going to the zoo?”
Me: “Not really. I’m going to the zoo next weekend with my mates. I don’t want to go twice in two weeks, thanks”.
Him: “But I really want to go to the zoo.”
Me: “Yeah, I don’t, really.”
Him: “But the zoo’s great.”
Me: “I know it’s great. That’s why I’m going next weekend.”
Him: “But I’ve already got tickets for us to go the zoo.”
Me: (exasperated) “Fine. That’s fine then. We’ll go to the zoo.”

So, we went to the zoo.

A date that features otters should be magical. This wasn’t a magical date.Without the lubrication of cocktails, our conversation dried up pretty quickly. There’s only so much time you can spend talking about how cute the penguins are. We went our separate ways, knowing we’d never speak again.

Still, at least he got to go to the sodding zoo.

BT are hateful

I’ve been without broadband for the last day or so. BT are being utterly hopeless about fixing it; they can’t even work out what the problem is.

New posts to follow as soon as I’m online (pecking this out on phone, not great)

Hannah x

Bleeding love

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Thanks Brenna for sending in this – frankly horrifying – story:

“About ten years ago, I was on my third date with this guy and we ended up back at his apartment. We had seen a movie together (“Ray,” I think it was) and he had just barely touched my hand as we were leaving the theatre. In his apartment, we sat on his Chesterfield and he started kissing me very passionately. After a few minutes, he stopped and said, ‘I’m very sorry, but I’ve made a mess of you.’ Continue reading Bleeding love

Full speed ahead

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Here’s Val with the tale of an over-keen suitor:

“We met at a friend’s party, and hit it off. There was some light snogging.

After the party, he sent me an email declaring that 1) I was the woman for him, 2) that he wanted to have kids with me.

Whereas I was 1) wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake by snogging him, 2) unsure if I wanted to have kids with anyone, let alone him.

Not only that, but he lived a long way away. It seemed crazy to get into a long-distance relationship with someone I really wasn’t sure about.

I thought I’d try and let him down gently. I explained that, while he was a lovely guy, I didn’t think we were right for each other.

‘But I’ve already decided I’m going to move to London to be with you!’ he announced.

That didn’t help.”

Thanks Val!
If you’ve got a story to share, please click here.

Yu-gi-oh-no!

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Today’s tale is from Bob:

“She opened with talking for an entire hour about her ex boyfriends, and followed that by talking for 40 minutes solid about her Yu-gi-oh!* card collection. She was in her early 20s and the date was 3 months ago. Is Yu-gi-oh! still a thing?”

Apparently so. Thanks Bob!

*For anyone who isn’t aware that Yu-gi-oh! ever was a thing, it’s some sort of trading card game thing that I don’t understand. To be honest, I even find their website perplexing: http://www.yugioh-card.com. There was also a related TV series, which made my brain hurt, but I’ve aped its style for this illustration.

Haters Gonna Hate

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Him: “Hannah, I’ll tell you who I can’t stand. Teachers. What a bunch of boring, bossy bastards.”

Me: “You know I teach, yes?”

Him: “I didn’t mean you. Your work’s interesting, you teach music. I mean people who teach primary school kids.”

Me: “I teach primary school kids”.

Continue reading Haters Gonna Hate

“You think I’m going to attack you?”

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Thanks Kate for sending in this skin-crawling story:

“I’ve now had three rape jokes made at me on first dates. This one is my ‘favourite’:

Me: “I’m not sure going for a walk in an isolated spot by a river is so advisable, really”

Him: “What, you think I’m going to attack you or something?”

Me: (Very uncomfortable laugh) “Ha… er, well, no, but…”

Him “Well, there would be one problem with raping you, wouldn’t there? You see, if I rape you now, you’ll be wise to me next time, and then I’ll only get to have sex with you once.”

Continue reading “You think I’m going to attack you?”

false pretences

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Getting the last tube home one night, the chap sitting opposite me struck up a conversation. He told me he worked in finance, I told him I was a writer and musician. He told me his niece was looking for music lessons, and said he’d pass my number on to her.

Now, I did wonder if it was just a line, but potential work isn’t to be sniffed at, so I gave him my number.

The niece never called me. Instead, I received numerous messages from said bloke, telling me how lonely he was, and asking if I’d go for a drink with him.