All posts by Hannah

Freelancer writer based in London. Also plays the piano and bakes a lot.

What are you smiling at?

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Here’s Bob with a tale of an awkward date:

“I was seeing a girl in the third year at university. We met up for a coffee one morning after a lecture. (Obviously, she’d been and I hadn’t. What do you take me for?)

We’d been chatting a little awkwardly in the way that newly dating couples do, and she seemed to be getting increasingly annoyed with me. The date culminated in her saying, “Why are you smiling? What are you smiling at?” – I was just being, y’know, friendly – at which point I thought discretion was the better part of valour and made my excuses. The next time we saw each other, I dumped her.

Her mate told me later that the night prior to SMILEGATE we’d consummated the relationship, I’d been blind drunk, had – ahem – not consummated the consummation, as it were, and had subsequently completely forgotten that it had even happened.

Tetchiness explained.”

Thanks Bob!

Taking the (Doggy) Biscuit

Did you see this news story? Some of my dates have been absolute stinkers, but this one really steals the crown.

Thanks Fiona for sending me the link!

 

Broadband update: I still don’t have any.
Bloody BT. Hoping to be back online (and therefore updating more frequently) in the next few days.

No Food For You

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He bought us tickets to the rugby. I *hate* rugby, but went along anyway, tempted with the promise of him cooking me a romantic supper afterwards.

During the match, I started feeling unwell. Back at his, he told me to go and have a nap while he cooked dinner, and that he’d wake me when it was ready.

I woke a while later, starving hungry. The flat was dark, and I couldn’t smell anything cooking. I ventured into the lounge, where my date and his flat mate were watching TV.

“Is supper going to be ready soon?” I asked.

“Well, I cooked it, but I didn’t want to wake you, so [my flatmate] and I ate it instead” came the reply.

I was famished. They’d finished the meal between them. There wasn’t so much as an offer of toast.

I sulked off home. We split shortly afterwards.

Game of Thrones

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Thanks Drakeygirl for sending in this story:

“This was a long time ago; I was young and my hair was a bit bouffanty. My limited experience of boys had been the odd snog and clumsy fumble at parties, so I was very excited to be going on my first ever, proper, actual date.

Continue reading Game of Thrones

I really really reaaaallly hate BT

Helloo.

No broadband for at least another week. Aaarrgghh.

So I should be able to schedule some posts, but apologies in advance for rubbishness in replying to your emails and comments.

In the meantime, I can heartily un-recommend BT as a phone / broadband provider.

Cheers
Hannah x

I really really really hate BT

I’ve got no broadband again, so probably won’t be able to update the site for a couple of days.

Cheers BT. Again.

While I’m here, here’s a little plea for more dating horrors… please do pass this site on to anyone that might have a story to share.

And massive thanks to everyone who’s sent one in… It does take me a while to get the drawings done, but your story should appear eventually!

Thank you
Hannah x

“Didn’t he mention me?”

 

I still cringe thinking about this one. It’s not so much a Winning Line, more of an aftermath.

I used to move around the country with my job. One particular contract took me to the Midlands, where I met up with an ex-colleague. We started seeing each other, all very casually, until things ended naturally when I moved to London

A few months later, I bumped into another ex-colleague from the same place.

Continue reading “Didn’t he mention me?”

Petty Change

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Who do you expect to pay for dinner on a date? I’ve got a number of friends who expect the man to pay (regardless of whether they intend to see him again). Personally, I prefer to go halves.

I’m on the date to figure out if I like someone or not; not to eat for free. If my date offers to pay for me, that’s lovely, but I’d only accept if I definitely wanted to go on a second date.

If I’m out with friends going out for a meal, I don’t want to quibble over the bill. I’m out to enjoy time with my friends, not calculate how many breadsticks I’ve eaten and skew the bill accordingly. Of course it’s different if one of your party is on a budget, or the bill is otherwise unfair (say, you’re the teetotaller and everyone else has had four bottles of champagne), but in general, I refuse to quibble over a few quid here and there. Just split the bill and be happy you’ve had a lovely evening.

So, having got that off my chest, let me tell you about the date with the chap with no manners. I’m already aware that I’m going to sound very petty.

We walked to Wagamama; he opened the door and walked in first. I’d always hold a door for the person behind me; he let go and it slammed into my face. Not the best of starts.

I ordered a bowl of noodles and a tap water.

He ordered a bowl of noodles, two sides of dumplings, another side order of skewers, a beer and a juice.

All his food came within five minutes. There was no sign of my dish. Before I’d even had a chance to tell him to go ahead and start, he was scarfing down his food.

Five minutes passed. My food still didn’t arrive.  I sat there, staring at his numerous dumplings, silently willing him to offer me one. It seemed rude to ask.

Another five minutes passed. He looked up from his food at me.

“Oh, you still don’t have your food?”
“No, I don’t”. OFFER ME A DUMPLING, PLEASE.
“Oh, that’s a shame”.

He went back to inhaling his noodles.

When the bill came, it was for £35. My dish was £10, but he’d ordered £25 of food. If our orders had been the other way round, I’d have insisted on paying for what I’d ordered, given the inequity of the bill.

He looked at the bill.
“Let’s go halves. Your share’s £17.50”, he said.
Again, it seemed rude to say anything.
I put down a £20 note; my “share” plus a tip.

“I’ll put it on my card and take your £20”, he said.

We left the restaurant. Again, he let the door swing into my face on the way out; at least I was prepared and caught it that time.

Afterwards, I realised that he hadn’t left a tip. So, he’d stuck the £35 on his card, kept my £20 and effectively made a profit of £10.

He phoned the next week to ask me out again. I said no, thanks.

Risky Business

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Here’s Nick with a tale of internet dating:

“The online conversations went well, and we ended up arranging to meet for a drink.

Within 5 mins she said ‘So, I’ve told you already I’m a part-time escort’

… er, no! I think I’d have remembered that. Thanks, but bye.”

 

Thanks Nick!

 

Spilling the Beans

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Here’s Kate with another winning line from another disastrous date:

“‘So… I have a fetish, actually. But I’m not going to tell you what it is.’

(Of course, he did tell me what it was. He then proceeded to tell me how much fun his last girlfriend had found accommodating it.)”

Thanks Kate. I feel unclean now.

The Vanishing Woman

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Thanks Dave for emailing this story:

“I met a lady through a dating site; after exchanging emails and calls, we eventually met up.

I took her to a local casino with a fantastic restaurant. While the date was cordial, it was clear that we weren’t made for each other.

She devoured the three most expensive courses on the menu, then stated that she was going to the toilet, and would also be calling her babysitter.

As she left the table, she also asked me to order her a liqueur coffee.

But she didn’t return and I never saw her again.

There was no explanation; not a call, not a text. Nothing. I was knocked off of kilter and didn’t date again for about 6 months.”

Oh Dave. That’s awful. Doing a runner mid-date is cowardly at the best of times. When you’ve saddled the other person with the bill too, it’s inexcusable.

I need to stop giving my number to people

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I do some volunteer work at a centre. One day, I got chatting to a visitor, who said he wanted to ask me about joining the team of volunteers. The conversation seemed slightly strange; while his manner wasn’t flirty, he quickly moved onto my personal life and started asking if I had any kids, if I was married, whether I had a boyfriend.

He told me that he’d like to talk more about volunteering, and asked for my number. With some misgivings, I gave it to him. 

The next day, he left a long rambling message on my answerphone asking me to meet him on Tuesday at 8.30 outside Top Shop (I have absolutely no idea which Top Shop he meant). I took the coward’s way out and texted him back to say no thank you.

He sent me back a shirty response saying that I shouldn’t have given him my number in the first place. He had a point.

He continues to show up at the visitor’s centre, but we now studiously avoid each other.

Cashing In

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Here’s Kate with another one-liner from another great date:

“No, I’ll pay. I probably earn more than you do.”

Ah, the charmer.

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.