So, I have seen many other bloggers use different forms of social media to bag a date or four, and I figured I’d have a go…
I’m unsure how Mr Twitter and I got following each other, but we did. He seemed very sweet, nice, polite, and the rest of those adjectives – and we sent the odd message. He said something along the lines of “we’ll have to discuss it over a drink” so I sent a DM asking where he lived – far away!
We left it at that, but on a trip to London I decided to pop over and see him, thinking he wasn’t too far away. Wrong, he was 2 hours away. But with the plans in motion, he offered me a spare bed and we’d arranged a date.
I know this all is seemingly dodgy, but just cos I met a fella on a social networking site and took a train 2 hours away from London (in total of 5.5 hours away from my home on train) I had no fears. We text on the train there, and he said how nervous he was… which was sweet! It made me less nervous tbh.
We had a hug and he carried my bag but I did not fancy him. There was no spark from the offset, but I was happy to be spending time in a new place with someone who over tweets and texts had become a friend. And you never know – that spark could grow! We went to his for a coffee then he drove to lunch, which was lovely. He nipped to the loo at the end and I paid the bill to save time, which he seemed to like.
We drove to a seaside town, and had a lovely walk and some friendly chats and it was all nice. But the one word I can use for his is “wet”. He was pretty nerdy, and lacklustre, and drippy. Kind of like a non-science genius dork in a movie. Think Fogall from Superbad… Then we went for dinner and have some lovely food and nice friendly chats and paid Dutch and it was nice. Then I went to sleep in the living room on the sofa bed. Which again was fine, but there was no bottom sheet and the blanket was a simple blanket and there was one pillow, all of which I didn’t realise until he’d headed off to bed and left me to sort it myself. Which was all slightly awkward but I put this down to his lack of confidence and experience in overnight lady guests. Bless. And this was the prefect summing up for him “bless”.
Then I woke up, had coffee, and went home. And that was that,
I chuckle because this was exactly how it was. Nice and friendly and nice and lovely and nice. And friendly.
There was a niggling feeling of having travelled all that way on the train, buying our lunch and splitting dinner, rather than it being 50/50. But I got the feeling he was skint all the time, so it wasn’t TOO terrible. We got on well as buddies, which was lovely, but the chemistry wasn’t there and he simply wasn’t the dashing charmer I would have liked. Still I believed it was a good date, nothing about it was particularly BAD, y’know?!
However, a few days later on Twitter someone asked him how the date went (I can only assume it was about me, I don’t think he would be a dynamic dater) and he said –
“Not great, but at least this one turned up!”
It wasn’t a roaring romantic relationshippy romp (am in alliteration mode it would seem) but all in all we got on well and were friends. That’s not great!? I was slightly offended but understood I’m not every-ones cup of tea! And I thought it kind of senseless to state that on the social networking site where we met…
I could have been petty, but I still felt like the date went nicely and so have no bad things to say about him other than I won’t be going on another date with him. But I like his friendship.
I’ve since dated another guy from Twitter, and that saga is ongoing (I think)… We shall see dear readers…. We shall see.
ultimateactoffeminism 