The Online Dating Virgin (Part 2)

Lucy has a date with Daniel, who does the same job as her.  Lucy likes Daniel because in his photos he looks like David Tennant.  Not that Lucy is shallow or anything. 

Daniel is divorced, and this is his first ever online date.  Lucy's determined to be so impressively witty and gorgeous that this will be not only Daniel's first internet date, but also his last.

She arrives at the bar moments before Daniel, and is still scanning the room to see if he's there when he walks in, wearing jeans and a pale blue shirt.

She does the instant, 2-second judge.  Looks like his photos?  Thankfully, yes.  Does he look like David Tennant?  Not so much, but still handsome.  Height?  As predicted, short, no more than an inch taller than her.  Does she fancy him?  Not on first sight, no.

They order cocktails and squeeze onto bar stools at a corner table.  Lucy's stool is wedged tightly between the table and the wall.  Good thing I'm not chubby, she thinks.  A fat girl'd never fit in here.

Daniel is chatty, and shoots questions at her like it's the quick fire round of a gameshow.  Lucy would like to ask one back, but doesn't seem to get the chance.  Still, at least there are no awkward silences.  Lucy always feels the need to fill silences and invariably ends up saying something stupid.

Daniel fills her in on his weekend.  He went to a stag do.

"I had to arrange it all," he tells her.  "I always seem to end up being the one in charge because I'm really organised."

Lucy, who alphabetises her DVDs and colour codes her knicker drawer, thinks she might be in love. In spite of his height.

"I haven't been on a hen do in ages because all my friends are already married," she tells him.  "Though I guess they'll be moving on to the divorces soon, and then we'll be on to round two."

Daniel looks uncomfortable.  Shit, she forgot he's divorced.

To lighten the mood, she tells him about the last hen party she went to.  "It was in someone's flat," she recounts.  "There was a stripper.  It was pretty awkward.  I've never seen a real, full-on stripper before."
"Did you see an erect penis?" Daniel asks.

Lucy is quite shocked that they are only 15 minutes into the date and Daniel has already said the word 'penis'.

She tells him the penis in question was not erect.  But it was pretty big and the stripper did swing it around and grind up against the bride.
Daniel looks concerned.  Lucy hopes he doesn't think she's into that sort of thing.

Now the subject has moved onto penises, it's hard to talk about anything else.

"Once, at a house party, a stranger touched my cock," he tells her.
"How does that happen?" Lucy queries.
"I was staying in the house with an ex-girlfriend. During the party we went back to our room to have sex. We were getting down to business when this random guy walked in and put his hand on my cock.  I think he wanted to join in."

Lucy wonders if this is Daniel's way of suggesting a threesome.  Just in case he's about to get any ideas, she tells him she's never had one and has no intention of trying.

"But I have been in the room when other people have been having sex," she adds.  Doesn't want Daniel to think she's a prude.

He looks intrigued.

"It was in a youth hostel in Colombia.  I was in a shared dorm and a couple started having sex in the middle of the night.  I had to listen to the whole thing."

Nice to get Colombia in, she thinks. Now he knows I'm adventurous and well-travelled.  But also not a pervert.

The date seems to be going well. They've had three cocktails.  Daniel suggests going to get some food, so they head for a Japanese place round the corner.

As they walk in, a waiter passes with some delicious-looking meat skewers.

"Yum," says Lucy.
Daniel drops a bombshell. "I'm a vegetarian," he confesses.
Lucy wants to cry.

They order boring vegetarian food, and wine.  Daniel offers to pay for the meal.
Too bloody right, thinks Lucy.  Forcing me to eat cardboard.
If we have a second date, she wonders, next time can I force him to eat meat?  Seems only fair.

Outside the restaurant, they say goodbye.  In spite of the vegetarian bombshell Daniel has been good company and Lucy has had a good time.
"Look, it's 11 pm," she points out. "That never happens."
"Why," he asks.  "What time do you normally stay out till?"
"I try to stay for 2 drinks out of politeness.  But a couple of times it's been so bad I've left after just one."

Lucy hopes Daniel realises how lucky he's been to meet her on his first ever online date.
"It's not going to get better than this for him," she thinks. "He's going to get a nasty shock when he carries on and finds out what Tinder girls are really like.
Lucy feels sad for Daniel, what with all the twattish behaviour he's got coming his way.

Daniel tells her he would like to see her again.  She wonders if he will try to kiss her.
But he doesn't.
Lucy is disappointed.   Just because she doesn't fancy him all that much doesn't mean a snog wouldn't have been nice.

(To be continued...?)

UPDATE: It wasn't.  Lucy didn't hear from Daniel for 10 days after the date, and eventually she messaged him.  They arranged to meet again, but the day before the second date Daniel cancelled, blaming work commitments. They haven't communicated since.  Lucy is fully expecting to bump into him again at some point through work... which could be awkward...

The Online Dating Virgin (Part 1)

Lucy has matched with Daniel.  Daniel is 45, has brown hair, and looks a bit like David Tennant.  Lucy is deliriously in love with David Tennant.  She even took up watching Doctor Who, and sat through dozens of ridiculous episodes, because of him.  (So she was bloody relieved when he quit.)

David Tennant is 6 feet tall.  Daniel doesn't give his height in his profile.  Lucy examines his photos to try to work out if that means he's short.  In general, tall guys always boast about their height, but short guys try to hide it for as long as possible, so Daniel is probably short.  This is disappointing. 

In one of the photos, Daniel is lying in the road.  Behind him is a bicycle.  Lucy tries to analyse the relative sizes of the bike and Daniel to try to work out roughly how tall he is.  How long is the bicycle?  How far away is it from Daniel?  What effect does the perspective have on their relative sizes in the photo?  Why is he lying in the road anyway?

She gives up.

It turns out Daniel works in the same industry as Lucy.  He even worked at the company she's currently based at until just a few weeks ago, and knows many of the people who still work there.

Lucy is delighted.  Maybe Daniel could be The One (despite probably being short).  They missed each other by a couple of weeks, but maybe fate just needed a little helping hand in the form of a dating app to bring them together.  She wonders if ballet flats would go with a wedding dress.

Then Lucy remembers that in 14 years, she has never met a decent, straight, single man working in her (female-dominated) industry.  All the men are either married, gay, or arseholes.  So if David is single, what is wrong with him?

The quickest way to find out, she reasons, is simply to ask him.

Ah. Divorced with kids.

Lucy is not sure about dating a man who already has kids.  On the one hand it means it's likely he won't want any more, which is fine by her.  Lucy enjoys sleep, freedom, travel and disposable income far too much to give it all up.  Especially not to become a slave to some tiny psychotic dictator.

But on the other hand a man who has kids will always have other priorities.  And dating a dad would mean she would have to pretend to like Other People's Children.

As everyone knows, Other People's Children are, without exception, little shits.  Lucy tries to avoid Other People's Children wherever possible.

Then she remembers Daniel looks like David Tennant, so she decides to give him a chance.

Lucy turns to the company intranet to see if Daniel is still listed there.  This is not stalking.  This is research.  Research is allowed - and in fact is even advisable.  A sensible girl will always check out her date online if she can, she reasons.  Just in case he turns out to be a convicted criminal.  Or a vegetarian.

There are five Daniels in the company phone directory.  Lucy googles all of them but nothing of interest comes up, except that one of them shares his name with a top rugby player.  Either that, or the top rugby player has quit sports and is now working in HR for Lucy's company.   She makes a mental note to check out the boys in HR next time she visits the second floor.

Lucy and Daniel agree to meet for cocktails after work.  He reveals that he has only recently joined the online dating world and this will be his first actual date.

Lucy is going to pop Daniel's online dating cherry.

This could be a problem, she thinks.  Online dating is like house hunting.  You need to experience a few rubbish ones, a few that have been mis-advertised, one or two that are falling-apart and smell weird, before you can appreciate the good ones.  If you see the perfect house on your first viewing, you won't recognise it.

Lucy is not a mouldy and cramped ex-council flat described by a cocky estate agent as 'a stylish and spacious city dwelling with opportunity for redevelopment'.  She's a gorgeous (and yet reasonably priced) Victorian conversion with high ceilings and outside space.  Daniel has hit the jackpot on his first roll of the dice.

But if he's never been ghosted, or stood up, or had to sit through one excruciating hour with someone weird or boring, how will he know that he's struck gold with Lucy?

Daniel has peaked too early.  All Lucy can do is hope that he's sensible enough to recognise a good thing when he sees it.

Lucy is determined to make this the best date ever and be Daniel's first - and last - internet date.  But if that fails, then at the very least she plans to set the bar high.  This date will be the gold standard for all that follow.  In 20 years time, Daniel will still remember the girl who popped his internet dating cherry and wish he hadn't let her go.

She selects just the right outfit - a casual dress that says "I'm feminine and have great legs but I haven't actually made all that much of an effort".  Flat shoes in case he's short.  She even plucks the stray hairs out of her chin and upper lip.  And heads out to meet him...

(To be find out what happened, click here)

Tall guys and tiny girls

Lucy's friend Geeta recently got married to Phil and has posted the wedding photos on Facebook.

Lucy met Geeta and Phil while travelling.  Lucy thought they were very nice individually, but finds them incredibly annoying as a couple because Geeta is about 5 feet tall and Phil is 6 foot 5. 

Lucy, who is 5 foot 9 (or 6 foot in heels), thinks finding a nice man is hard enough without all the available tall men being snapped up by the midget women.  She also feels sorry for all the vertically challenged single men, who can't find a nice petite girl because they've all been taken by the tall guys. 

Geeta should pick on someone her own size, she fumes.  Phil should be with me instead.  We'd look so much better in photographs.

Lucy looks at the wedding photos.  In one, the couple are kissing on the steps of the church.  But while Geeta is standing on the top step, Phil is on the bottom step.

They look ridiculous, she rages. There should be a law against this sort of thing. Maybe I should start a campaign.  

In another photo, the couple are holding hands and walking towards the camera while friends throw confetti.   Phil looks like a grown man while Geeta looks like a little girl.

They don't look like husband and wife, she seethes. They look like father and daughter.   It's kind of creepy.  I wonder if Phil has secret paedophile tendencies?

She decides she doesn't fancy him any more. 

Lucy finds it infuriating how lots of guys don't give their height in their online profiles.  How is a girl supposed to know if a man is going to be able to enfold her in his big strong arms if she doesn't know how tall he is?  Photos can be deceptive.   Some men only have headshots, or stand next to small things to make themselves look taller.  It's a minefield.

Lucy assumes the ones that don't give their stats are hiding a height deficiency, and swipes left automatically.  She's certain that any guy who is over 6 foot would know that's an advantage and would brag about it.   Though many who do say how tall they are seem quite pissed off about having to do so.  "6'2, because it seems to be important here." "6'1, if it matters," they grumble. 

Lucy is fairly certain they're only pretending to be annoyed. 

Lucy once went on a date with a man who didn't reveal his height and turned out to be about three inches shorter than her.  When she arrived he was perched on a bar stool and didn't get up.  He remained there for the whole date and it was only when he hopped down at the end to say goodbye that she realised he was so little.  The kiss goodbye was rather awkward.   Lucy felt like The Hulk.

Now she always asks.  But some guys seem to find the question offensive.  One told her he thought it was akin to asking a woman her dress size.  Lucy thinks that's unfair.  You can totally see if someone's overweight from photos.  

She wonders if she should post some pictures of herself standing next to wide things.