Ghosts of Dating Past

Couple in love, silhouette, hands, fingers

The world is definitely too small when you keep running into people that you have already dated and never really want to see again.

Yesterday I left work a little bit earlier than usual to head off to a uni class. As I was walking up the street I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. Standing out the front of the film school is the Neurotic Script Writer. I had been looking at my phone, so I look down again and aim to appear engrossed in it as I pass him so I can avoid an awkward conversation.

That plan didn’t work. When I get a few steps away from him, I hear his English accent say “Well, hello there <insert real name>”. Why does he not know the socially appropriate thing to do when you see someone that you dated and it ended poorly is to ignore them?!?!

I feign surprise to see him, and say “Hi, how are you going?” I actually can’t recall his name now, but I do notice that he has slimmed down quite a bit since we met earlier this year. He says he is doing well and has got a few things in his life sorted out (which I assume is to do with his ex as he had been separated for a while, but not finalised the separation in terms of house, cars, custody of their child etc) so he is in a good place.

I tell him that it is great that he is doing well these days, thinking that would put an end to our catch up conversation. But he seems in the mood to chat. He tells me that I’m looking well too (well who wouldn’t want to hear that) and then apologises for being a “right dick” when we met.

I tell him that “it’s all good, don’t worry about it” and I try to make my exit, but he jumps in and says that he is “more normal” these days and that he’d love to have a drink with me again to “prove it”.

Thank you, but no.

I use the trusty “thank you, but I’m actually seeing someone at the moment” excuse to politely decline his offer and head off.

Then tonight I’m out on a walk in my local neighbourhood whilst talking on the phone. I walk past a strip of restaurants and although distracted by conversation, I notice a nice black BMW parked on the road. A nice black BMW that is familiar to me. That I’ve been in. Yup, it was Damo’s. There is no one in the car, so I am hopeful I am in the clear…..until he steps out of a shop and almost smacks right into to me.

As I’m on the phone I can’t stop to chat (how sad), so I give him a little nod. He responds with a little sarcastic wave and smile and I motor past. Douche…

In other news, I met this guy on Tinder weeks ago now and we exchanged numbers with the intention of catching up for a coffee soon, but he became ill and has been sending the occasional text to keep me updated but we hadn’t ever spoken. He at first had a cold, then he thought it was the flu, then a virus, then pneumonia. I wasn’t too invested in him and kinda felt like a bit of a bitch that I wasn’t checking in with him, but I half wondered if he was for real or just playing me.

This afternoon he messages and says that he is finally starting to feel a bit better and asked if I wanted to chat. I thought I’d see if this guy was for real, or perhaps just a chick called Olga… It turns out he is real and by the sound of his frequent coughing fits, he has actually been really sick. What a bitch!

Update: I actually forgot about another ghost that made an appearance today. When I got home from work and was driving into the car park, the Detective was attempting to exit but taking his sweet ass time to do it. I didn’t see him and thought it was clear to drive in (its a bit of a blind spot) so then he had to wait for me. Good! So it things happen in three’s, I’m done with the ghosts for now!

My Very First Mile High Experience…with 12 guys

Love is in the Air inthe shape of a cloud

Last year in the lead up to Valentine’s Day I was busily dating after things with the Detective had started to veer off track, but hadn’t yet completely crashed and burned. I was on RSVP one day and saw them promoting a competition to be a part of the first ever in air speed dating experience.

It seemed unlikely that I would be dating anyone by Valentine’s Day, so I thought why not?! The day would involve a dozen guys and a dozen girls from RSVP flying to the Gold Coast for lunch with many speed dates included along the way. It sounded like it would be a fun day at the very least.

I applied, got selected, took the day off work and turned up at the airport bright and early to meet my potential suitors….and my competition. Unfortunately neither of these groups were very impressive. From memory, the age group was meant to be 25-40, but there was one guy wearing a very loud Hawaiian shirt who looked like he was mid 50’s… least.

The day started with 2 dates over breakfast at the Qantas club lounge (watched by a stack of media), then a date on the plane for the hour or so flight up to the Gold Coast, a date on the coach driving us to lunch, some mingling with champagne before lunch, another few dates at lunch, another on the bus back to the airport, then finally another on the flight home.

As it is nearing almost 2 years since this day, I can now only really remember the two dates that I had on the flights which were the longest dates, fortunately and unfortunately.

On the way up, I had the pleasure of the company of the only decent male prospect in the group. From early on in the day he was referred to as Simon Baker. For obvious reasons….

Processed with MoldivHe was funny, smart, tall, ambitious, cheeky, charismatic and one of those people that you meet and you just think ‘why the hell are you single?!?’.  I had noticed him on RSVP whilst perusing the site prior to the event, but I had assumed that he would be a total wanker as he had all these black and white professional photos on his profile in which he was ridiculously good looking.

Every girl in the group was busting a gut to talk to him and many joked that they thought he was a professional model or actor planted by RSVP to make the day more interesting. If he was, I thank you RSVP as otherwise the day would have been very dull!

On the flight home I had the displeasure of being allocated to date the old Hawaiian shirt dude. I was over the whole thing by this point, but he was in the mood to chat. I played along for about 15 minutes and then faked falling asleep to escape the conversation about his 19 year old daughter and his 2 ex-wives.

All in all, it wasn’t my best Valentine’s day, but also not the worst (maybe I’ll tell that story one day). Apparently it was the worst Valentine’s day for one of the journalists that covered the event though…

Article: Dates on a plane? Find the emergency exit…

The One With the Lazy Eye


This is an old story too. It’s also a great cautionary tale about the perils of alcohol and trusting your friends to help you select a man.

I think this was the weekend of my 22nd birthday. I was out at ‘the local’ with a group of friends and the drinks were flowing fast. In those days I loved being one of (if not THE) first on the dance floor (tragic I know), but once the floor started to fill I would scan the guys out there assessing if they:

1. Had moves like Jagger; and
2. Could make eye contact with me above the sea of jockeys short people.

I was always quite forthright in my approach back then so I found what I thought was a catch, lured him in and started dancing with him. When I caught sight of my friends they looked quite alarmed. Apparently their eyes were performing better than my vodka glasses as this dude was OLD!

So I cut him loose and moved on. The dancefloor was full of ugly shorties, but then in the distance I spotted a tall blonde. He had the moves and was wearing a bright blue shirt, so he certainly got my attention. I made some sexy eyes at him to beckon him over, but then decided now was not the time for subtlety. I reached out my arm whilst making eye contact, pointed at him and then gave him the ‘come hither’ finger.

He glided across the dancefloor like he was in a boy band video, wind machine and all. We start dancing and he is good! You know what they say about men that can dance right….

Being once bitten, twice shy already that evening, I wanted my friends to give me their opinion. Whilst dancing with him I asked them for a thumbs up or thumbs down behind his back. It was a resounding thumbs up!

The night progressed with more dancing and drinking and eventually the club closed. We were keen to kick on, so we all headed back to our friends place who lived nearby and a good time was had by all….

In the morning however things didn’t look so good. We were all in a world of pain and gathered in the lounge room to fill in the gaps from the night before. But something was very different now.

My new friend looked different than he did the night before. No longer boy band cool, he was looking at me whilst talking to me, but he was also looking the other way. Yes, there was a lazy eye situation going on. A bad one.

Confusion spread across the faces of all my friends, except Ms E who somehow did not notice!! How did we not see this the night before? Did it happen in his sleep? Did the alcohol correct his lazy eye? The world was not making sense.

He was also rather annoying. He was a bit overfamiliar with us for someone we had known for about 12 hrs and far too affectionate for my liking as I was not digging him at all.

I suggested he call a cab to get home, but he resisted. I wanted to go home and I couldn’t leave him there with my friends, so I decided to drive him home as I had left my car at my friends place the night before. I intended to just drop him at the kerb outside his house, but he would not get out of the car until I popped inside with him. Grrrr ok…

Once inside he shows me a photo by his bedside in the sharehouse he lived in with about 6 other guys. It’s of his 1yr old daughter to which he says “did I not tell you about her last night?”

Hmmm who the fuck knows really?!?

Then I tell him I really must he going. He asks for my phone number and I was tempted to give him my usual fake number where I swapped the last two digits around. That made it easy to remember so I could always say it confidently and it wasn’t obvious that I was faking. I pity the poor person with that number back then. They likely had a lot of messages for me….

But this dude was a bit cray-cray, so I gave him the real one. Lucky I did as he said he wanted to call it before I left to make sure he has the right number and could contact me. He also said that it was great we met on my birthday as we’d always remember our anniversary. Ooooooookaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy….

I think I burnt rubber as I drove away from his place. He was relentless in his chase after that calling multiple times a day, but he eventually gave up after a few weeks.

I wonder what ever happened to that poor lazy eye guy??

My Very First Tinder Date


I’ve revamped my site a little recently and looking over some old posts I just realised I never wrote about my very first Tinder date. It’s quite some time ago now though, so it’s stretching my memory a bit…

This guy was an American doing some kind of medical job that saw him in scrubs in surgeries a lot, but I can’t remember what he actually did. I know it wasn’t a surgeon that’s for sure as I recall on our second date him asking me if I thought $150K was a reasonable salary for a 35 yr old in Australia. Such tasteful dinner table conversation!

I can’t remember his name, but I remember him saying that everyone calls him ‘Bear’ because he is tall and big. He was about 6’5″ and quite a large man. He also had hideous dress sense. The day I met him, it was raining and cold and he was wearing jeans…..and man sandals. Very strange.

But the most interesting thing about our first date was the fact it was a breakfast. Our schedules didn’t quite line up over the weekend and he was about to fly to NZ for work for the week, so we caught up at breakfast as it was the only time free. I dare say it could have been the first Tinder breakfast date in history that didn’t follow a night of sex!

Breakfast was good. Conversation flowed, but he had been married since he was 22 and had only broken up with his wife when he was 34 before he moved to Australia. He spoke about her a lot, which I guess you have to expect since she was part of his life for so long, but at times I felt like I was getting to know her more than him!

At the end of breakfast he kissed me on the cheek and gave me a big hug and said he’d love to catch up when he returned. Whilst he was away he messaged me a lot and things were very flirty and fun. We planned to have dinner the following weekend and I was really looking forward to it.

On date night he comes to pick me up from home. He had pre-warned me that his car was a cheap shitter as when he bought it, he wasn’t sure if he’d be in Australia for long. He called me when he arrived (as I asked him to do) and I went out to meet him. Out the front I see a real shitter car and I walk up to the passenger side. As I get there, he is still sitting in the drivers seat with the engine running and he reaches over, pulls the handle from the inside and pushes the door open for me.

What a gentleman! I kinda got annoyed at that. If he wasn’t going to get out of the car, I think I would have preferred he didn’t make the lame effort to push the door open. When I get in, I was expecting to kiss him on the cheek hello, but he is busy looking at his phone. We head off to a local restaurant and when we get there parking is hard to come by. He seems really irritated by this and I’m getting a bad sign about the evening….

We eat at an italian restaurant and he orders these gross sardine things as entree (great, not sharing that with you) and then a pizza for dinner. I also order a pizza and when it arrives I suggest that he tries my pizza. He is keen and takes a slice of my pizza. I expect the offer to be reciprocated, but he remains silent. Oooo kkkkk…..

Dinner is painful. Conversation is dull. He is a whingey whiny American on this date versus the upbeat positive guy I met on Date 1.

I pay the bill as he paid on the breakfast date and I had had 3 glasses of wine to help get me through the night! He drops me home and the goodbye is brief. He drives off and I know I’ll never want to see him again.

I head inside and check the Tinder bench for the matches I had on reserve whilst I was distracted with this guy. Onwards and upwards!

How is Tinder a hook-up site when everyone looks like this….

Whenever I tell someone that I’m on Tinder, particularly those that are in long-term relationships and have not had the pleasure/displeasure of dating apps, they always look a little shocked  – kinda like I just told them I visit a prostitute every Sunday morning before church.

Everyone has the perception that Tinder is full of people hooking up left, right and centre. I would like to dispel this myth as it could not be possible when all the guys on Tinder look like this….

Boy band styling


Muscle shots (ahem….)


Who wears short shorts?
IMG_1730Open invitations to open pants parties

IMG_1744Men that love ‘Pussy’….and tatts

IMG_1739Men who love cats

IMG_1785Men who love cats….too much

IMG_1786(I feel that attempting ‘doggy style’ with a big cat is insulting?)

Men who are not house trained….

IMG_1833(Because men who leave their clothes all over the house are highly desired by women)

Men who Tinder in a toilet cubicle

IMG_1834Men with a little too much hair…

IMG_1837(It’s always too little, or too much!)

Sigh………………this is the pond I am swimming in!

Faces have been blurred and names removed to protect the innocent (and stupid).