Dating in London is never dull, even if you don’t get any dates, time to time you get the reality confirmation that being single isn’t actually so bad. Being single is always going on a date with destiny. You never know who, where or when falls into your lap and give you a minute thrill, or at least a promise of the possibility of potential happy ending. Unfortunately, being single in London has its down sides too. Sometimes, instead of being all-you-can-eat buffet, it turned into a fast food joint where you take a bite and spit it out without chewing. It has zero value and zero satisfaction. It’s official – dating in London is now box ticking exercise.
Dating scene in big city is not for sensitive souls. It’s brutal and unpredictable. It doesn’t follow any common sense or logic. In the absence of sound advice, sometimes I resort to the only thing I do best – generalisations: everyone is taken. Playing the game turned into full on battle, and I found myself right in the middle of it without any clue. What I grew to understand is that romance does not sustain itself. Unless you feed it with hope and idealism, it will slowly turn into cynicism and bitterness. It’s easy to swear of men and engage to yourself over a bottle of wine, but it takes optimism to shake off yet another dating disaster without effectively doubling in size. Lot’s and lot’s of it.
How do you stay positive? Do you play numbers game searching for the one, or the one next to him/her? Or do you patiently sit and wait hoping for the best? Neither is the right way. Women’s and Men’s magazines are bursting with pop-scientist and pseudo – intellectuals giving advice on how to find and sustain successful relationships, but that means fuck all if we have no self-respect, or confidence or integrity. People don’t approach love by cold calculations and detailed plan of seduction – if only in bad fiction and seduction seminars. Embracing my inner coach I would only say one thing – to have optimism is to have confidence about the future or the success of something. If going on dates raises your confidence about finding a right partner, then it’s the only way to go. Dating out of fear of ending up forever alone can dart you right into the arms of bullshit sellers, effectively have your heart broken and a casual STI. Not a great idea. And by dating I don’t mean going on dates with only one goal of getting laid.
Regardless, for majority people in London getting a date isn’t difficult, majority but me. I’m not online dating and I rarely go out, but even when I do, meeting a worthy candidate becomes a sales skills building exercise: appear too desperate and you’ll end up with a sausage roll, play hard to get – you could end up hungry. If you play the whole program right, you could end up with a phone number. I would jump the gun and mention the actually date, but this is another level of sales negotiations supported solely on a question – What’s in it for me? Last weekend I got to thinking. We play games with each other because it’s fun. If you actually forget your ticking time bomb and go out on a limb to a bar on Saturday night, you could actually have lot’s of fun. So last week I did just that (not that I actually apply “ticking time bomb” to myself) and met a guy who relentlessly tried to get my number for about an hour, must say he did intrigue me a little bit, but sometimes you get that gut feeling they are in it for all the wrong reasons. Despite long negotiations about nothing between me and him, my friend (with sort of my approval) gave the guy my number.
Cutting long story short, I never heard from him. I was dumb folded. First thought – why bother in a first place? Second thought was – I’ll write a blog about it. Whatever the reason for not getting in touch was, I derived an invaluable lesson (like you always must do) – count your losses and move on. Of course, I don’t exclude some preposterous circumstance like a stolen phone by a gang of savage raccoon, but realistically, in this scenario i’ll just adopt an idea he was married. From my personal experience, finding anything worthwhile on Saturday night in town has a chance 1/10 , finding yet another bullshit seller is guaranteed. I don’t believe in virtues, but whatever happened to sincerity and integrity? Am I in the wrong of being optimist that may be, just may be, one of these midnight rendez-vous would end up with at least a date?
Two words come to mind: Cruel Intentions. Seducers are rainbow sellers – victims are bullshit buyers, or may be they are just optimists who sometimes get a bad nut. Love them of hate them, can’t live without them. p.s. I did get a text message with an excuse he was busy – a week later which is as good as never.