The reason why dating is sometimes terrifying is the risk of getting rejected. In reality – it isn’t a big deal, in your head – it’s a catastrophe. Being rejected by somebody you like sucks. Being rejected first before you rejected them is fatal – I promise your ego won’t let you be unless you get a revenge. While some people get luckier than others in their choice of mate, rest of us singles are left with a lingering question – as number of potential candidates decreasing with age, should I give them the benefit of the doubt?
With time, living in London can make you very cynical and if you don’t take certain precautions it can come back to bite you in the arse. Picky singletons in London are no longer settling for anything less than perfect. Problem is, you end up competing with the rest of the population and unless you are “a full package” you can be running a very unlucky streak. When someone asks me out on a date, I can’t help but question their motives. Sometimes I think my cautiousness can be verging on paranoia, however 9 out of 10 times, I’m right, don’t ask me how I know it. Years of bad luck and experience perhaps.
But sometimes, when you sense an adventure, you decide to give the benefit of the doubt to a person who stood you up, canceled 3 dates in a row, forgot to text you for a week and so on, just because you are so intrigued with the potential they might bring – is it a nice dinner or great sex, you are prepared to put up with any poop that comes along just to satisfy the curiosity. On the top of insatiable curiosity, there is also a small chance of letting the right person go. We are spoiled with choice, we begin to create impossible standards for people, forgetting we live in the world where everything is deceiving – starting with fake eyelashes ending with fake accent. We all run the risk of judging a person too quickly and losing a great opportunity.
So last week I went on a drink date with Prince Charming. The same fella I met in the bar and wrote a post on. When I thought it couldn’t get any more pathetic on my side, I found out this guy actually called himself – prince. After multiple attempts to find out what’s with the obsession with royal title, I gave up, allowing him to maintain his mysterious origins. Who knows, may be he was a prince of some country in never never land, because he never never replies on the same day. After 3 days of excruciating silence (nice touch), he texted me with a pretty standard excuse – telephone company blocked his number. Of course I didn’t believe it. What happened yet to be written.
When I thought he was blowing me off, he actually three day ruled me and just when I thought these things have become urban myths, here come the RULES. This is the one thing I didn’t miss about dating, but according to some old fashioned dating coaches we always have to maintain cat ‘n mouse chase, otherwise you’ll be eating dinner alone. What surprises me however, regardless of being an absolutely decent, legitimately attractive and intelligent human, there is one thing apparently I should be learning – dating rules. I taught myself code, I speak 3 languages and taking up on the 4th, I have a degree, I have read through pretty much every self development book available beginning from neuroscience essays (yes) ending with Napoleon Hill, I attended Tony Robbins gig, and I walked on fire. One thing I suck at is securing a date.
In times like this, when you are looking at very lonely summer, you have to resort to extraordinary measures (and horror of horrors) -dating education. After all, wisdom doesn’t com from knowing it all, it comes from acceptance of not knowing. Little did I know that by the tender age of 28, I will be contemplating dating advise from a self help book, however I didn’t know I will be writing one day either. Ignorance is a bliss up to the certain age, after that it’s all about information. Now where is that glass of Rosé?