The Big Flip Flop

The replacements

Don’t you just love a good pair flip flops? Anyone who knows me knows how much I love them. Comfortable, reliable, unbreakable and most of all your go-to above all other footwear. Qualities, some might say, you’d like to find in the ideal partner.

As I continued my daily trawl through the wonders of the dating site, I kept these traits in the mists of my mind.

Logging back on, there were messages from guys who’d plucked up the courage to send one liners, something cheeky or a generic post that was meant to win me over. In my looking, I came across an attractive ‘Wants to date but nothing serious’ guy with likes that included surfing, snowboarding and travelling. He had dark hair, Mediterranean skin, nice eyes and a good bit of banter. We chatted for a couple of days, doing the pre-date get-to-know and working out whether we really wanted to meet. When he asked, it seemed like a good idea

After doing a bit of profile research, I decided that this guy seemed pretty laid back so decided to go for the jeans and flip flops approach. Apparently, there’s some sort of rule that you can never, under any circumstance, wear comfy FitFlops on a first date. As is the way with rules, I broke the mold and wore them anyway (unbeknownst to me that I would get a severe bollocking and the piss taken out of me forever more by supportive work colleagues).

So we meet up at a casual and quirky local bar which suited us both down to the ground and started to do the ‘getting to know each other’ bit. It was helped along by a pint or two of cider (apparently, rule number 2, be a girl and avoid the pints… Once again, I listened not) and me, for once, not talking a lot. That’s because he talked more than I did. Way more. I could feel my attention wandering right out of the bar door. It was constant. No questions from him to me. He talked, I drank and laughed in all the right places.

Then, on leaving the bar, tragedy struck. My trusty, comfortable and slightly clompy FitFlops FELL APART. I almost went arse over tit much to the surprise/delight of my date. As is my specialty, I laughed and joked at the matter and continued the night by walking around the village sandal-less. He even offered to carry them for me. Gent. After my calamity, the rest of the night is slightly shrouded by the ridiculous amount of cider consumed. There was a kiss, a few days of waiting for a second date invite and then came the grieving process… For my FitFlops.

The worst thing about that date was the fall of the flip flops… I was devastated. I was more upset about the footwear than the date…What does that tell you?

No matter, I got over flip flop grief gradually and like online dating, I got back online and managed to find a suitable replacement.

My feet


The Male Order

Anyone order a man?


So, as I mentioned in my last post, online dating was something beyond anything I’d previously thought.

The only way I can describe it… It’s like a catalogue.

The premise being you go through the options, discard what you don’t like, save for later what you do and browse what it has to offer you. The excitement is still there, the power of choosing is still there but this time it’s a bit more than choosing next Summer’s garden furniture. (After a while, the garden furniture becomes more appealing) This is what I wholly discovered when looking through the endless array of profiles.

Where do you start?

Like a catalogue, you flick through, see a couple of potentials, maybe make a mental note or make your choice and see what happens. The thing about dating sites that many people protest about but secretly love is the ability to ‘flick’ through and judge people on their looks. Admit it, how often do you make a pre-judgement about someone based on their looks before you get to know them? Exactly. There will be plenty of unsuitables but a limitation on the suitables. Sometimes the unsuitables are actually suitables and everything gets even more surprising.

This is a generic screen shot from a dating site just to prove how catalogue sites can be:

Popular dating site screen shot

I started to get slightly unsociable and ashamedly addicted to the judging process, spending spare minutes in my day judging gentlemen. But they must go through the same thing right?

Admittedly, there were several who liked the look of me that I didn’t like the look of but you keep powering through in hope of finding the ‘suitable’. Then came the scary moment when someone of my taste liked me back. You like the look of them and they like the look of you. Simple, right?

Pervy Hotel Guy aka ‘Thom’

This first encounter was called *Thom & through the medium of online conversation, he seemed like a proper gentleman. He was an engineer, living not too far away with a good sense of humour & distinctive features. He then asked if he could have my number to arrange a coffee-date (always exciting unless you’re me…not a coffee drinker). We chatted on WhatsApp for a few days (I have a theory about this app but I’ll talk about that later) and arranged to meet up.

We talked for a few hours and everything was going smoothly. When the date had come to its natural end, we had a quick kiss outside Starbucks (which prompted children to do the one thing that must be done… ‘Oooooo!’)

What followed was a series of ‘cock-shots’, inappropriate conversations about my underwear and an invitation to join him in a hotel for the night because he was too embarrassed to invite me to his home with his housemates. He appropriately became known as ‘Pervy Hotel Guy’.

This was the first  unsuccessful catalogue ‘purchase’… Should’ve stuck with the garden furniture.

*Names have been changed in order to not embarrass myself with some of the slightly odd choices I made along the way. Those who got on the wrong side of me might just be mentioned.

Online Dating: Business, Pleasure or Off-Putting?

According to various sources, 1 in 4 couples met online… That’s a pretty big statistic and if you think about it, where can you meet people nowadays? Everyone is so busy working, texting, tweeting, ‘twerking’, Facebooking, Snapchatting and generally being engrossed in their busy lives. We all do it, so where better to meet someone than on the other end of your computer in the never ending internet sphere?

This is the thought that went through my mind when being convinced to join a dating site. This and various other thoughts like:

  • What if all the men online are online for a reason?
  • What if they think the same about me? 
  • What if this is a completely cringeworthy waste of time? 
  • …Then again, what if it’s not?
  • What if I see someone I know online? 
  • What if they try to awkwardly flirt with me? 
  • …What if I quite like it? 

Plenty of ‘What if..’s’ to keep the world spinning.

So, I bit the bullet and started to write my profile. It all felt a bit business-like… Almost like I was writing a CV for my love life. I guess selling yourself for a job and selling yourself (metaphorically) for online dating is really similar. The overall aim is wanting someone to like you so much they want to meet you. But is it just like a job interview? Is dating a long interview process where discovering the right candidate takes time, effort and plenty of practice? In the end, is it just frustrating?

After various hours of pondering, the summary that was created looked like the below. What faced me was something I could never have imagined…

... That is the question
To date or not to date, that is the question…