If you think you could be that springy girl, or even that hole, then online dating is definitely worth a shot – and if you approach it with the right attitude, you may even make some friends out of it. Slap a badge with your name and number written in bold, across your chest (which means you’re good for a boob-peek, gents).Sit on your own table, and await a herd of men to move from woman to woman for four minutes of chit-chat. Then, you’re encouraged to mark them as a ‘yes’, a ‘no’ or ‘friend’ (which means ‘yes, but no’).
Bottom line: the menfolk on dating sites appear to be 50% well-meaning guys that are hoping the love of their lives are going to spring, perfectly toned and full of wit, from the loins of their web browsers, and 50% who believe in the mantra “any hole’s a goal”. After skimreading an assortment of websites, I managed to work out the protocol; turn up at venue (more often than not, a bar in Hockley).
I got on well with a couple of guys; maybe a wine or two later, I would have been throwing my phone number at them. Since the dawn of nightclubs, people have been using sweaty, shouty rooms full of loud music to try out their best chat up lines and find, well, if not love, then a bit of the other at ten to two in the morning. So, myself and a friend headed to one of the biggest meat markets in town, full of girls dressed for an evening under a lamppost at Forest Road West and blokes who - despite working for some big company, or at least pretending to - appear to have only one brain cell to rub against their seldom-used dicks. We swayed to the music, and tried to look like we wanted to pull.
We felt that we were doing the right things and not looking out of place. I still don’t know exactly how you convey that, but I think looking around alluringly is a pretty good way to do it, although I’m pretty sure that I looked as if I was sucking a lemon.
Nothing says ‘Home with Mam with nothing to do’ more than someone messaging you at 10.57pm on Christmas Eve. Don’t get me wrong; there were some nice guys on the website.
My favourite message was sent one cold, wet Wednesday night just before Christmas: “do you WANT TO MEET? But for every one of them, there were at least two dickheads sending messages like; “So why can’t you date in the real world? ” By the time I was inching towards actually meeting someone in real life, I was bombarded with horror stories from friends (my favourite: the dinner date a friend went on that ended swiftly when the guy started to cry and he had to get her to call his mum).
Oh, and stop with the “I don’t know what to write” rubbish, too – tell me about yourself, and not what your best friend, who just happens to be a girl, says.