Take Me Out

As some of you may know, I have recently been catapulted back into the dating game. It’s been a long time since I’ve been part of a courtship. Too long, actually.

I’ve been a member of a dating website in Dubai for almost a year now, but it had never proven to be fruitful. I found the guys to be either too sleazy or unable to communicate properly, and I certainly had no interest in meeting any of them. Then, out of the blue, a couple of decent guys popped up. Firstly, there was a very good looking guy in his forties, who I began exchanging messages with. He was refreshingly open and honest and his smile blew me away. Then there was the Dutch finance manager, who I engaged in some online conversation with. I found his brooding looks and well written messages very attractive. Both the guy in his forties, Mr. S.P., and the Dutch guy, Mr. P.C, asked me out. This is what happened:

My first date was with Mr. S.P. We’d arranged to meet up at a date-safe venue for dinner and a few drinks. Nothing fancy, but still quite nice. I was so nervous but very excited to meet Mr. S.P. We’d chatted online and over the phone a lot and seemed to get on well, so I was fairly certain conversation wouldn’t run dry.

As I waited outside the restaurant for Mr. S.P., I wondered if I'd recognise him and if I would still fancy him. The second I saw him, I instantly knew it was him. He looked exactly like he did in his photos. But, for some reason, I didn't feel that thunderbolt. We greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek, and Mr. S.P. complimented my outfit – a tight black and green belted dress, accompanied by killer black heels. As we walked into the restaurant, I told myself to give this a chance, that everything was exactly as I expected and that the butterflies would come eventually.

We sat down for dinner, and I instantly felt at ease in Mr. S.P's presence. He asked so many questions that, by the end of the evening, I felt he knew my whole life story and more. But, despite getting on so well, the zsa zsa zsu, as Carrie Bradshaw would call it, was still missing.

At the end of the evening, when Mr. S.P asked if I would want to see him again, I answered positively and told him that I would. Even if the the zsa zsa zsu never came, at least I had given it my best shot and it placed me firmly back on the dating scene. He dropped me home, despite living at the other end of town, and we parted with a double-cheek kiss. Ok, it hadn't been the most fantastic first date I had ever had, but Mr. S.P was a gentleman and very easy to get along with and I looked forward to seeing him again...

My second date was with Mr. P.C and, for some reason, I had higher hopes of there being more chemistry than there was with Mr.S.P. I'm not sure what made me think that, perhaps I had calmed the pre-date nerves having been on a date with Mr. S.P earlier in the week. Perhaps it was because Mr. P.C was closer in age. Whatever it was, I was really looking forward to meeting him.

We met in a bar which is local to both of us. It's fancy, without being pretentious, and has a great view. An ideal place for a first date. But, unfortunately, the place bears little or no significance when it comes to the success of a date. Whilst Mr. P.C and I were in an ideal setting, for the majority of the date, I felt like I was chatting to a fifteen year old boy who happened to have a responsible job.

Mr. P.C was the polar opposite of Mr. S.P. He was shy, not very forthcoming, barely asked me a single question, let me take the lead and had a lack of enthusiasm. Great, I was dating two extremes! And the chemistry I thought was going to make me melt was non-existent. Mr. P.C's lack of drive ambition and curiosity was a turn off for me. Up until nine months ago, he had been living with his parents in a small town in The Netherlands. Having not lived with my parents since I was 18, this was something I found a bit tragic. No matter how cool your mum and dad are.

As I jabbered away and asked Mr. P.C a number of questions, which were followed by single-syllable answers, my mind wondered back to Mr. S.P. I had really enjoyed his company a few days earlier, despite him being a little forward occasionally, but it was better than being sat across a table from someone who had very little zest for life.

I cut my date with Mr. P.C. short. When we parted ways, I gave him a peck on the cheek and thanked him for the pleasant evening. By the look on his face, I think he was expecting more of a snog than I peck on the cheek, but I just didn't fancy him enough and so I wandered off home.

After two dates, little chemistry and no snogging, I began to think that riding the proverbial horse wasn't as fun as I thought it might have been. Having only been in short relationships with friends or friends of friends, I'd forgotten what a chore going out on dates can be. However, being the trooper that I am, I decided I plough on through. Besides, I'd already committed to another date with Mr. S.P and didn't want to let him down. I'll let you know how that went in my next post...

Google Is Your Friend

Most women won’t admit it, but I’m pretty sure they all do it; it’s become an integral way of finding out everything you need to know. Yes, that’s right, the Internet Stalk. Come on, ladies, you know what I’m talking about. If you insist that you have no idea what I mean, let me enlighten you… Whenever I meet (or further my relationship with) a guy, I like to find out a little more about them. And there is no better way than to pull out my Mac and type his name into Google.

The results can vary from ordinary to downright shocking. I’ve come across everything from their Facebook pages to comments on newspaper articles, compromising photos to personal addresses and articles they’ve written to open social networking sites. There’s a plethora of information out there about every one of us, a large chunk of which we have no control over. This, ladies, is the perfect way to uncover as much information about a guy you’re seeing as possible, without him thinking you’re a freak/internet stalker/bunny boiler.

Quite often, these internet searches determine whether or not I want to continue seeing the man in question. Sometimes, I’ll check out their photos on Facebook and realise that they look nothing like I remember from that drunken night out at the weekend. Sometimes their marital statuses have popped up, showing something I really wasn’t expecting. And other times, I read something they’ve written and think they’re just like me. In man form.

With all that information out there, would it be a waste of resources not to check them out? Or in 2011, do we take it too far and not give the other person a chance to divulge the details to us themselves? We’re in an age of wanting to know anything and everything immediately, and if we don’t, we assume the other person is hiding something or lying. Although, is it too far-fetched to think, after two dates, he may not yet feel comfortable telling you he’s leaving his wife? Or that he thinks he might scare you off if he told you he was head of the online crochet discussion forum? So how long do we wait to hear this information from the horse’s mouth? Do you try to prompt him for this information by asking questions such as, “So, what’s your most serious relationship?” or “Did you ever have to do Home Economics at school? I used to love the knitting class”?

The other thing about chatting to a guy you’ve internet searched, is it’s difficult to keep in check and remember whether they told you a certain bit of information, or if you read it on their MySpace or Bebo account. It’s a cringe-worthy when you start asking him how The Killers concert was, when he hasn’t so much as even discussed his music tastes with you. I mean, how do you get out of that? Unless you take a long shot and say you could tell he was into them by his dress sense.

Sometimes there will be times when you find yourself relieved to have Internet searched a guy before you agreed to go on that second date. He could be, for example, a womaniser who has several posts on Gumtree looking for casual sex. Or perhaps he has an alter-ego and goes by the name of Steph, instead of Steve, on a Friday night. Or maybe it’s more sinister and Interpol have a warrant for his arrest for sexual harassment charges. Whatever it is, typing his name into Google will at least give you some sort of peace of mind.

Then there are the guys you Google and end up liking even more. I must have spent ages reading about one particular guy, and everything I read made me want to know more. Unfortunately, in reality, the guy isn’t who I hoped he’d be – rude, arrogant and self-righteous – traits you can’t really detect online. But, as much as I hate him, I find it hard to refrain from typing his name into Google every now and then. I’ve completely fallen for his online personality and regularly dream up steamy scenarios in my head. But, there comes a time when I have to face the fact that it’s no longer acceptable for a woman of my age to have make-believe friends. No matter how much they turn me on. I’m not saying that time is today, but soon…

So, whilst Google and Facebook stalking a guy can bring up all sorts of vital information about him, it also runs the risk of us overlooking his traits in real life. I think, as long as that’s kept in perspective and we’re not getting caught up with what’s being said in cyberspace and becoming obsessive, it’s safe to Internet stalk him. After all, he’s probably too stupid to find out what you’re up to…