Below is an e-mail I wrote before going on a blind date.  I enjoyed writing this more than I did the actual date, which I think says a lot.  I’ve changed my date’s name and a few other bits, but everything else is as it was.  To be fair, early on I had my reservations, not least because he began most texts with the word, “Ha.”  Seriously, I’m not joking.  It made no sense,  “Ha.  How are you this morning?”  It was like a random form of text Tourettes.  And he used phrases such as, “hunk of hubba hubba lovin.” Don’t worry, I informed ‘Sam’ that he should stop using such references to himself if he wanted to get much further in his love life.  Oh, and I think we’ll need a whole other post to explain the Dog the Bounty Hunter reference.

“Welcome ladies to this select group. You are my Chosen Ones. You are effectively my “Don’t forget to record Dog The Bounty Hunter” ones. (Ask Jenny to fill you in if you’ve not heard of this amazing strategy.)

I trust you all and there is safety in numbers. Apart from when you’re going on a blind date. Which I am. Tomorrow.

The basics :

You – Who are you meeting Raw? 
Me – Sam. 

You – Who is Sam? 
Me – He’s someone who messaged me via the dating site I’m on.  His mobile number is XXXXXXXXXXX. He owns his own business, the name of which I do not know yet. 

You – He sounds like a nice lad Raw 
Me – He does, and he seems very keen. Which makes me a little nervous.

You – Where are you meeting Sam? 
Me – I had thought we would meet at a bar. Perfect. These are the two I had in mind : (I feel awful omitting these, but it would give it away.  I know, I worry too much.)

XXX 

XXX

You – Ooo, they look like quite nice bars Raw. 
Me – Yes, I know, I’m definitely going to be sampling some of their cocktails, that is for sure. And if it’s going well, one has a secret corridor into a restaurant. If nothing else, I can sample them out to take you to whenever any of you are up here. I will have to pace myself as the last time I went into Manchester on a blind date, I ended up drinking rather a lot and would trip up and down a step every time I went to the loo and couldn’t stop laughing.

You – What time are you meeting him then? 
Me – 8pm. And get this, he’s driving in and was worried about getting lost when finding said bars. I know, really. Has he not heard of Google maps? So he suggested we meet outside Primark. Yes, really. I have now suggested or rather told him we’re meeting outside Next / Manchester Eye. I added the latter as it sounded mildly romantic. He jokingly asked if he should bring a red rose. I said I’ll be carrying a copy of the FT.

You – Do you have a cover story for the family?
Me – Yes. Fi, they think I’m round at your house. Hope you don’t mind, it was the only thing I could think of which might stop them ringing/texting during said date. This also means everyone not posting any public comments on my FB about this. Please and thank you. I know it’s ridiculous, I feel like it’s getting to the end of Lord of the Rings and we need to divert Sauron’s attention from the task at hand. 

You – Will you let us know you’re safely at home?
Me – Yes, I’ll send you all a FB msg or a text. Please keep in mind, it seems whenever I’m on a blind date my mobile reception is shit, and I end up standing on loos trying to pick up just one bar to get a message out but I will try and let you know if it’s a thumbs up or whether I’ve had to get so off my face you may just receive a ‘oh shig.’ 

Any other questions, send them my way. I think I’ve thought of everything I can. 

Deep breath.

Thank you ladies. Who knows, this one might actually work out. Some of you have heard, but for those who haven’t, I did my tarot cards for the week yesterday and they said a marriage proposal was literally on the cards. To be fair they also mentioned an important message from overseas too, but Sam is only coming from Burnley. 

Right, I’m off to practise my interested face.

Take care,

Raw x”

***************

After the date, I followed up with the messages below.

“Just to let you all know I’m home safe and sound. Wait until you hear what I did for entertainment the 30 minutes I was waiting for him. 

I promise to fill you all in tomorrow. I’m currently waiting for my heatpad to finish in the microwave and then get to bed – that old neck spasm injury flared up again, adding a certain something to the date when I said, ‘You’ll have to get on my right side. No, I really mean my right side.’  Lets just say I think the tarot cards may not be that accurate.

Thanks for being my safeguards. X”

***************

The final analysis …

“Here I am, heatpad in situ, neck still in spasm. 

It’s time to fill you in on what went on last night ….

I arrived exactly as promised, 8 on the dot outside Next. There’s nothing worse than waiting for someone you’re not 100% sure you’ll spot, especially since I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Instead, I decided to concentrate on looking into Next and seeing what it had to offer, cunningly with my back to any oncoming bloke who might have to tap my shoulder (a psychic once said that’s what would happen when I would meet The One.) 

After about 15 minutes I then became absorbed in the signs for their latest product recall. If you’ve bought their “Snake Wedges,” you need to take them back pronto. For what reason I don’t know, I couldn’t read that bit, but it looked serious. When it got to half past eight Sam was running on borrowed time. He rang to say he was just parking and would be on his way. Then he rang again saying “Where are you?” “I’m outside Next. Where we said we’d meet.” He turned up and asked how long I’d been waiting, when I said half an hour he said “Oh sorry, I thought you’d be late.” What gave him that idea I do not know. So we went to XXX and it was lovely, perfect spot if I do say so myself. I said I’d get the first, and ladies, what ended up to be the only round of the night. Yes, the only round. Luckily I went for a strawberry and lychee cocktail which lasted me most of the night. I say most, after I finished I tried to keep noisily bashing the left over ice around the glass to indicate I could do with a top up – got nothing. 

We chatted and he was quite funny. He’s a very northern bloke, quite gruff but amusing. He spent a fair amount of time making fun of me, especially with the neck spasm issue, so pretty normal really. However, he didn’t really listen to what I was saying. I’d mention I had an older sister, two minutes later he would say ‘how many brothers and sisters do you have?’ 

He did say that he felt I was very cultured and when we were discussing ideal jobs/lottery win scenarios, I said about writing a book and he said he had me pegged for a poet! (Please allow this exclamation mark) I admitted I used to write poetry when I was younger, but omitted to tell him I sent the finished results to the Royal Family. He’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie, I would obviously need a shot of adrenaline to be able to just consider the things he does. 

After he’d nursed his one frickin’ drink, he asked what time it was and to be fair we were both surprised it was 11. We agreed that it was time to head off and that was it.

So, on the whole, it was a better than average blind date I’ve been on. We did laugh which is good. However, I felt like I was making all the effort, there were danger signs of tumbleweed silence hovering and he did make me feel a bit like an old maiden because I’ve never been married or engaged or close to either of those things.  

I think the key thing is that he is 5’8 my arse. I was probably taller than him in my small heels and I’m 5’5. I also felt bigger than him, to the point where whilst chatting to him I did consider if he was a Ted Bundy wannabe, I would have actually been confident about turning round and saying “Come on and give it a go, because I think I have a good chance of taking you out.” 

***NEWS FLASH – He’s just texted and said “how do you feel last night went?” Shig. The Analysis. You’re a tight-fisted twig of a man who has a pretty good sense of humour? 

I’m off to the pharmacy to top up my painkiller levels. 

Onwards and upwards ladies.”