Now I do not mean to boast and certainly do not wish to appear smug. However, as Valentine’s approached and I actually had a lady to share it with.
Not that we even had anything planned. I think, as I recall, her comment on Valentine’s was typically Yorkshire: ‘it’s a load of rubbish.’
Nonetheless, it matters. To me at least. Being a single 30 something guy in Whitby with an accent that, by its tone, most associate with an old Etonian (the truth is I grew up in a lesser known, fairly rough around the edges, borough of London) is the equivalent of castration. I may as well be castrated.
In fact, I can’t even believe I have found someone as it is.
Southern accents just aren’t attractive here. More accurately, they are repellent. I have literally been repelling women with my accent.
Well, that and singing in Rosie’s after too many on a Sunday. So, in a desperate pre-girlfriend attempt, I turned to internet dating.
My first experience was rather timid. I messaged a few girls, searched for local ‘hunnies’, then messaged a few more.
Needless to say I received very little feedback.
I did go on one date. I can’t even remember her name – it wasn’t instant attraction.
People say that you know when you meet ‘the one.’ If there was a polar opposite to this snippet of Worldly advice, that is how I felt about my encounter with the nameless girl. However I, being the ‘soft southerner’ that I am, took the unattractive, but very sweet girl out for drinks followed by more drinks and later dinner. Having spent a quarter of that month’s wages, we hugged and said our goodbyes, deleted one another off of Facebook and I put an end to my time on Tinder.
Frankly, if you are considering internet dating fellow gentlemen, prepare yourselves for a World of pain. I soon learnt the following: I’m too short, I’m too old, I’m too young, my body type ‘isn’t the sort of thing I usually go for’, I’m blonde, playing Xbox live with a headset is sometimes a problem, my music taste is dated and finally, whilst I say I’m into literature, apparently I’m not reading the right things. Since when was Jimmy Savile’s autobiography ‘not the right thing’?
So there you have it. If you saw me serving our five course gourmet menu at Raithwaite on Valentine’s weekend with a big smile on my face, it is because I do not have to face the pain of internet dating anymore.
That and my girlfriend is smoking hot.