Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water.
DUNNN NAA…… DUNNN NAA…. DUN NA DUN NA DUN NA DUN NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
(for those of you who don’t know I’m clearly bringing to life the jaws theme music through the medium of the written word. Obvi)
Have you ever had that thing when you get absolutely plastered and wake up the next day shaking and on the verge of vomming every 5 seconds and you think to yourself ‘I am never EVER drinking again’? But then a week or so later you find yourself merrily trotting off to the pub and exclaiming ‘umm large!’ incredulously at the barmaid who had the temerity to ask what size measure of piss wine you would like.
This is what doctors* have termed ‘alco-amnesia’. It doesn’t matter that you know the last time you drank enough piss wine to sink a small ferry you ended up lying on the floor of your work bathroom with your cheek pressed against the tiles murmuring ‘nice and cold’ to yourself. This memory is enough to stop you for a day, maybe three days tops. And then its Friday and oh look oops there’s a bucket of extremely yellow wine in your hand.
Don’t even get me started on the pale pink rose. When will I ever learn.
*me and my mates
That’s the kind of amnesia I have with online dating. Completely forgetting just how crap it is until I find myself hiding in the loo of a pub wondering if it’s possible to drown myself in a sink.
It is quite literally a vicious circle.
Sits on sofa feeling a bit bored – watches programme about dating/love – downloads tinder thinking ‘what’s the worst that can happen’ – starts talking to seemingly normal human – arranges date with seemingly normal human – starts to suspect this human may infact be secret soulmate hurrah – meets normal human – Realises ‘normal’ human is an absolute psycho – hides in loo and plans own death – renounces online dating to mates in pub – sits on sofa feeling a bit bored……
So there I was on a grey Thursday a few weeks back. Eating a meal for one off my lap, shouting ‘SHES MUGGING YOU OFF SCOTT’ at the TV (Love Island…anyone? Just me?), thumb straying to the app store. Oh look what happened there…oops. I appear to have downloaded tinder!
So just like those fresh faced, bathing suit clad teenagers hurling themselves into the sea with abandon, totally forgetting that a big nasty shark had snacked on their pals the summer before, I merrily arranged a date with a normal looking human and a week later I trotted merrily down to the pub to meet him.
I won’t recount the whole evening here. Maybe I will at a later date but suffice to say after a couple of hours of being treated to my dates special brand of humour, otherwise known as ‘being quite rude to someone you don’t know’ I made the obligatory emergency phone call to my friend H and skedaddled to meet him for a drink promising to tell him all the details. Belly laughs all round!
So I started to recount the oh so hilarious tale of how my date had looked me dead in the eyes, spread out the palm of his hand and said ‘finger to thumb – that’s how big I reckon my penis is. Erect’ despite not being asked to provide this information.
How he decided, ten minutes into the date, to quite aggressively rant about how much he hated dating and how all girls were shit and that he didn’t actually consider this to be a date despite the fact we met on a dating app, specifically designed for people to go on dates. Then was SHOCKED that I was a tiny bit offended.
How he quite openly eyed up other girls as they walked past, spent a lot of time snorting with laughter at his phone and then saying ‘it’s my mum, i’m just texting my mum!!’ and also weirdly tried to take a picture of me.
How he asked me if I give my male friends ‘special massages’ and then said ‘I’ve had a few of those before…on my cock.’ (I told you I’d found my prince)
And then…something strange happened.
In the middle of a pub.
In front of my darling friend H who is the nicest man alive but looked extremely scared of my emotional outburst – as well he might.
Because actually, all jokes aside, it’s not bloody alright is it? It’s not alright to ask someone for a drink then behave like a twat. It’s not alright to be sexually inappropriate with someone you’ve known for all of ten minutes. Or to make someone feel so uncomfortable in your company that they wish they were ANYWHERE ELSE. It’s certainly not alright to regale the girl you’ve taken out for a drink with tales of some other poor girl you shagged last weekend like you’re King Lad of Ladtown.
Whilst it may not be true of everyone’s online dating career, in my experience you have to endure at least ten dates where you wish you had never been born in order to get to the good one. And let me tell you life is just too short to stand outside a pub with a guy who, after a speech on why he was so done with dating, said the actual sentence: ‘I mean I think it’s nice of me to tell you this now. I could have just shagged you and then never texted you. But I’m NICE’
Prince Charming….is that you?! I dreamed this day would come!
Basically there are just so many better ways to spend our time than this. So here are four excellent things you could do with your weekend that would be way more worthwhile than destroying your soul over a bucket of cheap wine (aka going on a tinder date). Because i’m sure i’m not the only one who is experiencing extreme dating fatigue.
In the spirit of not being facetious I haven’t put ‘joke’ entries on here like ‘plucking out all your arm hair with a tiny pair of tweezers’ or ‘snogging Boris Johnson’. However, it’s also worth noting that I had to put the word joke in inverted commas as I would actually 100% prefer to do both those things that go on another tinder date.
1)Three words Hiphop. Bottomless. Brunch.
Yes you did hear me correctly. An entire day party consisting of your favourite cheesy hip hop plus a three course meal PLUS an hour of unlimited booze. Those are infact my two favourite words in the English language.
Plus, in a stroke of genius this event is on a Saturday, not a Sunday so you can drink your socks off without doing the obligatory glancing at your watch and wincing as the remaining dregs of your weekend tick quickly by with every sip. It’s all fun and games until the clock chimes 9.00pm and then you know you’re in for a very dark Monday.
It’s at 100 Wardour street in Soho and tickets are still available on y plan. I’ll see you there!
2)Drink Cider for £3 a pint
There is nothing unappealing about this unless you hate cider and I mean come on it’s basically alcoholic appletiser. What’s not to love?! Even if you are a bit of a beer snob (aka a huge knob) there’s no need to fear. At Ciderdog, a mini festival at The Miller in Southwark, there will be perries and ales available also. Plus a BBQ, giant connect 4, music and….sigh…a steel band.
WHY ALWAYS A SODDING STEEL BAND?
That aside – it sounds great and as iterated in the title, pints are a mere £3. AMAZING.
There is no purer happiness in this life than being shitfaced in a field with all your pals. Especially when this field contains bands you would sell body parts to get infront of, abundant alcohol and more falafel than you can shake a stick at.
In case you guys didn’t realise, you’ve missed this year’s mothership of festivals; Glastonbury 2016. I kind of had realised because I tried to get tickets but couldn’t get tickets because apparently its easier to get a ticket to Willy Wonka’s sodding chocolate factory than it is to get Glastonbury tickets hahaahaha (casual yet high pitched laugh). I mean I don’t care at all, by which I mean that I care so much that whilst drunk on pink wine I commented ‘bore off’ on a photo of Glastonbury that a friend of a friend who doesn’t know/like me very much posted. I think we can all agree i’m winning at life.
But seriously it should be illegal for people to still be posting tbt photos of Glastonbury. There should be an expiry date on that shit.
But hey don’t panic – Citadel festival is back and this year features Sigur Ros headling alongside Lianne La Havas and Faris Badwan.
Seeing as I’m not cool enough to be able to name a single song from any of the above I’ll be going merely to stuff my face with grub from Bubbledogs, Patty & Bun, Voodoo Rays and to embarrass myself in a game of disco dodgeball.
So now all you have to do is go to your nearest urban outfitters and buy something wanky/culturally offensive like a tie dye tshirt/flower garland/gold stick on tattoos/a bindi/two bindis/a fedora/an ironic barbour/ a ‘fun’ hat you’ll definitely never wear again and the obligatory glittery face paint designed to be worn only by girls sporting corn rows they had done at the braid bar in Selfridges.
God speed you born again hippie! I’ll see you there. I’ll be the one wearing a tshirt that says ‘FUCK YOU EAVIS I NEVER EVEN WANTED TO GO TO GLASTONBURY ANYWAY’
4)Summer Knees Up
For those of you thinking ‘all these options are based around booze’ then.sorry what blog did you think you were reading? Did you accidentally find your way here looking for brokers in London?
In the spirit of inclusiveness however I highly recommend hitting London Fields Summer Knees up. There’s literally nothing better than soaking up the atmosphere of one of my favourite places in London whilst also reliving your youth at a giant village fete. Splat a rat, hook a duck, bottle tombola. All the classics are there for you to enjoy. And as it’s a family fun day, there’s no need to get plastered. Equally no one will protest if you do.
So knock yourself out! Pack a picnic or, more realistically, buy a sandwich from tesco along with some weird dry falafels that inexplicably turn to dust when you try and dip them in hummus! It’s a glorious way to spend a British Summer day.*
*you should also bring a mac and a jumper. Don’t fight it just accept it.
These are just four great events going on this weekend however the truth is, London is full of incredible things to do all of the time. Which means we can firmly wave goodbye to warm drinks with bad weirdos outside pubs and say hello to getting merry with our mates all over the city!
So, for the time being, I’ve waved goodbye to dating apps. Sure maybe as winter rolls round, the nights draw in and inevitable layer of fat takes residence on my hips I might resort back to some sofa swiping. But until then there’s far too much fun to be had, with excellent people who would never make me cry in the middle of a pub. I think we all probably deserve a little bit more than that.