The Newly Single
The newly single man is a dangerous subject for the young and foolish women, if you want to find your soulmate, life partner, husband to be (fill in as appropriate) then stay clear of the Newly Single man. The Newly Single is usually mourning the loss of someone to wake up with in the morning, someone to sit along side him at lunch with his parents and someone to introduce his friends to as his girlfriend - which is why he will do all three in the first week of meeting you. (Diagnosing fact no.1 - relationship on steroids.) He will shower you with what every women is programmed to fall for, declaring that you are everything his ex wasn't, he has never met anyone like you, he feels more for you in a week than he ever did over the 4 years he spent with his ex. (Diagnosing fact no.2 - continuous comparisons to his insignificant ex.) The other and most significant diagnosis of the Newly Single Man is his ability to completely disappear after approximately 1-3 weeks of dating him. You may be lucky enough to receive a basic text giving hint to his absence, you will not be lucky enough however to be given an explanation or even worse any of the things you happened to leave at his place. I have lost many a DVD to the disease.
James Green was such a man, I met him through a friend who had overheard him saying "I love that fit blonde behind the bar." Brownie points to James. When finally introduced he went on to tell me how he'd also seen me in my previous job and hadn't been able to take his eyes off me. Said by an older or attractively challenged man this would be cause for the purchase of a rape alarm. Said by the hench smiling blonde it was cause for a phone number and a date. Over the next week his continuous charm and confidence subtly hid his slightly obsessive behaviour, (as did flowers - known female weakness.) Being young and easily influenced I happily accompanied him to view flats and smiled hiding confusion when asked,
"do you like it though? as you'll be spending a lot of time here." (Date no. 2)
I sat politely through Sunday lunch with the family,
"When I said I'd take you to lunch I meant at my parent's house," (Date no. 3)
I flirted down the isles of Tesco on his arm gathering ingredients for macaroni cheese, which after a night of cuddling on the sofa, great sex and a cuppa in bed, he wrapped up for his packed lunch.
"We should cook extra next time at dinner so I can always take it to work." (Date no. 4)
He charmed my friends and even my mum who declared that her physic had told her there would be a wedding that year. Mum's can always be counted on to get excited over a week new relationship, especially those who see physics.
When becoming accustomed to this emotionally available, heart on his sleeve evolution of a man I began to relent and followed suit. This began with equally sweet texts and proceeded on to the making of a mix tape, after a comment he made on my wonderful music taste. Don't judge me people. We have all been there. In true Newly SIngle style, once feelings are reciprocated he must retreat into the cave in which he came from where mobile phones are unavailable.
Once diagnosed a datee of a Newly Single must watch carefully for the these warning signs. When the texts and calls have ceased many women like to play "guess the problem," the problem is not he's busy at work, or that his grandmother may have pneumonia. His lack of texts, calls and visits is simple, he doesn't want to see you. Sure we may bubble wrap it in "he's afraid," "he got so hurt in his last relationship," "I shouldn't have slept with him so soon," yada yada - either way, he doesn't want to talk as much, so please ladies, don't you talk more. Unfortunately I gained my rings of wisdom a while later, so I shamelessly did what a sobbing young girl would do, I told him I didn't want to see him anymore, (in text of course, us youngsters can't handle the face to face just yet.) I then proceeded to change my mind after getting no reaction, tried to call him at work and ended on a pitiful text of "please talk to me." Safe to say he never did again.
Words of wisdom - in moments of self doubt, neurosis and slight paranoia, delete his number. It's the only way to go.
The saddest state of affairs is that I will now live on in the minds of all who knew him as that girl who went a bit crazy. It's too late to play the "you were crazy first" card. I am still shamelessly waiting for my moment in that bit of the film, where you bump into a man who shamed you with a gorgeous bloke on your arm, looking inexcusably hot and overly important. Just for emphasis he may be packing up his bankrupt business or have gotten nice and plump. Call me sad but I'm not one for unfinished business.
Several months later I met a guy who knew of this James Green, who looked suitably surprised to find that I had dated him.
"You know he's been with a chick called Sophie for the past 4 years?"
"Yeah they broke up."
"No, they never broke up, and they're still together. Didn't you notice the tattoo of her name on his neck?"
"He told me he was getting that covered.."
Here is my lesson to you all, where one woman fails another one must succeed, (or escape in full possession of all her DVD collection.) When dating a Newly Single man take note of the following rules:
* Wait until that tattoo has been covered.
* Always book a restaurant yourself if told you're being taken to lunch. If you are driven to a residential area, calmly step out of the car.
* Never follow another man's pace when it comes to declaring feelings.
* Don't make a mix tape.
Friday, 25 June 2010
The 'B' Man
The 'B' Man
I should have known a man who's whole facebook 'wall' reads 'Dan is moving up on Zombie Farm!' and who's every profile picture is taken in the same club on the same night of each week, with the same blue v-neck jumper, wouldn't be one to get involved with. Women are made to be overly observant and more importantly overly judgemental for this very reason, a lesson to all women who ignore these first instincts in A) the hope to be more open minded, B) because the man in question has a pretty face or C) because you cant remember a time when changing the sheets was a thrice weekly occurrence. Do not undermine the force that is facebook, no you cannot fully judge a person based on an online profile, you can however see if your potential date is the type to have your friends calling with an overly dramatic emergency before the night is through.
I met Dan at the club, a none too remarkable request for my number along with his WKD, (never trust a man who drinks alcopops, if he can't handle a real drink I question his ability to handle much else.) However sucker to a pretty face as I may be he was granted my name and digits. The first date was equally unremarkable, he was socially awkward and none too interesting. Due to physical attraction I had accounted that he was worth a midnight visit or two but didn't succeed to take me on a date number two, meaning he was hot and we got on, but this wasn't a man I was going to roast marshmallows with in front of an open fire with my parents laughing at his charm and wit. The sex was reasonable, a lady can tell in the first kiss whether the sex will be hot or just better than no sex at all. Unfortunately the first kiss occurred in his bedroom so it was a little late to pull out on the terms that the sex would have been better elsewhere. His kiss was both too light and too hard, slightly too wet and with an unenthusiastic and slightly limp tongue, transfer these qualities onto every sexual act that was most likely to happen in the next hour and you've got just reasonable sex. Either way I came (with much help from myself) so the night wasn't a complete waste of time. The sex wasn't the problem however, after we'd finished he did what no casual fuck should do - try to spoon me. Yes I did just have the man inside me, but something like cuddling after sex is reserved for the roasting marshmallow's kind of guy - not this sweaty man pressed up against me whose last name I neither know nor care to learn. Over time I have learned to translate this kind of body language, expert that I am. A man who spoons you after casual sex is A) newly single and unfamiliar with the casual sex code, and/or B) lonely. An 'A' man will get confused and proceed to cook you breakfast, let you use his toothbrush and ask you to stay the night, tomorrow and the next day. A 'B' man will fight back tears while giving you every dull detail about his ex and how she changed her number and wont return his many letters. Both are slightly annoying turn outs and not quite worth the orgasm it came with, I had bagged myself a 'B' man. Sex can do strange things to a lonely man, such as confusing a fuck for intimacy and connection, and believing me to be interested in who lay in this bed before me, it is both distasteful and rather dull for myself to hear these details. To the lonely man: follow in women's footsteps and rent bridget jones with ben&jerry's as your companions, do not call me with the promise of an orgasm.
After many unreturned texts Dan did what every self respecting man would do: over look the fact his texts have been ignored and continue to make contact as if I have been replying all along, his messages becoming more graphic as time went on. (No the prospect of fucking you with a strap on does not excite me into texting you back. I'm no prude but I have no desire to fuck some strangers arse. Thank you. ) To all self respecting men, when this doesn't work, the next step is to turn up at the women's work place, drunk and emotional, this will get her to stop ignoring you and come fuck you again, honest.
The following week I had been watching a man lean drunkenly into a wet and sticky bar before realising who the lolling head belonged too. I had proceeded to continue serving in the hope his last WKD had been one too many. When he gained control of his neck I noticed for the first time that he smiles on one side of his face, a trait that becomes slightly creepy after too many units. He was wearing the same blue V-neck jumper. Catch. A chorus followed of "I text you," "Are you free tonight? You never text me back, come see me tonight," and "You never text me back, why don't you text me back anymore? Come see me." After a none too enthusiastic response from myself he proceeded to grab my wrists with what I hope was drink induced watery eyes where I contemplated calling for a bouncer and whether his hands were wet with alcohol or sweat. Eventually he let go and swaggered off into a sea of swaying drunken bodies, like a defeated broken heart at the end of a film, but with slightly less grace, and "my lovely lady lumps" as his sound track instead of Mariah Carey.
Lesson learned, don't ignore a questionable facebook profile.
I should have known a man who's whole facebook 'wall' reads 'Dan is moving up on Zombie Farm!' and who's every profile picture is taken in the same club on the same night of each week, with the same blue v-neck jumper, wouldn't be one to get involved with. Women are made to be overly observant and more importantly overly judgemental for this very reason, a lesson to all women who ignore these first instincts in A) the hope to be more open minded, B) because the man in question has a pretty face or C) because you cant remember a time when changing the sheets was a thrice weekly occurrence. Do not undermine the force that is facebook, no you cannot fully judge a person based on an online profile, you can however see if your potential date is the type to have your friends calling with an overly dramatic emergency before the night is through.
I met Dan at the club, a none too remarkable request for my number along with his WKD, (never trust a man who drinks alcopops, if he can't handle a real drink I question his ability to handle much else.) However sucker to a pretty face as I may be he was granted my name and digits. The first date was equally unremarkable, he was socially awkward and none too interesting. Due to physical attraction I had accounted that he was worth a midnight visit or two but didn't succeed to take me on a date number two, meaning he was hot and we got on, but this wasn't a man I was going to roast marshmallows with in front of an open fire with my parents laughing at his charm and wit. The sex was reasonable, a lady can tell in the first kiss whether the sex will be hot or just better than no sex at all. Unfortunately the first kiss occurred in his bedroom so it was a little late to pull out on the terms that the sex would have been better elsewhere. His kiss was both too light and too hard, slightly too wet and with an unenthusiastic and slightly limp tongue, transfer these qualities onto every sexual act that was most likely to happen in the next hour and you've got just reasonable sex. Either way I came (with much help from myself) so the night wasn't a complete waste of time. The sex wasn't the problem however, after we'd finished he did what no casual fuck should do - try to spoon me. Yes I did just have the man inside me, but something like cuddling after sex is reserved for the roasting marshmallow's kind of guy - not this sweaty man pressed up against me whose last name I neither know nor care to learn. Over time I have learned to translate this kind of body language, expert that I am. A man who spoons you after casual sex is A) newly single and unfamiliar with the casual sex code, and/or B) lonely. An 'A' man will get confused and proceed to cook you breakfast, let you use his toothbrush and ask you to stay the night, tomorrow and the next day. A 'B' man will fight back tears while giving you every dull detail about his ex and how she changed her number and wont return his many letters. Both are slightly annoying turn outs and not quite worth the orgasm it came with, I had bagged myself a 'B' man. Sex can do strange things to a lonely man, such as confusing a fuck for intimacy and connection, and believing me to be interested in who lay in this bed before me, it is both distasteful and rather dull for myself to hear these details. To the lonely man: follow in women's footsteps and rent bridget jones with ben&jerry's as your companions, do not call me with the promise of an orgasm.
After many unreturned texts Dan did what every self respecting man would do: over look the fact his texts have been ignored and continue to make contact as if I have been replying all along, his messages becoming more graphic as time went on. (No the prospect of fucking you with a strap on does not excite me into texting you back. I'm no prude but I have no desire to fuck some strangers arse. Thank you. ) To all self respecting men, when this doesn't work, the next step is to turn up at the women's work place, drunk and emotional, this will get her to stop ignoring you and come fuck you again, honest.
The following week I had been watching a man lean drunkenly into a wet and sticky bar before realising who the lolling head belonged too. I had proceeded to continue serving in the hope his last WKD had been one too many. When he gained control of his neck I noticed for the first time that he smiles on one side of his face, a trait that becomes slightly creepy after too many units. He was wearing the same blue V-neck jumper. Catch. A chorus followed of "I text you," "Are you free tonight? You never text me back, come see me tonight," and "You never text me back, why don't you text me back anymore? Come see me." After a none too enthusiastic response from myself he proceeded to grab my wrists with what I hope was drink induced watery eyes where I contemplated calling for a bouncer and whether his hands were wet with alcohol or sweat. Eventually he let go and swaggered off into a sea of swaying drunken bodies, like a defeated broken heart at the end of a film, but with slightly less grace, and "my lovely lady lumps" as his sound track instead of Mariah Carey.
Lesson learned, don't ignore a questionable facebook profile.
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