January is a long month; it’s generally rather miserable, the sparkle of Christmas becomes the inertia of deep winter , the weather is shit, our bellies are a fat reminder that we didn’t even stick to that New year’s resolution for a week and we are all waiting for payday. So, to brighten things up I decide to join a well-known dating site, New Year new me and all that. I joined a pay for one rather than tinder or the fish one thinking it may yield better quality bites.
In order to get my quite frankly dazzling personality over and to compensate for my non hot looks and rotund form, I wrote what I thought was a mildly witty profile. Originally I’d joked about my spectacular beard but, my friend in work who is a proper foxy lady and a successful flirt demanded I delete that bit. So, with great optimism despite many girlfriends telling me the online dating world is just full of pervs and weirdos , I boldly ignored them all and cracked on with liking, swiping and winking.
Here is my profile:
I published my profile and waited for my Aqua Man. I am not unrealistic expecting super fit lads to be liking me, I’m no oil painting. But, I kid you not, the first influx of likes were from old men who mostly looked like potatoes. A few potatoes sent me messages and I politely said I was looking for someone with similar interests to me who had their own teeth and didn’t look like a starchy vegetable but, thanks for the message. Then came the weirdos , the young guys with Mrs Robinson ideas, come on Stu from Cardiff I’ve got boots older than you. Finally the pervs showed up, the good old pervs . There are so many tales I could tell but, I just chose a few of the less rude ones to share with you .
Young Bloke from Devon: Somewhat younger than me at 32, I have no issue with that as long as the guy doesn’t so off we went. He had great hair, looked a happy, rather good looking and fun chap in his pictures. A surfer, he sent me a link to the boards he has. Promising. For a few days we exchanged messages , he was funny. I thought, this is a decent one then he starts asking me lots of questions about who I surf with . I told him about the girls that there’s a lot of us and he threw a few slightly pervy things in there. Nothing too bad. Then in the afternoon while I was at work ( if it was midnight on a Friday it would still be gross but, beers may have played a part) he decided to share his fantasy of coming surfing with me and the girls, what he’d do to everyone and how it would end, more specifically his happy ending. Lovely, blocked!
Wants me to have his children but no romantic relationship, a practical arrangement. I can live in a separate annex in his garden in Norway. He knows I have no kids on my profile but he asked me to reconsider, we would have a phone chat first then a chemistry date,
Errrm Randall, either my beard is bigger than I thought or you were drunk when you joined mate, try grinder
I think you want Bargain Booze mate
Tractor Boy: Tractor boy was the most normal exchange I had , polite, not pervy, chatty . Has a tractor ( A lifelong dream of mine is to either drive a tractor in mud or ride in a tractor fast in mud) , likes the outdoors . We messaged a bit and it was all polite and nice but, unfortunately not a glimmer of humour between us. Tractor boy was still the best of the bunch though and a nice fella.
In truth all this month has done is made me realise firstly, that my mates were right and online dating is just bonkers and second and most important , I actually don’t give a shit about meeting a bloke, I just want to surf, end of. I considered meeting Tractor Boy but, my first thought was ‘ what if its pumping that day’ this tells me what I already knew. Waves before Willies ain’t it! I’m trademarking that , I can see it now, mugs, t-shirts, changing robes, ‘ waves before willies’
“What I love the most about surfing is that it’s my first love. It’s the first thing I can remember being consumed by.”
I was talking about this very thing with some of the girls at the weekend and it’s not just me who feels like this. I’m not prepared to put time aside to add anything new to my life right now that’s going to pull me away from surfing or stop me taking a last minute trip for a wave or ditching a Saturday morning plan because the wind dropped. I understand it might sound ridiculous to some but, it’s what I already knew before I tried my month of online dating. In the words of the late, great Jack O’Neill, “The three most important things in life: surf, surf, surf.”
I have an incredible crew of women to surf with and a fantastic group of friends near by. I have realised what I really want is just some bloke mates. All my bloke mates are back in my old landlocked home 200 miles away as is the BFF, Long Legs. A few years back I did find a local bloke mate, we’ll call him Our Kid but, now he has a bird and we all know what happens to the girl mate yep I’ve been ditched wahhhhh. I miss having bloke mates.
If anyone would like to apply for the job of my bloke mate there is a vacancy
Applicants will receive: unwavering loyalty, smothering love ( you are a replacement child/puppy) you will receive a nickname, you’ll get extra fuss and attention if you are sick, you will be well fed. You will always have someone to do stuff with, answer your questions, give you an opinion and go on unplanned adventures with. You will be cheered up if you are sad and I’ll check in on you regularly to make sure you’re not dead. I asked Long Legs and Our Kid for their take on what the job of ‘my bloke mate’ involves and they both laughed at me and declined to comment. I don’t know why, apparently something along the lines of I’m a pain in the ass , I’ve no idea what they are talking about, I’m fabulous. Happy Valentines Day xx
If like me you are actively avoiding meeting a bloke for a romance because you can’t be arsed, read my post How to Be Single, a Mermaids Tail here