A suitor speaks: Advice from the trenches.

The background: Profile pic, subtitled: me today. no make up no underarm spray no shave no shower smelly dirty and ready to hit the camp gym.

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The email: hi just want to say your amazing your profile is unbelievable you could do with some more pics males are very visual and your extremely attractive dont hide it. you seem to have every thing a man could want physically (tall,good looks) and obviously mentally (talented, hi iQ, good caring nature, strong willed) I wish I fit in your idea of the perfect male partner. all I have is good soft kind heart and a body that can endure lots of hard work. I have helped previous partners set up their life invested time and money thinking one day my reward would be children. all I want in life in to be a father to have my baby fall asleep on me. your 38. I pray you meet your ideal male partner soon and dont wait for it takes years to build that concrete of love just use what you have been blessed with and enrich the world not just your lives have a beautiful little baby. :) sorry its deep. I just think as humans we put to much thought into getting the one or holding on to the wrong one to save us from being alone. just grab the most hottest guy you know who is kind and smart. and very simply seduce him. fall pregnant. a mothers life cycle begins. put yourself first. :)

Purple Frock: Gold. Well, a gal’s gotta take compliments I guess! I’ll start paying more attention to the hottest guys I know who are kind and smart. Watch out. In the meantime, thanks but…no thanks.

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First Reserve

You might be shocked to hear that I had a really lovely date recently. Don’t hold your breath though, nothing’s going to happen. For now at least, maybe ever. So far on Dating Stories, I’ve limited my stories to the ridiculous, the entertaining, and the even more ridiculous (they’ve all been true by the way). You haven’t heard about those who stomped all over my heart, and who came back for a second or third attempt to make sure there was no sign of life. If you watch the Simpsons, you might remember the episode whereby Bart pulls his heart and slam dunks it through a basketball hoop into the trash can waiting underneath. You’re not going to get those stories. 

So this lovely date was courtesy of my lovely sister’s lovely partner. (Take note, those who are secretly harbouring single male friends, it’s great to be introduced via a friend of a friend). Over the past year, Cupid had talked on and off about his buddy in Sydney, whom he was sure I would love. Finally, after a few drinks, I nudged. I was going to Sydney in a month’s time, time for a meeting! Tipsy enthusiasm was momentarily dampened when Cupid couldn’t remember the name of his bestest buddy / former flatmate with whom he had lived for a year. A search of his phone contacts was fruitless, but Facebook (and a photo to jog the grey matter) revealed the mystery man. Within a few minutes, Cupid had taken a photo of yours truly, (clarifying which one was me and not my sister), approved thirty seconds later by Mr. Nameless Bestie. Likewise, Mr. Nameless Bestie had sent a photo of himself in a conga line. The date was on.

So to set the scene…a meeting at Sydney Harbour, a long walk around the Opera House towards Woolloomooloo (hope I have enough oos). Before too long, it hit home that Mr Nameless Bestie was a great catch. Funny, fun, sharp, cute, lean, kind.. we giggled and talked, easily, about everything from travels in India, studying in one’s 30s, friendships, relationships, to where we had both found ourselves in life, in a niche whereby we could really contribute and make a difference, how good that felt, and the twists and turns in coming to that place. We walked and talked some more, a rainbow even appeared at a ridiculously opportune and sickeningly sweet moment, made in-jokes about being on the “other side” of the Harbour.

After a great couple of hours, I left to catch my plane (and to face a mild parental interrogation, who were on the plane with me). There was no guarantee… I don’t particularly want to move to Sydney, Mr. Nameless Bestie has a great life sorted living and surfing on Manly Beach. Regardless of what was to happen next, it was reassuring to know there were good guys out there, and to have a lovely date.  And how despite spending literally thousands of dollars on dating agencies, Mr. Cupid had it nailed. He knew me. He knew Mr. Nameless Bestie. It was potentially a great match.

Over the next few days, a few text messages went back and forth (including between Cupid and Mr Nameless Bestie, of course!) The attraction seemed mutual, we had both really enjoyed ourselves. Then (of course, there is a then!) Mr. Nameless Bestie told me that he had seen a girl for a couple of dates before meeting me, and now it looked hopeful with the Other Girl. Ouch. Even after being so philosophical about it all, I confess it was still a bit of an ouch. He told me he had loved the connection between us, it really as an issue of timing, and asked if he could contact me if it didn’t work out with the Other Girl.

Now that was a new place for me to be in.  It was a bit strange. I looked within. And had a couple of wines. Was I offended? Ego damaged?  Nope. We had met for only a couple of hours, things were very new, I was a plane ride away, she was on the ground. Perhaps they’d break up in a month, perhaps they’ll be life partners. Who’s to know. Can he call?  I’m not waiting by the phone with baited breath, but if our paths are meant to coincide, I’ll hear from him. Why the hell not. I’ll be First Reserve. 

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