Hello again! The sun is finally shining in London, uplifting our moods, probably improving our social life and damaging the working one at the same time, and, at least for me, is giving me renewed energies. I therefore would like to ride this energy wave and catch up with my blog, that I haven’t been able to write for the past few months as I’ve been busy with the flat hunt, some new jobs and other personal issues.
Even in this very stressful period of my life, even when the time for dating had definitely decreased, and even when my search for my future husband has been replaced by the search for my future home, I’ve managed to collect a few dating (mis)adventures here and there. I see my friends’ point when they tell me that no matter how many things are already going on in my life, there is always room for more (and we leave it to a counsellor or specialist alike to understand what hides beneath this need).
So, if you are ready, it’s time for me to write down a few of the dates I had in these months in order to remember them when one day I’ll be old and without memory (though probably still the most gorgeous old lady in the retirement home, trying to match making the other residents). It’s time to make you feel good about your own love life, it’s time to make you go: “What? Really? Come on! Seriously?”, shake your head in disapproval, frown bewildered, laugh, or whatever reaction you might have.
Now, one of you pointed out some time ago that if I keep meeting men in clubs, I shouldn’t expect much quality from them, as if there was a hidden selection according to which good men go to… (tell me, pls! where do they go?)… libraries, museums, socialising events, but definitely they don’t go dancing. I have already expressed my views on this. First of all, I already do all those things. I go to museums, exhibitions, picnics, bbqs, farmers’ markets, bars, treeking events…. You name it, I do it. Secondly, in the same way that I am in a club, there might be many men who actually enjoy the dancing bit and are able to socialise without being wasted.
I go by the rule that you can meet men everywhere, and it’s simply down to my proverbial luck, (per gli italiani, diciamolo pure: il mio solito culo), that I never find “normal” people. To prove my point once more I would like to tell you about five different dates, one per post. Five men of different ages, nationalities, jobs, social status, met in five different places. In chronological order, I’d like to introduce you to:
Mr Acorn, an estate agent met while selling my flat;
Pina Colada, a guy met on the airplane while going to Lisbon;
The man with the Parrot, met outside Stratford tube station;
Mr Gentleman, met at the Bussey Building, a club in Peckham, south-east London;
The Lovebox surprise, met at the Lovebox music festival in London
Do you already have any preference by the name? Do you have an idea of which of these places might yield the best “quality guy”? Would you be able to say, right from the start, that I shouldn’t have expected anything good coming out of someone met in that place? I’m all ears. Entertain me, or enlighten me. I will entertain you, or enlighten you, in the coming days with a post regarding each one of these dates. For now, goodnight!