Anyone who knows me knows I don’t have a particular ‘type’ of chap, except I DON’T go for the wide-boy types, the ones who describe themselves as “carayzeeee!” (shudders) no, not my type at all. I suppose I do quite like the clean-cut, decent, gentlemanly type fellas.
So I was a bit surprised when I was out at a rock-night reunion last Saturday night and my head got turned by a tattooed, bald man with piercings in his face! Our eyes met across the sea of black leather and long hair and we exchanged smiles, he had such a nice countenance.
As the evening continued we kept passing each other, we’d smile and eventually he made his move. Well, actually, he adopted primary school tactics and sent his mate over!
“Hi, my pal over there” nods towards bald, tattooed, pierced man “and he wants to know if you’ll go over and talk to him”.
Ah, how sweet? “Well I’m just talking to my friend who I haven’t seen for 20 years, I’ll be over soon when I’ve finished”. I continue talking to my friend.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, it’s the Tattooed Man.
He really has a nice face and as he leans in closer…and closer… I realise that he’s quite drunk when he almost falls onto me! Oh dear me, I’m not a big fan of acute drunkenness.
He wants to talk to me but I don’t want to talk to a drunk person who’s lurching all over the place and wobbling his beer-glass and spilling booze on my lovely pale green, chiffon dress.
I promise that I’ll talk to him another time when he’s sober but, he’s not convinced, to be honest, neither am I. Still he continues and asks for my number so we can arrange to meet and talk when he is indeed sober.
OK, remembering my theory about Trophy Numbers I refuse to give my number and instead, ask for his. He doesn’t believe that I’ll call, I’m not surprised, I didn’t believe it myself because the drunken swaying had put me off. After a while I’d convinced him I’d call him and we parted ways.
Sunday arrived and I reluctantly called him.
I felt reluctant because I’m still very much into my ‘Stop Looking, Start Living’ zone and because I said I would AND because I know how it feels when someone asks you for your number but, then never calls AND, because I take pride in keeping promises AND because I’m honest…I call him.
We arrange to meet a few days later for an early evening drink. My thinking was to meet him for the obligatory first date, to keep it to an hour due to ‘childcare’ and to extract myself from the whole thing with “thank you but, there was no spark for me”.
I’d arranged to pick him up (he doesn’t drive) and I almost drove right past him! He was waiting for me looking rather lovely in a pair of nice jeans, boots and a funky t-shirt, a change from the baggy black tee and scruffy combat shorts he wore to the rock night.
Instead of the anticipated 1 hour dutiful, small-talk, I finally dropped him off 3 hours later. Talk about judging a book by it’s (artistic) cover!
Now, these past few months of dating has given me a lot of food for thought and one thing I was sure about was needing to take my time getting to know my dates and not getting physical too soon. When was too soon though?
According to Mother Nature it takes three months for the hormone cocktail generated by a new love interest to settle down so, part of my new Dating Declaration is to make sure I don’t have Loose Knickers for 12 weeks!
I really like it, it sorts the wheat from the chaff, gives me time to ascertain whether I really like the guy or whether it’s just lust, is it ‘chemicals’ not ‘chemistry’, are we really a good match or is it just my DNA trying to make a baby so the human race doesn’t die out!
Tattooed Man is totally fine with the idea of waiting at least three months, he says I’m worth waiting for! Now, that is what I’m talking about…a decent, good and honourable man. I call this waiting time Project 3 Month (P3M).
It’s giving me time to really get to know him, his life, his dreams…his kids!
Which is good because I realise very quickly that his kids are hard work. They are rude, have tantrums and he gives in to them! I struggle with that. I also struggle with his lack of self-esteem.
Crikey, I have enough trouble myself in that department, I haven’t the energy to boost his as well as my own.
After a few more dates, despite him being a total top bloke who’s kind and thoughtful as well as creative, I realise we simply do not have mental rapport. We are in different universes when it comes to wavelength about lots of things and there is just not enough to sustain any more dates, let alone a full-blown, full-on relationship.
This is where I am am very glad to finally understand the Science of Sex.
A couple of years ago, the physical intimacy and need to feel validated would have driven me to continue dating and go along with a relationship until it ended (usually them), after about 3-5 months, leaving me heartbroken, hurting and confused.
Now, I get to retain my dignity and my sanity!
I like this P3M lark.