Tinder and Blind

A once single Tinder obsessed bad dater London girl living in Dubai, to a step-mum who bagged a boy in Dubai, now living in London

Month: April, 2014

The Camp Bristolian

Date of date: 25th February
Name: Tom
Source: Tinder

After chatting on Tinder for about a week, this guy seems like a total dreamboat. He’s good looking, quick with the banter and has an interesting job. He’s not lived in London for too long so asks me out for a drink and suggests I choose the venue. I tell him to meet me at a place called Green Carnation in Soho.

‘Erm, you do realise Green Carnation is a gay and lesbian bar?’ says one of my colleagues after I tell him what I’m doing that night. Well no, I didn’t. I mean I know that Soho is predominantly a gay area yes, but I thought this particular bar was open for all. Apparently not. But I’ve been before and was oblivious, so now I’m totally conscious that this guy has googled the place and either thinks a)I’m having him on and am going to stitch him up while he’s surrounded by a load of hungry men (which in hindsight, he would probably have enjoyed. More of why later), or b) he thinks I’m bi.

So I text him changing the venue, recommended by my colleague who clearly knows Soho better than me.
Meanwhile I get a huge amount of work in from a client, with a short turnaround. I do a quick calculation (I’m shit at maths) and figure I will be about 20 minutes late in meeting him- so I let him know.

I turn up an hour and a half late. Feeling very bad and apologising via text every half an hour until I meet him, he tells me he’s at Be At One in Piccadilly, he clearly didn’t trust my second venue after the first blunder- or he’s been there and drank his hours worth before a change of scenery.

By the time I arrive he’s already made friends with the bar staff and they clap when I sit down. I feel myself blush and apologise prefusely, offering to buy the (my) first drinks, but I see he already has two drinks in front of him so I assume one is for me, I thank him and take it. Turns out it’s happy hour and he had stocked up for himself- what am I like!..

I’m not a snob, but Be At One wouldn’t be my first choice when it comes to cocktails- it’s more of a student wetherspoons pre drink type place isn’t it, so I suggest Archer Street, a much nicer bar where the waitresses break out into song every now and then, plus the cocktails are amaze. So we go there after I down a watered down mojito.

Archer Street means I can also hear his voice and make conversation.. this is when it registers. He’s camp, very, very camp, camper than a row of tents. He sounds a cross between Joe Pasquale and Josie Gibson from Big Brother- you know, the big Bristolian lass who went out with Jon James and lost loads of weight, now looks amazing.
He’s from the Westcountry, as am I, but every time he talks I just take it as comedy value. I have an ex colleague called Joe (now a very successful actor in Broadchurch, little plug there for you Joe, as if you need it) and those who know Joe, knows he is the most Bristolian person in the world, now this date I would say, was more so. I literally wanted to bottle him up and open him whenever I wanted to laugh. Unfortunately, we were on a date and his intentions were far from being bottled up. I was asking him questions just so I could hear him talk.
I found out he was one son out of five sisters, so I asked the question. Yes I’d had a few Tom Collins’ by this point so I figured it was a perfectly normal question: ‘did your parents ever think that you’d have such a female influence that you’d be gay?’ his answer ‘my parents love a gay so they wouldn’t mind’… this makes me think he probably is gay and is on a date with me to test the waters, see if he can be swayed into liking girls. Well after being held waiting at a Be At One for 1.5 hours and being asked loads of questions so I could memorise his accent, probably would turn anyone gay.

So we leave. He tells me I’m his first Tinder date, and now imagine the most Bristolian, camp accent ever.. he says to me:
‘Well I think that went quite well, don’t you love?’
I lol. I say ‘yes, I had the best time’ which isn’t a lie. I had a lot of fun, but I wish he was my gay best straight mate. He then says:
‘Defo do this again maid, text me some dates you’re free’.

With that, we get on our separate tubes at Piccadilly and the odd text was exchanged a week or so after. There was no romance there but I would happily help him find his Mr Right.. if he does indeed swing that way.

The Bearded Vegan Model Pilot

Location: Muswell Hill, Carluccios

Source: Twitter/blind

(Names changed for anonymity)

Date: 26th March 2014

So the context in which I met this one is a long one so bear with me while I condense. Last year I started seeing this guy casually, it started turning into something more but I kept my guard up. At the beginning of this year I received a facebook message from his GIRLFRIEND- Laura. I had no idea, I told her everything because she deserved to know, she ditched him as did I and we have since become great friends. Weird from the outside but it works! Anyway I set her up with a colleague of mine, in return she said she thought I would get on well with one of her friends..the bearded vegan model pilot.

I researched (*cough* stalked) him a bit, found out he was quite a successful model and now training to be a pilot. I found him on Twitter and gave him a cheeky follow. A couple of weeks later I noticed he followed me back, and also on Instagram. Social media is the new face to face approach isn’t it. There are a few photos of myself and Laura, so he must’ve put two and two together.

Anyway, I’ve got nothing to lose, let’s message him, I thought. So I did- why not. Extremely creatively of me I put ‘Hello Aaron’, expecting nothing back I just went about my day.

The next morning I get a reply asking ‘how’s life?’. He catches me on a morning when life is consisting of early morning gym sessions and crash dieting in order to fit into a bridesmaid dress in 4 days. We message via twitter for a little while and eventually I give him my number.

A tube and bus journey later and we meet the next evening. I find out he’s a vegan (he can’t even eat Haribo). I’m open about my passion for steak and chocolate and he doesn’t judge- this is already going better than the Oxford Graduate.

Speaking of Oxford, Aaron has been training for the last year or so there to be a pilot. In fact, the last three dates I’ve had all have a link with Oxford, so I’m hoping they don’t all bump into eachother one day and get into a conversation about a clumsy Beckham obsessed brunette.

Anyway, the vegan thing is new. Since he’s been single he decided to be a bit wacky, grow a beard and just eat rabbit food. Totes fine with me, but knowing I’ll never get taken to Gaucho is a bit heart wrenching. I ask when he’s going to chop the beard off, when he gets his lapelles he’s going to jump in a pool and then have a shave. He’s got lovely eyes and usually I’m not a beard lover- I have a friend who loves beards and I thought the whole way through that she would bloody love him- anyway, the beard doesn’t actually put me off him which is a surprise to me.

We order wine after about 20 minutes of toing and froing- I was going to be good but that soon went out of the window and we ordered a bottle of white between us.

There was a lot to talk about, seeing as our mutual friend circumstances were out of the ordinary, so we talked about that a bit. He tells me he’s been growing a beard since November and has become quite attached to it- he puts argan oil in it to keep it soft (if that’s not an invitation for a feel then I don’t know what is).

It gets to the end of the date and I’m feeling a bit squiffy, conscious I have an early start, we leave and head to the bus stop. My bus is in the distance and it’s one of those ‘do I run for it because I don’t know how long the next one is going to be? or do I walk extra slow as to miss it and have more time for a goodbye?’ moments. I decide I will miss it anyway and no one wants to see me run after a couple of glasses of wine. Then it sits there a bit longer, so I decide to run for it. He runs with me and I jump on the bus just in time, in a mild sweat. We don’t have time for a proper goodbye so it’s one of those quick hugs and oh god, do I kiss you on the cheek or will that be awkward? So I do a quick hug and make it awkward by being indecisive on the kiss, and then he says ‘oh god, this is awkward’, before the bus doors close.


Since then we have exchanged the odd message, but he’s now based back home in the Midlands, so until he’s back in London/finishes his pilots training, I think it will be a matter of just keeping in touch as and when. The circumstances at present are a bit too complicated for anything more, which is just as well because I can carry on writing about subsequent dates.. (going on one tonight)..