Adventures in dating: part 1.

Here it is- my highly anticipated first chronicle of my dating history.


Despite being very happy with my boyfriend, a part of me feels uneasy that I met someone now. I feel like I should have gone through more failed relationships to meet someone that I click with. Nothing in life has come easy for me. It doesn’t make sense. I should have kissed more frogs before I met this sassy and gassy* prince**. This might just be (maybe possibly definitely) one of my overthinking moments. Instead of being happy that I’ve made a genuine connection, I’m worried that I didn’t have enough bad experiences first.

I’m just putting this picture in to prove that I have a real life boyfriend.

But when I look back on my dating history, I have kissed a few frogs. To quote an ex of mine, “you have far too many experiences with erectile dysfunction than someone your age should have”.


I don’t have an exciting dating history. I don’t have stories where I was swept off my feet. What I do have is a lot of moments that made me laugh and cry- typically both at the same time. I hope you can laugh along with me.


With that tantalising introduction, let’s kick off part 1.



Many friends have tried to set me up with a single friend of theirs. Many friends have sighed and said they wished they had ONE single friend that they could set me up with while I smiled a tight smile and swirled my wine around my glass, wondering why they hadn’t topped me off yet. It is extremely frustrating as a single girl to go out for drinks or dinner with a couple who spend what could have been a lovely evening discussing your decaying ovaries. You know they’re thinking that you need a good root. You realise that your friends will most likely have sex while you stare up at the ceiling of their guest bedroom (friends don’t let friends drink and drive) and wonder if it’s wrong to masturbate in someone else’s house.

But WHY can’t you get a date, Chantelle? Is it because you talk about masturbation too much?


It wasn’t until last year that I actually went on a date with a friend’s friend. Don’t get me wrong, I had been set up before. I just never went on those dates. I cancelled one date in 2013 when I found out that he had his last named largely tattooed on both arms. He also liked to chase after 14 year old girls. I Facebook messaged him the week before our date that I was getting back together with an ex to try long distance. Which I still maintain is a great lie. Mr “if there’s grass on the pitch then it’s fair  game” wouldn’t want to get in the way of another guy and if it’s a long distance relationship then I didn’t need to beg a guy to be my fake boyfriend. The perfect lie. It worked!


I met this friend’s friend (let’s call him Andrew, if only because I used to have a crush on an Andrew), the one that I actually went on a date with, at my friend’s engagement party. Apparently our friends had been planning on introducing us for a while as we both enjoy things of a slightly nerdy nature. They had been working on this set up for several months. I had come over for a dinner which they had also invited Andrew too (I was unaware of this until the engagement party) so that we could meet. But Andrew had to go into work so that meeting never took place. During that dinner, I was talking about the Avengers: Age of Ultron trailer and mentioned the female Hulk. I couldn’t remember female Hulk’s name- for some reason I kept thinking Hulk-ra even though I knew that was wrong. It was stuck in my head. I think I just liked the sound of that. Hulk-ra. Hulk-ra. HULK-RA! My friend messaged Andrew to ask him the answer as Andrew would know. Andrew replied straight away with that the girl Hulk was called She-Hulk and some interesting tidbits about the character. We were able to finish our dinner in peace. Although we never forgot about dear old Hulk-ra (jk everybody did but me).


I didn’t give this much thought until I got a Facebook notification that Andrew had commented on a post in the engagement party Facebook event.

“Wait a second…isn’t that the single friend Andrew? Let’s have a look at his profile. Not hideous and definitely single. Let me add a witty comment and see how that goes”, I thought.


Andrew and I quickly had a back and forth on that post which culminated with my friend excitedly messaging me “YOU’RE FLIRTING WITH ANDREW!! THAT’S WHO I WAS GOING TO SET YOU UP WITH!!!”

I sent back a super cool and chill “Oh, that’s your single friend? I hadn’t realised”. And no one was ever the wiser, until now.

The banter of two sad and horny people.

When I arrived at the engagement party, I decided to try to be the opposite of what I have always been like at parties- shy, in the corner, stomach churning with anxiety because I only know the host and they’re too busy mingling to hang out with me and DAMMIT WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE SO MANY FRIENDS?!
I decided I would socialise. I would schmooze. I would fake confidence until I was confident. I would aim for a Kanye West ego so I would end up having a somewhat average self esteem. I was amazing. I would eat, drink and be merry. And as I was just coming off a 12 week weight loss challenge, I was going to make up for that lack of drinking.

I talked to people that I didn’t know. I talked to people that I did know but hadn’t seen in years. I actually enjoyed myself. I spied Andrew across the room and hastily ignored him because I hoped that our friends would introduce us.

After a while, it seemed like our friends were far too busy to introduce us- seriously, how dare they be so popular. And after several drinks, I’d grown bolder and didn’t need to fake the confidence too much. I glided over to him and asked if balls were optional tonight with a sly wink. He choked on his drink and said that I must be Chantelle. I nodded and stuck out my hand to say hello. We started talking and laughing. He saw that I was running low on drink and said he would get me one of the delicious cocktails that were being stored in sort of poncey hipstery mason jar things. Ever the true crime fan and savvy girl, I did worry about a guy that I didn’t know getting me a drink. I told myself to relax. Andrew returned with a cocktail that was far stronger than the ones I had previously poured myself. I wondered if he was trying to get me drunker. I politely sipped my drink until I had a chance to abandon it.


As we talked and laughed, our friend rushed over. She was pleased that we had introduced ourselves and I tried to pretend that I hadn’t circled him like a predatory shark.


At one point, we just sat down and chatted. I remember he laughed a loud, genuine laughs at one of my jokes and placed his hand on my thigh. His laughter filled me with a warmth that the alcohol couldn’t achieve.

Andrew got drunk. Very drunk. And very obnoxious. His funny ways soon became annoying. I quickly became aware that other party goers had noticed our and flirting. And although Andrew tried to rope me into a photo with him, I refused. I didn’t want people to later use that photo for blackmail or laughs, as I would (I’m a terrible person). Although we were caught chatting in the background of some photos. In this photo, I’m fairly sure Andrew has just vomited outside and is asking if we can go back to my place. As I care for my two disabled brothers at home, there was no chance I was going to take him home. And at that point in time, I’d never had sex on the first date (although that party doesn’t count as a date) or a one night stand.***

One of two asses in this photo.


As the party and Andrew’s comments of how I had “awoken the dragon”**** wound down, I exchanged numbers with him. I saved his number with the eggplant emoji because that emoji has only ever been used to represent an eggplant once in its entire existence.


But there was something that Andrew didn’t know about me.


To be continued…




























* He likes to say that I’m sassy and gassy. I don’t refute the sassy claims but his gassy claims won’t hold up in court.

** I don’t want to say he’s a prince because I think that sounds lame but I can’t think of anything else that will fit in that sentence. A knight? A jester?? A peasant???

***Didn’t I say that I hadn’t kissed many frogs? But there are other stories to go with having sex on the first date and my only one night stand. They’re stories for another time though.

**** In this case, dragon = penis.



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