I am not good at reading things with men. Not in the sense of actual words. If you write, as a previous partner had to in letters cut from a newspaper, “I have feelings for you”, then I will get it. Otherwise, I’m not so sure.
I understand the basic rules of the game, of course. Meet on a dating site – flirting is the name of the game. Work with them – don’t put your hand on their dicks in meeetings. I always err on the side of caution. Even if I’m pretty sure someone is trying it on, I sound them out by asking in a way that lets them say that they’re only being friendly, because I assume they’re not flirting. Some take it the wrong way and assume I’m angry or accusing them of leching, which is not true. I just like clarity. The grey wilderness is not for me.
A guy caught my attention online. In terms of interests and chat, he wasn’t really my type, but his humour got me, and I found myself quite liking him. We did the dreaded number swap and started using WhatsApp.
The first video came with the caption “What I did on Friday”. I’m not that green. Pretty sure of what was coming (don’t pardon the pun), I didn’t open it. He followed up with the old “Oh no! It’s not what you think! Please look.” I caved. Opened it….
Turned out to be a video of him standing in the rain having to watch his kid play rugby, singing ‘Here Comes the Rain Again’ with added lyrics that included my name. It was quite funny, I felt bad for prejudging him.
The ‘What I Did on Saturday’ video turned out to be him painting his garden fence, and the ‘You’re the Best!’ song from Karate Kid with equally clever new lyrics. It made me properly belly laugh. I started to look forward to his messages.
The Sunday one was funny too, and, after finding out I was working in Glasgow on Monday, we agreed to meet for lunch. I will admit to not having the level of butterflies I usually get, but he was funny and I’m a total sucker for that.
Monday came, and I made my way to a pre-arranged venue. With a meet time of 1pm, my phone pinged five minutes before to let me know that he was stuck in the office but would definitely be there by quarter past. Not a problem. I ordered a coffee and waited.
About ten past, the phone pinged again. “What I Did on Monday”. I assumed it would be him huffing and puffing as he ran along the street to the cafe. Well – there was huffing and puffing. That’s for sure. There was also what was clearly his penis, in his hand, in a cubicle in the work toilets.
I don’t think I’ve downed a coffee faster in my life. It burned a bit. I didn’t care. Grabbed my bag and headed along the street…. straight into him. I didn’t know exactly where he worked, otherwise I’d have gone the other way.
He looked genuinely surprised that I was leaving, as though he’d clearly sent what was the mental starter and was now following up with a delicious main course. I’m not sure if it’s possible to cause lasers to shoot out of your eyes, but I did my best to incinerate the back of his skull. The best bit was that he looked genuinely confused, like maybe I was angry because I’d reached my data limit and not seen the ending?
“Hey,” he said. “Are you uptight?” Yes, I am uptight. Men sending videos of themselves wanking when I’m trying to drink a cappuccino puts me at the top of the uptight tree.
I get it. Online dating is weird. I have had guys offer to send stuff before. I’d never ask for it because I wouldn’t want to make folk feel bad, and I never send it because in my head I am 12 and assume paedos would use it. But really? I’ve had guys send stuff. It’s fine. Sending unsolicited bullshit is not okay.
I wish I could tell you that I eloquently explained to him the error of his ways. I wish I could tell you that I made him see the difficulties with his approach, and we parted as friends. In reality, my brain panicked, and I shouted ‘Work wanking is not okay!’ at him before I scuttled off to catch my train, throat still burning from hasty consumption of coffee. In hindsight I made myself sound like I worked for HMRC and was angry at him wasting working hours when he could be more productive.
Damn you, work wanker. Damn you to hell.
Things I Survived Today 