The Love Lottery

by Raj Dhaliwal

  Chances are, if I were to pack up and leave to go and live amongst the ‘fans’, then the popularity would dissipate and a new fan club would form in Birmingham.

  Granted, there are probably a few more categories that can be added, such as Stalker and Clingy, etc. but then that may be too many.

  11) The Casting Agent

  There are some who are not happy with the pictures that you have on your profile. If you only had the one, albeit fantastic, then it’s understandable. If you have at least five or six then it should suffice. Right? Wrong! Not in their eyes. It does not matter if they initiate contact with you or vice versa, you need to have a professional portfolio at the ready.

  I am talking a set of ten with just poses in monotone. Another set of ten photos on a recent holiday. Another set of ten doing an activity to prove you actually do what is stated in the profile. Yes you will be screwed if you had lied and mentioned flying helicopters!

  Even then it’s still not enough! They want the same picture but from numerous angles that even David Bailey would struggle with!

  12) Self-Proclaimed Miss Wonderful

  There is a song by The Proclaimers – I’m Gonna Be (500 miles) with a catchy chorus declaring a willingness to walk 500 miles.

  I think of this song whenever I encounter this type of women, but for these specimens, I don’t even want to walk 500 paces.

  I like many others love a sassy, vibrant, confident woman. Who doesn’t? Then sometimes you stumble across Miss Wonderful.

  I am all for loving and respecting one’s self and appreciating self-worth, then there are times when the fine line between confidence and arrogance becomes a huge blur of a line that was painted using a roller!

  Would it not be better to say “Others have described me as being… and also…”, or even be the one to bestow the praises upon her and have her blush upon receipt of many compliments? The humble and unaware they are, the more I want to compliment them and relish making them feel special and wanted, even if things do not work out romantically.

  Instead, it’s rather more a case of:

  “I am extremely funny, sexy with it, down to earth, grounded, beautiful, fun to be around, vibrant and exciting to be with, enrich lives of those around me and I happen to be very selective of those I let into my life and any man would be fortunate with me. I only go for manly guys with bulging biceps and who are over 6ft.”

  Ladies and gentlemen, I bullshit thee not. This is an actual profile of one of the girls who expressed an interest in me. I honestly could not believe what I was reading.

  I really had to supress the urge to respond back with:

  “Hi there, wow! There are three things I despise in life. The first being lists. The second being modesty. The final one being irony! If I were indeed to be the lucky one to even breathe the same air as you on a date, then surely I would be the one you from whom you would have received the compliments on your character? Anyhow, on this occasion, I am not seeing anyone and will not keep your profile on file for future reference in case I get desperate and change my mind. Good luck as you may need it!”

  After a journey of discovery, I have found that I am quite fond of clingy ladies. It’s nice being wanted. In fact the clingier the better! The only issue is, I find, they turn into Tyrants after a short while hence why the dating/relationships have not lasted long.

  I even had a stalker for a short while. Now, to be honest, initially, I was amused, bemused and astonished that someone would devote time and effort to stalk me. It was flattering even.

  Yes okay the calls at silly o’clock in the early hours of the morning were a tad inconvenient but hey, that’s why we have silent mode on mobile phones right? I was not sure whether to be relieved or offended when the stalking ceased after two and a half weeks. Two and a half weeks! I mean is that it?! Is that all I am worth?! Could she not be arsed to carry on until at least the end of the month?! Round it up to whole numbers?!

  This is next stage after having received a message and pre meeting up. You are being judged. Will you be nervous and sound like Joe Pasquale and get on her nerves, or try and adopt a form of well spoken twang and talk like Harry Enfield in Kevin and Perry Go Large!

  I always recall a Michael McIntyre sketch highlighting Northern folk who would have moved to London and suddenly their accent changes.

  From my own experiences, I too have encountered those fair maidens who would ask “How can I compare thee to a summer’s day?” like a Charlotte Bronte English Rose on the phone, and then upon meeting them, the fair maiden becomes a Waynetta Tavern Wench of Olde and asks “Yaum alright bab”!

  We digress. Or rather I do. Anyhow, let us say the telephone call with the fair maiden of choice is due this evening at six for example.

  The drive on the way home from work will be “What do I say to her? How shall I start the conversation other than using the word Hello? I know! I shall use Bongiorno! What if she is fluent in Italian? She likes to travel and she wants a funny guy and not just funny looking either! Shit!! I’m screwed again!”

  Granted we probably all don’t do that but sometimes we do come across that golden nugget of a profile and basically we don’t want to cock it up and look stupid and not even have her agree to a date before we even get started!

  The Telephone Interview

  Right, let’s say we are fast approaching six o’clock. What do we do? Do we call on the dot and give the possible impression we are desperate or very keen? Or do we call at half past six and then come across as too relaxed or even not bothered about keeping them waiting with our poor timekeeping?

  I might be accused of thinking too deep into these things but upon conversing with many a friend and colleague on the subject of dating and other attributes associated, it is apparent that the initial conversation will set the tone and direction of whatever may be going forwards.

  Okay, it’s ten past six! Ring Ring Ring baby! WTF?! Damn her phone is engaged! Ok, no problem, we shall call back in a few.

  It’s now a quarter past six. Okay, deep breaths! In… and now out… don’t give birth to anything! Okay Ring Ring Ring! Shit not again! It’s gone through to voicemail! Damn it. Shall I leave a voice message? Sod it. Let’s.

  You feel like saying:

  “Hi… it’s me. You know, the guy whom you asked to call you at six o’clock! You were engaged and now not answering. Buzz me back if you’re serious as I have plenty of other shit to do this evening. Bye!”

  But actually, what you end up saying, in a cool and calm manner, would put any diplomat to shame:

  “Hi… It’s me! Just calling to see how you’re doing. It looks like I have just missed you. No problemo. I hope all is okay and I shall catch up with you as and when. Take Care. Bye!”

  As soon as the phone is hung up, a number of thoughts will enter the mind.

  “Hopefully it’s not the flirt divert number and some dodgy DJ will not be playing it on the radio for all to hear and ridicule!”

  “Will she actually bother to answer back? What if she has no reception? Why wouldn’t she? She agreed to the phone call?”

  Then a stroke of pure genius! I shall send her a whatsapp! Brilliant! I basically then put the same sentence down into words on whatsapp and send. I then proceed to do the hokey cokey with whatsapp. I’m logged in. I’m logged out. In. Out. In. Out. Shake the phone about!

  “Whoah! She is online! She has received the message as there are now two ticks! They’re blue! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Halle Lujah! Eh? WTF?! She has logged out! God damn!”

  Wait a minute, wait a minute! The phone buzzes and then the Benny Hill ring tone starts to blare out! Louder and louder and building to a crescendo!

  One ring – nope, too early, too desperate!

  Two rings – nope, still too early!

  Three rings – not yet, steady on fella! Just one more!

  Four rings – quick! Pick up pick up you damn fool before it goes to voicemail

  Then I answer the phone cool, calm a
nd collected.

  “Bonjour! (I go French), comon ca’va ce soir? How are we? … What was I doing? … Oh nothing much. Just pottering around and lost track of time.” Yes people. Cool and calm bullshit at its best.

  The next part is nothing I can control. The profile may say one thing but she may be the same person or a complete loon. I always have to play it by ear on these and adlib accordingly.

  Fortunately, I would have been like a plastic mould machine and made a great impression and thus, as a result, managed to organise a date or meet up dependant on home and work life schedules.

  Types of Dates

  Happy Coincidence Dates

  Well… did I get really bad or great memorable dates from these sites? Of course I did. In fact I have lost count of how many. These encounters of the third kind have defined my approach to dating and helped educate me on myself and help ascertain what I would like and do not want from a relationship and partner. Luckily for me there was no exam as I would have failed abysmally.

  I discovered great restaurants, coffee houses and bars in other towns and cities as well as the ones that I knew existed in my home city but never really had a reason to go to them in the past. As a result, I now frequent them regularly with family and friends as well as with other dates.

  Routine Dates

  Don’t get me wrong, I am all for spontaneity. It’s a Gemini trait and I like to keep things fresh and interesting and can get bored of routine. Sometimes dates have been like that. Very routine.

  They can be a routine with the only difference being the lady. The time, venue, night of the week and even the bar staff have been the same on occasion. It has all been dependent on the choice of lady and by sheer coincidence the times are similar and the location just happens to be the latest place to be. Then on the flipside, if I happen to be at a particular place on a certain night of the week, it’s just easier to stick to the same and make for an easier compare and contrast session afterwards.

  I have been the recipient of the wry smile or cheeky grin from the barista on many an occasion. No words are spoken but line that could be spoken almost telepathically is the same:

  “Ah it’s you again! Good evening. Another lovely lady in tow I see. Wow! My word! You really are punching above your weight with this one! Well, good luck with this one and if not, I shall see you next week at the same time. Enjoy!”

  Routine means I have found it easier to try and impress the lady with the knowledge of the menu also. Normal conversation then tends to be:

  Me: I can really recommend the hot chocolate with cinnamon rolls here.

  Lady: Oh really? Why? Have you tried everything on the menu then?

  Me: Oh no, my first time here. I have heard great things about this place and thought it was worth checking out and hoped you would like it, what do you think so far?

  This gave me time to see what she would come out with and try and imagine what it would be like to kiss her.

  A good friend of mine once told me never imagine yourself married to the person you are meeting. That is asking for disaster. Too many preconceptions. Too much pressure and fault finding follows. It’s easier to just imagine kissing them and then checking out a favourite body part, subtly, and then taking it from there.

  Invite Yourself to Dinner Why Don’t You?

  The discovery of restaurants has been down to dates inviting themselves to dinner. Whether they had meant to or not I shall never know and I am past the point of trying it figure it all out.

  On many occasions I have had to meet up after work and even squeeze in a quick one, a date that is, between meeting up with friends later on that evening. Unless, a scene from Hollywood is being re-enacted, I never expect to go back to theirs for a ‘coffee’. Normally it’s an hour or so and then decide on the way home or to my next venue of choice if it’s marry, snog or avoid.

  If I am meeting up with a date and have plans later on then, like most, and as one would expect, I let them know that I have plans later on that evening so that they won’t get offended or rushed. Most first dates in my experience are only an hour or so anyhow.

  However, once in a while, a golden nugget of a date pops along. She doesn’t care about my plans for the evening! Oh no no no! She will be gone when she is done with the Q&A session and has had enough!

  To make things worse, she then orders food. Granted, six o’clock maybe a dinner time for some so naturally I will also indulge in a starter so as not to make her feel left out and to keep my strength up and provide sustenance if the date is hard going.

  The WTF moment is when she decides to order mains and then hands me the menu and looks expectantly at me and decides to judge me by my choice. I say WTF moment as she will have been aware that I am planning on meeting up with friends for a meal later on that evening.

  I would have even told her this before meeting up on the phone just so it was not a lastminute.com surprise!

  This is when I start to start to consume the foods with the dreaded ‘S’ word.

  Salads! I hate salads with a passion. I am a gym bunny and hit it hard when I train and have been told I have a good physique at 6ft3 and nearly 15 stone trying to get to a 10% body fat (just thought I would throw that in). I eat plenty of fruit and vegetables and am a carnivore but hate salads with a passion. The only time I will eat anything that resembles salad is when it happens to be in a Burger King Whopper on a cheat day. End of. Soggy, wet, green tasteless waste of time. Rant over.

  The icing on the cake is literally when she orders a cake or a pudding or a desert with icing! I’ve tried to eat the smallest and lightest dishes the restaurant will have on the menu just so that I am able to enjoy my meal and company later on that evening.

  I am too polite to embarrass the lady, especially in front of the waitress, by saying “Look, I cannot eat anything as I told you when organising this meet up that I have a meal with friends later on this evening.” Call me gutless or soppy but I feel it ruins the mood somewhat. Hence why I only ever have a starter or just try and avoid dates on the same day/evening as other social functions. Lesson learnt.

  What Days and Who Pays?

  Talking of food, the contentious point that should not come up but does generate passion in a conversation amongst friends is that of the bill and who should pick up the tab.

  Call me old fashioned, but…… I do believe in picking up the tab especially if I have asked that person out on a date. Coffee shop first date? Then most definitely the guy should pay. It’s only going to cost an afternoon of the guy’s time and realistically, the money involved is minimal unless the gentleman invited the lady to Afternoon Cream Tea at Claridges in London. Then he is screwed if he were to try to impress and go above his societal status and budget.

  On the outside he would say “Oh yes, you cannot beat an English Cream Tea. I love to pop in every week and have a cup of soothing, refreshing cha! With a slice of homemade cake!”

  On the inside it may be more a case of “WTF! How much? I could buy a kettle for the price of the tea alone! How on earth did they calculate the price of the cake?! Cost plus 1000%? I could buy a bakery and bake my own!”

  I have heard many friends and colleagues recount their stories of trying to impress the fairer sex and then feeling embarrassed to ask the lady to contribute due to underestimating the prices.

  In my experience, the first date has always been a coffee if on a weekend and a wine bar if on a weeknight. I have been advised by a couple of my close female friends never to encroach on a ladies evening. Best advice I have ever received on women.

  Therefore, the first dates that have been on a weekend always take place in an afternoon, hence a coffee shop. A nice relaxed atmosphere and no pressure for both parties to look superhot as they would initially try to if it were an evening date. The plus side is we get to see each other when we are most relaxed and looking casual. The normal everyday look.

  Just in case the first date happens to be a harrowing experience, then the lady in questio
n has the evening to recuperate with friends and can either wallow in a sea of despair or move on and be thankful.

  If the date happened to be a pleasant one, then at least the lady can decide whether to devote her next Friday or Saturday to me in case there is a second date. If a second date is on the cards and happens to be in an evening, then the opportunity is rife to impress and blow their minds with my lack of dress sense! Absolutely epic!

  I have even highlighted and emphasised to my dates that I do not wish to encroach upon their evening plans with family or friends. I then come across as considerate and accommodating which can only win brownie points.

  When the second date comes round, the venue depends on the how good a relationship I have built up with my date. If she is still distant then it can just be drinks, if she and I are more comfortable then it can be a meal beforehand or afterwards. Even then, I pick up the tab accordingly.

  I have had the experience of meeting up with a certain female from Telford at least five times and go for meals and then have her not offer to participate towards it.

  On these occasions, I have sat there taking what may seem an age, but entirely intentional, to retrieve my wallet from my pocket whilst smiling but watching the face of my date for any sign of movement.

  By movement, I mean watching the lips move and hearing her say the words, “Hey, look, why don’t we split the bill?” even if not with the conviction of sincerity.

  Realistically, I would not have accepted the offer to go Dutch but the thought and offer is always appreciated. Most guys I have spoken to about this have echoed the same thoughts.

  Instead, I watch the lack of eye contact being made and the iPhone being flipped out to check a message from a guy that she ignored texts from a month or so ago but now feels the need to respond and pretend she is busy. Then a frown appears on her face, she purses her lips and then shakes her head and makes a tut tut sound. It’s a way of saying, “Don’t disturb me, I am so stressed out right now, nothing is going right today!” without saying it.