The Single Dad's Guide to the Galaxy: Parenting in the real world

by Roger McEwan

  I was, of course, a single dad and this meant that I was a package deal for anyone interested in anything longer than a few dates. I didn’t see this as a negative as most men my age would have children. Besides, I was a much nicer person for being a dad, single dad, father and parent. I subsequently discovered that single dads are held in relatively high regard by single mums, who are acutely aware of the effort that goes into being a successful and happy single parent.

  The only issue I saw with my children was the need for secrecy. I intended my dating to be something they knew nothing about. They’d met Cathy but, her visits apart, we were the three musketeers and that was how it was going to stay. Unless of course Miss, Ms, but hopefully not Mrs, Absolutely Right turned up. One can, and should, live in hope.

  Before my first date in two decades I was, as you might imagine, nervous. I dressed in jeans and a casual shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled up to give what I hoped was the appearance of unfussed nonchalance. When I picked up Jennifer she looked stunning but casual and so, thankfully, we were on an even footing dress-sense wise. She’d also gained considerable height thanks to her high heels and was able to look me squarely in the eye.

  I’m sure many first dates don’t go well but, surprisingly, this one went exceedingly well and we ended up chatting into the night sitting under the stars. She seemed lovely and this dating lark was off to a promising start. It was, therefore, disappointing that our next, and as it turned out final, date turned out to be a bit of a nightmare, for me at least. I left her friend’s fortieth birthday party at a local bar, in hindsight a bad choice for a date, early and alone. I had drunk too much and had been forced to make small talk with the other males for what felt like the entire weekend before politely letting her know that I was ready to go though I was more than happy for her to stay. The night left me a little worse for wear and feeling unsociable.

  Despite the second date, Jennifer and I kept in touch but it was clear we weren’t right for each other. We had, for example, polar opposite views on the subject of sex before marriage, which was going to be a source of frustration for one of us.

  Those two dates got me back on the horse, figuratively, and interested in female company. The issue I now faced, an issue that I’m sure confronts most single people looking to date, was meeting new people. It’s a lot harder than you may think. The number of new individuals who entered my rather limited social circles was somewhere between zero and low. I mean, how often do available people actually wander into your orbit? Even if they do, you have to fancy them. It isn’t, or shouldn’t be, a case of anyone will do. Traditionally, to meet new people you need to either start mixing in new circles or become a bar-fly.

  With my consulting, study, writing and being a dad, I didn’t have the time or inclination to take up a new pastime such as bridge or dancing where the primary purpose was meeting new women. As for picking up women in bars – I should say more accurately trying to pick up women in bars – it’s a fun way to spend an evening … when you’re twenty. When you’re closer to fifty, much closer, it oozes of desperation. Then there’s the small question of who you may meet in a bar. If you sense you have spied Miss Could-Be-Right through the gloom and strobe lights at some ungodly hour, then it’s definitely time to go home. Alone.

  It’s a long time since I viewed a bar as a place where I would meet someone stimulating. Bars are colloquially referred to as ‘meat markets’ for good reasons. Bar-room etiquette also requires the confidence to approach a woman and start chatting. ‘Do you come here often?’ or ‘I haven’t seen you here before’ are standard lines and rather grim. As for anyone who uses lines like ‘Remember me? Oh, that’s right, I’ve only met you in my dreams’ – he deserves to be cleaning vomit off his shoes for a fortnight.

  Given the difficulty associated with that initial contact, it’s no wonder that successful males in bars resemble, in looks and personality, stereotypical real estate agents, sales reps or used car salesmen. Cocky, mouthy and used to handling rejection without batting an eyelid. In keeping with those industries it’s a numbers game in which persistence is rewarded.

  But I should be careful about becoming over-judgemental or moralistic as I realise it doesn’t take much alcohol to become one of those men I have just described (although I’d like to think I’m up a notch or two). But, as one of my favourite jokes suggests, the difference may be slight. We’d all like to believe that we’re part of the modern generation of males and are SNAGs (Sensitive New Age Guys) rather than CHOPs (Chauvinistic Homophobic Old Pricks).

  But what does it take to turn a SNAG into a CHOP? The answer: usually about three drinks.

  ONLINE

  Like them or hate them, bars are at least one of the few places where it’s possible to meet new people. This situation has been radically altered recently with the emergence of the internet and social media which in turn have led to an explosion of online dating sites. The reason these sites have been so successful is that we can engage without the stress and tension of doing it face-to-face. Internet dating has replaced the need to put on your finery and hang out in bars, which is probably not a bad thing.

  Until recently meeting online used to have negative connotations and was associated with gullible people being separated from their money or becoming unwitting drug mules. This has changed and online dating sites have become mainstream, a topic able to be discussed in polite conversation and on TV. The dating sites, at least the reputable ones, have become a good way of finding available people. Rather than embarking on a blind date, you get to read something close to a CV. Vitally, unless you are crazy and like taking absurd risks, you get to have a close inspection of at least one photo.

  Even with this change in acceptability, I’m sure most singles have stated loudly and without qualification: ‘You wouldn’t see me dead browsing one those depressing sites.’ I also used to feel they were somewhat desperate and dodgy but so too is hanging around in bars. So, after one too many drinks and too many quiet nights, I found myself trawling through various sites, purely for educational purposes.

  By my reading, sites fall into two categories. First are the sites looking to facilitate singles who want to be romantically connected, in other words sites I consider reputable. Second are those sites, such as Ashley Madison, well known for all the wrong reasons, that are interested in facilitating anyone looking for a physical connection. It’s a subtle difference but usually the site name gives it away. Or the pseudonyms and photos may leave little to the imagination. My research was both educational and an eye opener.

  The path I took with online dating was, I think, probably typical. I perused the sites for a short period but it wasn’t long before I took the next step and registered. The main reason for this is that you get access to more detailed information about the individuals on the site who may have caught your eye. More than this though, you have to develop your own profile that others can see unless, like me, you choose to keep it hidden. Registering seemed a harmless step and I hardly noticed that the site was drawing me in, spider-like, with my credit card looking like a fly.

  Registering makes you a part of the site and gives you access to more details but not to all the information or privileges you need to engage meaningfully with anyone. It’s a taste but you’re not allowed to touch. At this point I had to choose between retreating or spending some money – and I reckon the conversion rate of registering to paying would be high. Like swimming, once you’ve put your toe in the water you’re going to dive in eventually.

  I reached the point where I thought, what’s the worst that could possibly happen? Prising out my credit card, I came out of the dark and exposed myself, again figuratively, to what I imagined was a throng of enthusiastic, single woman.

  I joined a ‘wholesome’ site but even then I initially remained firmly in the shadows. I didn’t upload a photo and ignored winks and requests from people who wanted to see what I looked like.
My rationale was that I’d be recognised and it would get out and that would be embarrassing. It didn’t take me long before I realised that when profiles, like mine, don’t have a photo, you suspect the worst, a munter. It’s the bar-room equivalent of sitting with a paper bag on your head hoping someone takes an interest. I looked only at profiles with photos and I assumed that’s what most people did.

  Before coming out, so to speak, I first needed to select a decent and representative photo. You don’t need a degree in marketing to realise that the photo you select should show you in your best possible light. This is your chance to get people to do that double take. This was blindingly obvious – but it was regularly ignored if you look at the photos often selected.

  IMAGE 101

  I feel the need to branch out here and offer some legitimate tips. Do not select a photo where you are: staring blankly or frowning (uninspiring), heavily pixelated (suspect), holding alcohol (booze hag or hound), holding your child (feels awkward), smoking (it’s not the seventies) or looking like the photo has come from your police file. These are sure-fire ways to get people hurriedly clicking ‘next’. In addition, selfies (unless you manage to snap a great one and they’re rare), wearing sunglasses (they don’t make you look cool), old black-and-white photos (it’s still not the seventies) and strange clothes or fancy dress (eccentric and not in a good way) all cast doubts about your appearance and judgement. In this day and age, in which every device has a camera, if you haven’t got a recent nice, natural photo of yourself looking happy and at your best, get a friend or your children to snap fifty photos and pick a decent one. Give yourself a fighting chance.

  Also, when you write your brief bio, that’s the two sentences that people will read first. Make sure you have it proofread. I’m a long way from being a stickler when it comes to spelling and grammar, though thankfully I have a proofreader who isn’t, but it’s off-putting to think the attractive-looking person in the photo is illiterate. So if you can’t spot the problems in the following verbatim examples, please get someone else to check what you’ve written. I know my proofreader will twitch while reading them, unable to scar them with red pen or track changes.

  i am a people person, love meeting new people, i love cooking,gardening,wining and dining, going to the movies and shows. have two lovely daughters,a dog ,and two cats.

  Fill time mum, Who puts her kids first,They are my life. Im someone who always lends a helping hand to family, friends, and community.

  Oh my, this is hard SO il keep it brief and to the point. *Ive just come out of a 20+ yr relationship.

  Once you have chosen a decent photo, proofread your bio, paid your money and clicked ‘Show me to the world’, interest in you is likely to soar. Now the experience becomes addictive because you can see how many times you have been viewed and by whom. I found myself checking regularly. Interest, in the form of messages, increased and I started engaging in a number of online conversations, some with people in whom I was interested but many that I wasn’t.

  I quickly learned that the normal rules of etiquette don’t apply in the online dating world. Generally if someone walks up to you and says ‘Hello’ you reciprocate and start chatting. Online it seems the protocol is to simply ignore messages from people you aren’t interested in. The reason for this is that in the online world things can advance quickly and before you know it you’re being asked out for coffee. More offence is likely to be taken if you say ‘Sorry, you’re not my type’. It’s preferable, apparently, to electronically turn your back without a word.

  In among the messages and conversations there were people who sparked my interest. However, I learnt that before you let things progress any further, first do your homework. Most people who have profiles on online dating sites will likely also have a presence on other social media sites such as Facebook, Twitter or LinkedIn. Although you may not have his or her full name, and you’re mad, keen or both if you ask someone out before you know their real name, there’s usually enough information on their profile or in your conversations to feed into Google. It definitely pays to see what else is out there. At the very minimum you’ll likely discover more up-to-date photos! A number of times I was able to work out who I was chatting to and find out enough information that allowed me to work out whether I wanted to continue on or not.

  That brings up another vital point: you need to have a fair idea of what, and who, you’re looking for. On reflection one of my mistakes was to work on the basis of initial attraction and see what happened from there. It may sound shallow but it seemed the logical thing to do at the time. I looked to engage with those I found attractive based on the photos they’d submitted together with any others I could dig out. Then, if we got on conversationally online, I’d see what happened from there. This replicates a bar-room pick-up and misses the opportunity to be more discerning. If, for example, you like staying in and watching TV then engaging with someone who is a dedicated kick boxer and marathon runner will probably mean there’ll be compatibility issues.

  Ultimately, like me, you’ll take the big step and ask someone out or you’ll be asked out.

  This isn’t a guide to internet security, but never, never give out your contact details until you’re absolutely sure you want to have continued contact with this person. A few times I was given a mobile number immediately with a ‘Please text me’ and they were people I chose to ignore immediately. It didn’t feel right swapping that sort of information so early. If you text or email someone then they’ll have your mobile number or email address. While it’s easy enough today to block them, why make life painful and icky?

  As for an initial meeting location, a mutually agreed public meeting place such as a café is, I found, the easiest and safest option. The majority of people are genuine, but some are best avoided and I’d advise caution until you know enough to be sure.

  If you’re romantically inclined, like me, then you’ll have an idealistic concept of first dates – shy smiles, increased heart rate, furtive looks and a mental thumbs-up after you’ve given them the once-over. Let me assure you that unless you’re particularly lucky or have been particularly thorough, it will be nothing remotely like that.

  In hindsight I wish I was the sort of person who takes a quick look at the potential dating situation from a distance and walks away if it doesn’t look like an attractive proposition. But sadly – and maybe that should be thankfully as it is a rather mercenary approach – I’m not, and so I had some ordinary dates and the odd shocker. Most of the advice I’ve just given was learned the hard way. In fact, the first date was the worst and I’m surprised that it didn’t scare me off online dating for good. She looked nothing like her photo, although to be fair she had warned me in a text that she was ‘no oil painting’, when I met her in a questionable public bar. Some of her friends who were also there were highly conversationally challenged and everyone, except me, was drinking RTDs like water. I remained for as little time as was polite and got the hell out of there.

  What online dating teaches you is patience, scepticism and the ability to see what’s there and not what you want to see. The grainy photo may be hiding natural beauty but it’s usually grainy for a reason. I think that pessimists are better suited to online dating. They will, at the very least, never be disappointed. If, like me, you’re an optimist, you court disillusionment and disaster.

  THE DATES

  I’m not going to give you a blow-by-blow account of any of my dating experiences as that would make hard reading – and writing. I was actively on the dating scene and sites for about six months before I’d had enough. To give you an idea of what it was like I’ve summarised my experiences into two generic and fictitious dates: one with Lola and one with Charlotte.

  Lola and I exchanged fun and interesting messages for about a week before we decided to meet and see if there was a spark. We arranged to meet for coffee and I got to the café early in order to be relaxed and get
a quiet table. Spotting Lola turned out to be difficult as she didn’t resemble her photo. It was because she was hesitantly looking around the room that she stood out. I attracted her attention and we introduced ourselves by shaking hands. I did the chivalrous thing and bought coffees and, when I returned to the table, we hesitantly started making conversation.

  Lola was pleasant, and we got on well, though the conversation felt slightly strained and uncomfortable. I noticed during lulls that I was clenching my buttocks tightly, which was something I didn’t even know I did. We talked about work, our families and mostly about our experiences in the online dating world, which was one of the few things we seemed to have in common.

  As the date progressed it became clear that there wasn’t a spark and so we politely parted with a kiss on the cheek. There were assurances that we would meet up again but one, or both, knew that wasn’t going to happen. On reflection the date with Lola felt closer to being an employer in a job interview in which you make up your mind in the first two minutes and spend the rest of the time justifying your decision. In many respects, though, that’s what dating is all about: meeting, testing and, if it don’t fit, don’t force it.

  With Charlotte, on the other hand, there was chemistry and it seemed promising and exciting. The first meeting, again over coffee, was livelier and the conversation flowed with little effort and no buttock clenching. Time went unnoticed and the date finished with a hug and, interestingly, no mention of future dates. I sent a text within thirty minutes saying that I’d enjoyed our date and was keen to see more of her if she was interested. Charlotte also replied quickly and we started dating.