Oasis of Crazy Fish

by Sasha Silver

  I did send a text about nine that evening. “You have been very cruel and you have hurt me. Hope that makes you feel good. You ruined my bank holiday.” The message was delivered he didn’t respond. I tried to call but his phone was switched off. I did wonder if he had blocked my phone so I called from work and got the same result.

  I sent one more text because I worried that something had happened to him. “If you’re okay just send me a blank text then I will delete your number. It’s just I am worrying now.” Still got no reply. I couldn’t believe somebody could be that cruel to somebody they claim to like so much.

  Three days later, I got a text. This guy had the nerve to beupset at the messages I’d sent him. Oh, really, you’re upset? Apparently, I should have known that it would be that something had happened to stop him from contacting me. His story was that his phone had dropped out of his pocket when getting out of his friend’s car and fell down a drain. The next day he left for Prague for a stag do, and I knew that part was true as he’d told me about that. Now, however, it wasshowdown time…do I believe him?

  I ignored him for a couple of days. But he kept trying, even asking me for my address, which for some reason I gave him. Within ten minutes he was on my door step wanting to take me for dinner. Actually, it was a good ice breaker. And believe me, he didn’t get a snog out of me, but I did feel a little bit more forgiving.

  We arranged to meet on the following Saturday when he got off work at four. Guess what happened, go on. I’m pretty sure that you can. He never arrived.

  A little footnote to this story…I got a Facebook friend request several months later. I didn’t respond.

  Max from Cheshire

  Max terrified me. He viewed my profile on the dating site. I don’t usually check “who viewed me” because these are the men who have looked and passed me by. For whatever reason, they rejected me, so why would I want to see that list? This particular day, however, I checked.

  In the list of men who have rejected me was a very attractive blonde guy with five photographs. He looked Dutch, or Swedish something like that. One of the photographs was him kneeling next to a light aircraft, another one was clearly him on a ski resort. The last one was him in a suit.

  I viewed his profile and it said he was a “genuine guy seeking a lovely lady for life.” He was 5ft 11” and had no children. His profile said:

  Are you independent, open minded, spontaneous, tactile, and romantic? If so you may be exactly what I have been looking for. I am caring, honest, easy going, intelligent, driven and grounded with a good sense of humor. I’m also extremely tactile and very romantic. I know what I want … my soul mate beside me on my journey

  I like going to the gym and keeping in shape and swimming. Alsocity breaks and sailing holidays in the sun.

  I like nothing better than to cook and have a romantic candle lit dinner (low fat of course) with a good bottle of wine.

  I crave an intellectual and physical relationship with that special person.

  What a bloody shame that he passed me by. Then, that little devil in me thought, Right even if I am setting myself up for a fall I am going to message him. So, I sent him a message.

  “You no likey?”

  He replied almost immediately saying, “Yes, I likey.” The conversation went from there. Turns out he had seen my photo come up on his screen saying I was online. He wanted to have a quick look at that moment and would have a better look later when he had more time.

  Within a few days there was obviously some sort of connection there and we swapped mobile numbers and started messaging. He was a perfect texter…my perfect texter. He said the most amazing things.

  “I hope you’re my one”

  “I hope that I fall for you”

  “I do think I am going to fall for you”

  “Wouldn’t it be amazing if we fell for each other?”

  Max was a little bit dirty mouthed too. Quite explicit, actually. (I think I have played a part in that). The one thing is though, with his dirty texts, he appears very normal sexually. All of this combined started to worry me.

  Why am I worried? Well first, guys who look like him do not usually text me the way he does. Second, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a new hunting style. Of course, any lady is going to love hearing those words, will fall for that charm and sleep with him, wouldn’t they? You see, men say these romantic words flippantly I think. They don’t realize that women believe them. The words they use can have a big impact on women. Or maybe men do know that and they are cruel enough to use it because they want the end result? This is why the dating/mating game is so difficult.

  So, I was a little terrified emotionally because I wanted to believe everything he had said to me but I knew I couldn’t.

  We decided to meet, and I was not disappointed when he showed up. He was gorgeous. And I certainly knew that I fancied him. In all honesty, I was beginning to think that maybe the reason I didn’t fancy any of these guys was because I was gay.

  It was a lovely evening. We held hands and talked about all sorts. It was eleven-thirty when we left the Trafford Centre (he wasn’t put off at all about meeting me there, which was another plus for him). Before we parted, we arranged to meet again at the Trafford Centre exactly a week later.

  It was the second date where I think it went wrong.

  As soon as he saw me he said, “Oh, your hair is down?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Have you been on the sunbed? Your face seems tanned.”

  “Is it? I have no idea why because it’s a no to the question.”

  He let that go and quickly said, “Let’s go for a coffee. And remember, it’s your turn to pay.”

  My hackles went up, I did remember and I didn’t need him to remind me. I thought this a bit rude actually, but we walked to a coffee shop and I paid for coffee.

  All through coffee, he kept asking me how he looked and if I liked his jeans. I assured him that I thought he looked gorgeous. After the third time of him asking, I ended up being a little sarcastic and saying, “Yes, you look gorgeous. I’ve already said it. At least YOU’RE getting compliments.”

  “Oh, you look gorgeous too,” he finally said, but the moment had been lost. He seemed high on drugs or something…wired almost. His eyes were darting everywhere and I felt awkward.

  I couldn’t help myself and had to say it! “Why can’t you look at me?”

  “I can, and I am.”

  At some point, Max started to moan about how busy the Trafford Centre was and howhe felt anxious because there were so many people. Suddenly, he didn’t like crowds and felt anxious. I didn’t like that.

  After coffee, he said he wanted to go to a bar for a cold drink. At this point we had engaged in a quick peck on the cheek and held hands, but I had been hoping for a least a snog.

  Then he decided that he wanted something to eat. This is where his clear indecisiveness came in. We ended up in one restaurant but didn’t stay for very long because he thought it too dirty and like a men’s toilet. Though he apparently enjoyed the waitress in tight leather trousers because he didn’t miss the chance to tell me how nice he thought her ass was.

  Next, we decided on a Mexican burrito bar, which was lovely. Max, however, became quite anxious when he couldn’t find napkins, he has to have a napkin to wipe his hands. Once I found napkins he settled.

  The napkin thing should have been a hint of things to come. Let me explain something about myself; I can get quite anxious in the early stages of dating about how clean I am and him never seeing me without makeup. It’s probably my greatest dating flaw. I feel I have to be perfect at all times. This can be emotionally draining. I need somebody I feel is accepting of me and my looks, someone who encourages me to be myself.

  It was at this point that Max started talking about if I didn’t have a shaved pussy, he wouldn’t go anywhere near it. Okay, everyone has a preference, right? But there was more. It must be clean, all the time. Makes sense, clean is good. B
ut it was the final comment that was the killer blow: he didn’t have sex at night because he could smell you the next morning. This would repulse him. I challenged him on this, and he accused me of having anger issues.

  I knew in my heart I would not be happy with this guy. He was too high maintenance for me and would bring out all my anxieties. I didn’t know what to do. So, I did something to force him to make the decision; I told him about losing all my teeth when I was sick. This, however, didn’t seem to faze him. So, I told him about my aneurysm, too. Again, this didn’t seem to faze him, but I was hoping that he would go home and reflect on it.

  At the end of the night, we left each other in the car park. He kept telling me that I was to drive home safely and to text him when I got home. We didn’t snog, just a peck on the lips. I thought that was odd. I mean, all this from a man who continually sent me dirty texts and innuendoes? A man who questioned me constantly about the underwear I wore? And yet he couldn’t just grab hold of me to kiss me

  I didn’t think about him not fancying me; why else would he have been so full on after date one?

  So, we parted ways and we never contacted each other again. Just shows you how they talk the talk but cannot do the walk.

  Derek from Southport

  Here is a really interesting story and as I was living it my friends were seriously worried about me. They worried about the kind of nutter they believed I was getting involved with. But I learned lessons about life from this guy in the short time I was with him. Yes, he was mad, but I did enjoy our time together.

  Derek had looked at my profile and didn’t message me. Now, I’ve said before that I hardlyever look at who has viewed me because it is just a gallery of men who have passed me by - rejected me. But, it seems that I find some interesting ones when I decide to have a look. That’s how I saw Derek’s photo. I’ll be honest, the thing that really grabbed my attention was he lived in Southport – my favorite town.

  I sent him a message, “Shame you passed me by.”

  He responded quite quickly. “I haven’t passed you by. I just haven’t messaged you yet.”

  Odd thing to say really but we started chatting.

  He started getting a little bit flirty and cheeky shall and was starting to irritate me. Eventually, we progressed to WhatsApp where we exchanged voice messages. Derek had the most amazing voice I have ever heard. The more I listened to it, the more I liked him. So we arranged to meet, even though I thought he was a little too pervy for me.

  I turned up to meet him in a very busy, local pub. He was dressed in a smart Italian suit, which for some reason he topped with a scarf and leather white flat cap. As soon as I saw him I thought he was eccentric. Later in the evening I told him that and he was shocked. I pointed out him that no one else in the pub was wearing a flat cap. It didn’t seem to bother him, however, because he wore that hat every fecking date.

  All through dinner he kept telling me that he had something to tell me and wanted us to go somewhere a little more private. Alarm bells were ringing all over the place with me. When I didn’t fall for it, he finally did tell me, “I know what you’re thinking, but your about to learn that I am not your average guy. What you will learn about me will blow your mind. I don’t want to have to sex with you, believe it or not. I am a born again Christian.” That’s a line I haven’t had before. Clever.

  Even after his confession, we made a second date that went so well, David ended up inviting me to his house for the weekend. I was terribly nervous I knew I was probably going to have to be a grown up and have sex unless he stuck to his word about being a born again Christian.

  It was a lovely day and off I went to Southport. I turned up at his house and oh my God! It was massive! A six-bedroomed, detached monster of a thing that seemed to go on for miles. I pulled into his drive where he was waiting for me. He came to open my car door for me. How gallant. Whenwe got to his front door, he grabbed both my hands and maneuvered me to face him.

  “Sasha, I need to bless you before you enter my house. It’s a sacred home. I need you to cleanse your sins before you enter my home.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I looked at him and from the look on his face he was deadly serious. “Do I have to say anything?”

  Derek shook his head.“No, I will pray for us.” Then, he closed his eyes and started speaking in tongues. This really freaked me out. “Lord, please cleanse Sasha from all of her sins and allow her to let you into her heart. Bless her, and keep her safe and rid her of all her evil sins.”

  He looked at me, and I asked, “What do I do?”

  “Repeat after me. Lord, forgive me my sins and come into my heart.”

  I said it without laughing. Fecking typical. This shit can only happen to me.

  Apparently, I did okay because he allowed me to enter the house. As soon as the door closed behind us, he started preaching and telling me his story for the next eight hours…yes, that’s right eight fucking long hours.

  Derek explained that his grandfather was a lord and a descendant to the throne. His heritage led back to King John and William the Conqueror. Both Derek and his father were never recognized by the monarchy, however, because they were born out of wedlock to non-royalty mothers. Now that, in turn, sounded quite intriguing, mad, but the tale took a darker twist. (Please know that as I write this, I never for one moment was taken in.)

  Derek had an abscess in his mouth and believed the only cure was to keep himself pure and in God’s good books because only then would God heal him. When I asked him why he just didn’t to go to the dentist like everybody else, he explained that dentists were evil and part of the Freemasons that were chasing him. He even claimed that one dentist had held him against his will. He’d been strapped in a chair and locked the room as he worked on his teeth.

  “Why would a dentist do that?”

  He got very serious as he leaned in and explained, “Dentists have been given instructions by the Freemasons to persuade me to join them. They are after me because Iam the ‘first born of the first born of the first born.’” I must have looked enrapt because after a short pause, he continued,“The Freemasons are devil worshippers, you know that, right?” I refuted this telling him about their contributions to charities, but he insisted that was low level stuff.

  Then he wanted to show me all the evidence from the internet. He showed me a photograph of the queen greeting Angelina Jolie and zoomed in on their hand shake. (If I suddenly disappear once this book is out, it will be something to do with this bit.)He showed me another picture of the queen and standing beside her was her nurse.

  “Ok,” I said, clearly not seeing the full picture.

  “Look at her belt,” he insisted. To me it looked like a red normal elasticated nurse’s belt. “Look closer.” I zoomed in. I still couldn’t see anything. “Look at the buckle.” I looked at the buckle. It was a serpent wrapped around a staff. “You see, the sign of the Freemasons”

  “So, what? They’re all Freemasons. What’s the big deal?”

  “The deal is this is how large an organization it is. The deal is when these people want to recruit you they will stop at nothing until they get what they want. You are seeing how high this goes.”

  Even after that weekend, and with all his incessant ranting about the Freemasons, I saw Derek for a couple of more dates. By date four, I was beginning to think something wasn’t right (you’re laughing, aren’t you?). When we had been originally talking online, I had worried about how pervy he was, but now I was sort of dating him, he wasn’t touching me. We hadn’t had a snog since the day we met, and one day when he was waffling on and on about Jesus and the Lord, it suddenly dawned on me what was going on.

  I decided to ask him directly, “Can I ask you, is the reason you don’t kiss me because you feel this will arouse you, and you don’t want to be aroused because you have to stay pure?”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  I had another, even bigger, realization. “Hang on a minute. Are you saying to me that becau
se of your religious beliefs, you will not be having sex outside of marriage?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  Now, ordinarily, if he’d been a lovely man, I might have been tempted to wait and just see what happened. But the final nail in the coffin was when he was discussing something generic about his dislike of residents of Belgium. I just said, “I know a lady at work from Belgium.”

  He put his hand up to stop me and said, “Is this story quick?”

  I was so offended. I just said, “No. Sorry. No story there.” He looked at me and carried on preaching for another few hours. It was then I knew, game over.

  I walked away from him that day knowing I would never see him again. Although nearly two years later he texted me out of the blue he thought we hadn’t talked for months. Typical Boomerang mentality.

  Max from Warrington

  Well, I learned during my timeonline, to never to trust a man with the following words in his username; romantic guy, genuine guy and soulmate guy. They usually turn out to be the biggest players.

  I met Max and I was a little disappointed. He was a shorter guy, which is I didn’t really like. But he made me giggle, and as the evening wore on, he grew on me. Though at first, I admit that I thought Max was gay. He had a real effeminate feel to him, but he also had a dominant side to him. I liked that, initially.

  After our date, I made it home and got a text from Max saying what a lovely evening he’dhad and that he wanted to see me again. But then he disappeared for a week or two. He got back in touch eventually and said he was having problems with his parents and he would be in touch soon. True to his word that’s what happened. We once again started chatting.

  To be honest, though, I was a little pissed off that he had disappeared without saying at first. He was, however, very persistent and apologetic about his disappearance. But my guard was up.

  At one point during a conversation he told me about a house he owned in Scotland. He asked me if I wanted to come him sometime. I half-heartedly agreed without really committing myself. He would often chat about his time there. He seemed to love it. Then, he suggestedgoing up the weekend before my birthday. I said I would think about it because what I heard was, “Ok, now we shag.” I decided to hold back on my answer to see if I got a better offer. I didn’t. So as my birthday got nearer I agreed to go. I rang him and accepted his offer.