by Dom Price
“Erm, I think so, but I didn’t ask you to do that?”
“Don’t worry darling. My clients normally pay hundreds of pounds an hour for my consulting brain, but I’m not on the clock tonight, so you can have it for free. Here look. Under threats, I’ve put ‘analysis paralysis’. A threat to you finally getting a date is that you’ve had so many and over-analysed them, then you don’t know what you want anymore. It happens with lots of my clients who are looking to enter new markets. They collect so much data on them that they spend all their time analysing and not enough time deciding. It’s like buying a car that has had a lot of owners.”
“Oh. I really don’t know what to say.” Wendy was beyond perplexed. His actions were border line oppressive, but she was so shocked, that words had escaped her mouth.
“Don’t worry Wendy; you don’t have to thank me. Look, I can’t give you this as I need to write my notes on it. But if you ask the girl at the bar if they have a photocopier or fax machine in their office, I can get them to copy it for you.”
“I really don’t think my friends will believe me when I tell them about you” Wendy replied, trying to get Dave to realise quite how far off the mark he was.
“Weakness; lacks self confidence.” Dave pointed right at Wendy and smiled.
DING DING.
As Dave rose with the ringing of the bell, he was chuffed that he’d helped someone in need, but had a thought. Whilst it’s enjoyable occasionally helping people out, it really was time to get selfish and find himself a lady. “No more pro-bono consulting” he thought to himself.
Approaching girl number 5, Dave was ready for new tactics. In board rooms, he never sat down, preferring the power position of the white board and standing. He couldn’t do that here, but he had to find a power position. It was time for a new gear. His hand was outstretched for the normal handshake, when Dave thought back through some of the cheesy movies he’d seen where Richard Gere or Tom Cruise always got the woman.
Semi instinctively, Dave grabbed her hand, but instead of shaking, he reached down to kiss it. On his downward route, he afforded himself a glance just above her left breast, and in one motion kissed her hand and smoothly delivered the words “It is a pleasure to meet you Janet.”
Happy with this start, and buoyed by the smile on her face, Dave opted to sit next to her rather than opposite. This was the power position and his differentiator for the night.
“I hope you don’t mind if I sit next to you. I just find it so impersonal and almost like an interview when we sit opposite each other. And I’m not looking to employ you.”
“Oh, errr, no problem at all.” She was either flushed from the heat in the pub, drink in her glass, or she was blushing. Either way, they were all positive signs.
“But it’s Janice. You called me Janet, but it’s Janice” she informed him, thrusting her sticker and left breast into Dave’s eye sight.
“I can see that now. Definitely says Janice. I must have got distracted.” Dave’s attempt at an excuse just slipped out, aided by the spirits which were now kicking in and loosening his vocal chords.
“Oh, aren’t you a bit forward Dave.” She was smiling and glancing at his badge. He really didn’t get this flirting lark, but it seemed to work the more inappropriate or accidental he was. Easy...
“Well we’re not getting any younger and the clock is ticking. Just look at Margaret.”. Dave knew what he’d meant. What he’d meant was funny and witty, and related more to the three minutes which they had together in which time they were supposed to decide whether to tick each other or not. What he’d inadvertently done was to infuriate Janice.
“I don’t think it is ever funny to remark on how a woman’s body clock is ticking, as you should be aware that is an extremely sensitive issue. Yes, I want kids one day, and maybe time isn’t on my side, but I’ve had a fulfilling and exciting life to date and haven’t had the opportunity or desire to bring a child into the world yet. Now that doesn’t make me selfish, and nor does it imply any future desire to have children. And as a dear friend of mine, I am sure Margaret would be deeply offended by your inferences about her.”
“Sorry Janet, that wasn’t what I meant. What I meant was...”
“JANICE. My name is Janice. Maybe you are struggling to remember it because of the loud noise that my body clock makes as the hands tick around?”
“Sorry Janet. It was lovely meeting you.” There was no bell. The three minutes wasn’t up.
As they sat in silence, Dave sneaked a peak at Anne, who was on fire. Giggling and rolling in fits of laugher, he could see the guy’s eyes simply light up. What a sad truth that would be, if the only tick he got was from his sister.
Without a word, and before the bell had sounded, Dave escaped for a toilet visit and splashed his face with cold water in an attempt to freshen up his game. The sitting next to a girl thing seemed to work, and relaxed them as much as him, but the flirting idea just wasn’t working. Dave knew he had to revert to his comfort zone and focus on business chat. Not only was this his best tactic, but he knew it would sort the wheat from the chaff and enable him to find a suitable candidate. He didn’t just want anyone. He wanted someone who appreciated him.
A few more dates passed, with mixed results. There was a tax accountant who showed promise with her qualifications and career goals, but ultimately she wasn’t for Dave. Her hobbies were playing the violin and reading science fiction. Whilst she had potential as a companion, he really didn’t score her well for the “wow factor” that he’d require when it came to introducing her to colleagues. He played the scenario out in his head, and it meant there was no tick for Lucy. He went through it again in his head.
“Nick, this is my partner Lucy. She’s a tax accountant...” No real excitement, impact or much else to say. Telling his boss that his lady friend can knock out a few tunes on a violin isn’t going to seal a promotion to the big time. But Dave was pleased by the progress. He’d gone 5 dates without offending anyone.
Dave decided to use the women who he immediately knew wouldn’t get a tick from as practise ground. As he’d said to Anne during the drinks break when they’d discussed progress and problems, “you never see a golfer hitting the course without a few practise swings around the back.”
Kelly, number 8, smiled like a fish that had just been hooked, and had a set of teeth that resembled Stonehenge. In fact there were more gaps than there were teeth, and on sitting down, the bright yellow stains on her fingers suggested she was a little more than a sociable smoker. So as a definite no, she made the perfect practice swing.
In three minutes, Kelly proved a theory that Dave had read online as part of his extensive dating research, that all women add up to a hundred. The theory stated that all women score differently in varying categories, but once netted off, they all add up to the same score, being 100. The trick of dating, per this theory, was that you had to find the woman that scored well on the things that were most important for you. For looks, sense of humour, smile, and spending lots of time with, Kelly would score 350. For introducing to anyone that Dave ever worked with or knew professionally, she would score minus 250! Net score of 100, but not a good match.
But the banter had flowed, and not only had Dave enjoyed himself, but he had got his eye in. “I’m number 13, which is lucky for you. Just tick Dave, you know you want to.” He felt like a politician on an election campaign trail.
Passing Anne as he turned the corner to his next date, Dave asked her “Why is it so much easier with the ugly ones? Is it because they try harder because they need to?”
His question had been genuine, but the whack that he got from Anne suggested that it was inappropriate. Dave’s judgement was slurring as the drinks kicked in, and his memory was blurring with it. He looked at his note card that Margaret had provided him with, which is where he was supposed to jot down thoughts about the women that would refresh his memory. In true Dave style, each lady got 3 words written as part of their summary. It’s
the magic number.
Five more dates to go. He was on the home straight. He hadn’t ticked any girls yet, but was positive he’d got at least 5 ticks so far. Five dates left, one of which was his sister, so four potential women.
Luckily for Dave, the next date was a lovely lady by the name of Anne. Sitting down with their final drinks, Dave provided a post mortem of the night so far and bombarded Anne with his thoughts, challenges and quandaries.
“So come on date number 21. What can I do?”
“Dave, I think Tony probably told you this, and I am going to say the same. You just have to be yourself. You are who you are, and you need someone who appreciates that. I think we all know by now that you can’t change! So whatever comes naturally and however you feel most comfortable, just be like that.”
“Well Sis, thanks for great advice and a hilarious night. And if I haven’t learnt anything else, I’ve learnt what I don’t want” pointing to the words that he had written.
Date 22 had promise and seemed like a very level headed lady, with an excellent education, positive career planning and enough ambition to understand a man of Dave’s seniority. However, the open question of “What would your perfect weekend be made up of?” had revealed a few sticking points.
“Oh, I love collecting old dolls and I have lots of dolls houses, so I’d probably either work on my collection or scour a few vintage collectors’ shops looking for additions to my collection.”
Deal breaker for Dave.
Date 23 was another good chit chat, but her love for recycled clothes and desire to donate to charity at all possibilities erked Dave. A man who spent £1000 on a suit couldn’t really empathise with a woman who enthused at spending £10 on an entire outfit. The test would be her reaction to his views on charity.
“You know, charity is an intriguing topic with many different views. I give to charity by supporting the economy, through working and paying taxes, through shopping and spending my money and therefore through encouraging business and the macro and micro level. In theory, if you give too much to charity, you actually create a market and encourage poverty and begging, and instead of providing a solution for it, you make it worse.”
Deal breaker for her!
Date 24 came and went, with minor difficulties. Chi, was of Malaysian origin, but had lived most her life in the UK. She’d spent several years studying in France. Whilst educated and well travelled, the combination of languages and accents, mixed in with the increasing background noise of 50 people on their penultimate dates, meant that Dave got very little of what she said. Before the 3 minutes were up, he’d already filled in his note card, and afforded Chi 4 words rather than the customary 3. “Mey no spik Ingwish”
Date 25 was Dave’s final attempt of the night. He’d not sobered up, but the euphoria of the event was draining as the tiredness from meeting, and trying to impress 24 single women took its toll. It was no surprise to Dave that he was feeling weary, as by his own private admission, he was certainly lacking match practice. In fact, as a fan of statistics, it was fair to say that he was still an apprentice. But only Dave knew his closely guarded secret.
As well as a smile, Dave managed a nod of acknowledgement as he got close to Diane. She appeared to be unassuming, which Dave saw as a quality. He wanted someone who was subtly impressive. Someone who would wow on introduction, and not wow for the wrong reasons such as being garish, having no teeth, not speaking Ingwish or for being startlingly dull. Her aesthetics were simple, yet appealing, and the opening dialogue seemed positive. She was a junior in a finance firm in the city. Young and ambitious, but focused. Dave was particularly warmed by the fact that she was the same age as him but a few rungs lower on the corporate ladder. Someone who could understand him without ever competing with him...perfect.
Dave naturally slipped into work chat and they seemed to hit it off quite well, to the point where the 3 minute bell came and went, but to them it didn’t signify the end of the nights dating. The conversation flowed and they exchanged stories of funny clients, higher level education, troublesome clients, annoying bosses and the general challenges of being a young up and coming professional in the city.
As Dave checked to see where his sister was, Anne was being entertained by a middle aged balding man, with a tweed jacket sporting leather elbow patches, he knew things were safe for a while. The conversation with Diane blossomed and they soon moved on to topics significantly more personal.
Diane began by speaking at length about her hobbies, going to the gym and her family. Dave retaliated with stories of his passion for business and for learning more, his commendations from the University where he’d secured his double degree and the press coverage that he’d got with his record MBA scores.
With a brief toilet break, Dave saved Anne from the ‘rare book collector’ in tweed, and filled her in on progress with Diane.
“So it seems to be going well. It started off brilliantly, but she is pressing me about all this personal stuff, and I’m not entirely comfortable with it. What shall I do?”
“Bro, just take it slowly. You are on your 25th date of the night and first date with her. No rush to cover your entire backgrounds just yet.”
With Diane returning from the toilets with a smile, Dave headed back to their seat and continued the conversation. He chatted a bit about his family and enthusiastically told stories about his business ventures as a teenager. His perfume empire that never quite made it past start up phase, when he used to stew rose petals in water. He even shared with her one of the biggest insights into his psyche as he explained his love for the rule of three and how everything was in threes. This was a brave step for Dave, and a major part of him was opening up to the idea of companionship.
“Can I get you a drink? I was just going to have one more and I’d love to get you one?” Diane didn’t know the truth, that, other than his sister Anne or a client, this was probably the first time Dave had ever offered to buy a woman a drink as part of a date. His confidence and smile suggested that he was a veteran, not a novice.
“I could get you a vodka, lime and lemonade. Rule of three you see!” Dave encouraged, seeing definite progress in this situation.
Looking down at her watch, Diane’s face screwed up slightly around the lips as she deliberated on Dave’s offer.
“Honestly, I’d love to, but I can’t right now.”
“Yeah, I’ve got an early start tomorrow and some killer meetings too. Probably got a few e-mails to deal with before bed too. I know what you mean.”
“No it’s not that. I have my son tomorrow, so I need to pick him up from his Dad’s in the morning.”
“Your who? What? A who from where?”
“Sorry, I should have mentioned it early. There just never seems to be a good time. ‘Hello, I’m Diane, I’m divorced and I have a 4 year old son, would you like me to leave?’
Dave didn’t speak. He was using every bit of energy and trying to locate the sober cells in his body to evaluate the situation. Diane certainly ticked all the boxes from a corporate and companion perspective. She’d be a natural at work social events and would definitely convince Big Nick that Dave was ready for that promotion. As a companion, she seemed to have shared interest, in that she was ambitious, career minded, and driven. But there was a dagger prodding into Dave’s back, and he couldn’t help but think that things had just ended before they had started. Assessing what to do next, Dave reached his conclusion. The risks were too great. Not only would his kudos be irrecoverably damaged by introducing his partner as having a child from a previous relationship, but he wasn’t ready to be a father. Dave was at the bottom of a steep learning curve, and he knew, without discussing it with Diane, that he wasn’t ready to fill those kinds of shoes. Shoes that he hadn’t even been asked to fill.
“Before you get too worried Dave, I’m not looking for a surrogate father for him. I’m looking for a man for me. You know, just because I have a kid, doesn’t mean that I don’t have needs.”
> Dave had an answer ready, but his words weren’t required for once. Diane had seen that face before. The slump in excitement. The eyes that dart around the room looking for an escape. The steam coming out of the ears as the brain computes a nice way to let you down. She knew.
As she brushed passed him, Diane leaned down. At first, it seemed that she was leaning to give him a kiss, so Dave relaxed and offered his cheek casually. Then he heard the words whispered in his ear.
“Rule of three yeah? Ignorant, selfish, prick!”
In the taxi on the way home, Dave learnt that Diane had let him off lightly, as Anne tore into him.
Sitting at home recovering, listening to “Best of the 90’s”, dejected but driven still, Dave realised that Phase 2 of the plan wasn’t working. One of the major successes of his meteoric rise in the corporate world was based on knowing when to change tact. “Fail Fast” Dave had often taught the people around him. “If you are going to fail, then don’t waste any time worrying about it or trying to retrieve it. Fail, learn from it and move on.”
Reaching onto the coffee table, he picked up the document that was supposed to sort out this problem and reviewed Phase 3.
“New product in a new market. Reinvent and innovate.”
Dave’s eyes rolled as he realised that all his powers of innovation from working with blue chip clients would be called on. The first two iterations of Dating Dave Marsdon hadn’t worked, but the rule of three always paid off for Dave, and surely would this time.
Thinking through ways to drastically reinvent the product and find a new market in which to sell it was preying on Dave’s mind as he settled in bed. Deep in the back of his head, that recurring thought hit him. He was alone, but he was used to it. Reaching for the remote to turn the music off a wry smile was smattered across Dave’s tired and lonely face, as an old favourite played from the bedroom speakers.
“I don’t want, anybody else, when I think about you I...” Dave hit the power button.
