So I’m struggling a bit.
I keep going on dates and meeting new people and putting myself out there but it seems I can’t convert to the elusive second date.
Well that’s not entirely true, the Spanish fox did get back in touch and invited me to go to his house for a Spanish omelette, which I think was a euphemism for sex, so I declined. Not only did Croydon seem a long way to go for an omelette but it seemed like a lack-lustre suggestion for a second date, particularly after date one started with shopping in a rugby shop. So the Spanish fox was finally kicked into touch.
So I headed back to the world of swiping and liking and managed to match with a born and bred Londoner. He had awesome dimples so let’s call him Mr Dimples. After some texting back and forth we arranged a date the following week, which I was really looking forward to.
But as ever – nothing is straightforward in the dating world of Nat. You see, I was out several nights before our date, at a magic show of all things, when I saw several alerts from Mr Dimples ping on my phone. Rather than be rude and read them while I was out I waited until I got home, opened the app and like magic my match had disappeared. Poof, vanished, gone.
What the hell? What had happened? Had I done something? What were the messages about? Where did he go? What about our bloody date?
Always keen to learn from my mistakes or actions I decided to try and find him. You see, everyone on Tinder has to have a Facebook profile. So I cobbled together what limited information I could remember about him and low and behold I tracked him down on Facebook.
Now what?!? I had nothing to lose, and many unanswered questions and if I’m going to get anywhere with my love life then I need to learn a thing or two about this dating malarky – so I messaged him.
“Um – I’m intrigued. Tinder is always a learning experience. What did I do wrong?”
I waited…..
He wrote back and explained he’d messaged me his phone number on Tinder and then promptly deleted his profile as he’d had enough of it. Problem was, I hadn’t seen the number because I hadn’t read my alerts. Lucky for him I’m inquisitive and went searching for answers. So we got back on track and confirmed our date for the Thursday night.
And as dates go, it was one of the best so far. We chatted, we laughed, we drank, we flirted and it felt great. I really felt a connection. He had fabulous banter and was full of interesting factoids, like the story behind why wedding cakes have three tiers. It stems from a story back in the 1700s when a baker’s apprentice wanted to ask for the hand in marriage of his bosses’ daughter so he baked a cake based on the steeple of St Bride’s Church in London. (If you look at the steeple it looks like a wedding cake!).
The conversation was so good that we lost track of time and Mr Dimples almost missed his train home. We walked to the nearest Tube and said our goodbyes. You will be pleased to know that I nailed the goodbye kiss this time!
So we continued to text over the next week and I was keen to sort out date number two. The minor hiccup was that on the day of our first date I had booked a four week trip back to Oz to see my family and I was leaving the following Thursday.
It was impossible to squeeze in another date before I left. I was slightly worried that with four weeks in between, that the interest would wane, but to my surprise we continued to text on and off throughout my trip away.
And when I got back to London a month later I was keen to do my best to get this second date. I liked this guy. I thought we had a great connection, I was attracted to him and I wanted to see him again. So I got brave and went for it.
A week between texts, me feeling like I’m making all the effort. What’s gives? And how bloody hard is it to just meet up again?
He responded to my pulse text with something, which I think was meant to be funny about a pulse coming from the heart and I responded by saying “that is correct – but where does interest come from?”
Three weeks later and nothing.
No response, no second date and a slight sense of frustration. Where did his interest go? I mean he said yes to a second date, he went to the effort of texting while I was in another hemisphere and then I get back and nothing.
Is it about timing, did my trip cause too much time between the momentum of the excitement of the first date, or is just another one who at the end of the day is just not that into me?
I could take the road of never knowing. But, he knows I write a blog. I had told him I thought he would be a slow burn. So in the interests of dating and learning, I’m going to send him the link to this and see what happens. Going by my conversion rate I’ve got nothing to lose. I can end up with an equaliser of having no response, I get some insight about what went wrong, or I may even get that elusive second date. The ball is in your court now Mr Dimples.
loveintheslowlane 