Remember last year, I was all enthused about men again, for all of ten seconds, and Blondie set me up on the oh-so-classy dating website ‘mysinglefriend.com’? I went on some shockers of first dates, from mind numbingly dull to… oh no, wait, they were ALL mind numbingly dull. However, one day last November, I happened to log in to find a message that was not so much dull as HORRIFYING.
First, lemme give you a bit of backstory here. Last summer – the summer when I discovered my new addiction to the gym and so got so skinny I could fit into my favourite Anglomania pencil skirt again – I happened to help a friend/colleague out one day as she had a huge meeting going on and no minions around to fetch coffee and the like. Being the queen of caffeine, I stepped in with a couple of pots of the strong stuff and saved the day, and unwittingly caught the eye of a big shot producer whose path I had not crossed before.
Fastforward to November, and who should send me a message on MYSINGLEFRIEND.COM but the big shot producer???
Mortifying doesn’t quite cover it.
I staggered into the office in a whirlwind of despair, demanding of my friend (the fool who couldn’t make her own bloody coffee for her own bloody meeting) exactly what I was supposed to do. She found it hilarious. I did not.
Together we composed a polite, but clear rebuttal, and I hit send and crossed all appendages that I would hear nothing more of it.
Oh my dears, perhaps this is the time to break it to the world at large that crossing fingers and toes really doesn’t make a blind bit of difference to the world, and one should really keep appendages un-crossed in these situations, since they may be needed for running away and reaching for wine.
His reply was equally as horrendous. OF COURSE he didn’t want to date me, I was soooooo out of his league after all (his words, not mine. Remember this man had only seen me on a particularly good outfit day) but he just wanted to bask in my presence and perhaps buy me a glass (read: bottle) of wine in a swanky exclusive members club and discuss my career.
OH. DEAR. LORD.
That was the moment I decided to stop paying my subscription and promptly disappear, never to be seen or heard of on mysinglefriend.com ever again.
And that was the end of that.
Or at least it would have been, if I didn’t work in the bloody theatre industry, where everybody knows your name (it’s like a sequinned version of Cheers) and so, dolled up to the nines at the Olivier Awards not so long ago, who do I turn around and almost soak head to toe in champagne? Yes, that’s right.
He emailed me, and he added me on Linkedin. Bloody Linkedin – why am I even on that??? Goddamn my amazing ability to network like a motherbitch.
As of yet, I’ve ignored both. Which is terribly unprofessional but what can I do? This man is twice my age, and not in a George Clooney kind of way. And I do not want to date him, nor do I want to ‘discuss my career’ with him. Ew.
And THAT, my friends, is why dating websites are the work of Lucifer.