Categotry Archives: Misadventures


The Cute Dude with Food

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Categories: DATING, Misadventures, Tags: ,

So before I get to today’s meet I have to confess something . Every Monday after the radio show I used to go to the Caribbean take away and get meals for the week. I know. IT’s my secret shame. Then I was shocked when I gained a few (like 8) pounds around the middle and hips. But one of the guys at the café seemed to take a liking to me and would give me extra big portions. I was convinced that the women secretly hated me because they always gave me WAAAAY too much rice despite e asking for not too much please and lots of sauce. So in the new year I just stopped going. I can’t be single and fat. I just can’t

So back to today and I was on the Victoria line one the way back from Euston with my suitcase and a frown as there were delays on 4 of the tube lines. It was hot and everyone was being testy. Finally the guy standing up in front of me got off the carriage and revealed, Caribbean Food Dude. Let me say that he’s cute and flirty but I always assume that’s part of the banter to get people coming back? That said Caribbean takeaways are hardly known for their customer service. Hmmmm…..

We recognised each other and started chatting. Men love to talk about themselves. Like seriously, I think it’s their hobby. Women have shopping. He told me about his life for the last 25 years back in the Caribbean and how he’s only been here a year. It passed the time as we were stuck at a red light.

I could tell that he thought that this was a golden opportunity to ask where I’d been and I eventually confessed to him that his food was making me fat! There was no mention of the 3 packs of Haribos I chase most meals with though. He told me that it wasn’t the rice as I suspected but the sauce where all the calories lay. Clutching my imaginary pearls I refused to believe that the women weren’t sabotaging me. He then said that he would take my number and give me his so that next time I was coming to the shop I could tell him and he’d prepare me a calorie low version of the meal. Like seriously? I want the calories and taste without the bloody weight gain. Why is he being solution focused.

Things were going well until he started telling me about his recent divorce and kids. Apparently the divorce was fine but he didn’t see his kids and he was ok with that. I asked if he  skyped them and again no. He asked if I had kids and I tod him no and he said, ‘Why no?’ Who asks that? Er, I didn’t really know how to answer this

Numbers exchanged and time to punch his name in. Egbert! Oh dear god no, I don’t see how this would work. He called me an hour later just to make sure my number was right. Yes he’s’ cute but I don’t think we come from the same value base. I also don’t know that I could cope with the weight gain?

Sigh. The search continues

© Chelsea Black



The Train Drain

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Categories: Latest, Misadventures

The train drain

Let me set the scene: It’s a Wednesday evening, the train is late and I’m 548 days into my celibacy sentence

So normally I take the train home with my Train Hubby but, ever since our disagreements over Brexit voting it’s not been the same. I endeavour to take the early trains and we do a polite office catch up instead. Besides, every time I went on a date he would be so negative that I was starting to think he wanted me to be single forever. Anyway, I digress

I was sitting on the train and a guy was sitting on the 4 seater chairs opposite. I was in the middle of a critical google search (what did the lines on my nails mean? Was I dying? Well yes but it turns out that it’s nothing) when he interrupted me to talk. I didn’t even bother to take my earphones out

Dude: Excuse me, do you live in Clapham Junction?

Me: Huh?

Dude: Do you live in Clapham Junction?

Me: No I don’t

Dude: Oh, because I’ve seen you around there.

Please note that we are on a train to Clapham Junction

Me: Nod politely with a tight smile

Dude: I live in Clapham Junction you see.

Me: Ah Ok

Dude: I work in Surrey. I’m a prison officer

Me: OK

Dude: Yeah I’ve been doing it for a year after I studied for it

Me: Congratulations

Dude (perking up): Thanks (he turns his whole big body towards me like he’s going to tell me a secret). There are two prisons but I work in the men’s prison.

Me: OK

Dude: So what do you do?

Me: I work for local government.

Dude then proceeds to tell me about his Housing Benefit woes and how he owes the Council £400 and is paying it back £40 a month.

Dude: So where do you live?

Me: Fulham

Dude: So do you take a bus from Clapham Junction

Me: Overground

Dude: Ah you change at West Brompton right? Yeah I used to work for Overground

He seems so proud

The only thing I can say about this dude is that he doesn’t need e to partake in the conversation

Dude: So I’m from XXX

Me: Yes I know where it is. West Africa

Dude: How do you know it ?

Me: I have an ex from there and friends

Dude: Where is your ex?

Me: Chicago

Dude: I have a friend in Chicago . His name is William Henson. Do you know him?

Me: No

Dude: Why are you smiling?

Me: Chicago is kinda a big place

I know. I had to stay there once as I missed a connecting flight. They put us up at the Holiday Inn

Me: Oooh fancy

Dude: Yes it was . So do you have facebook?

Me: No I don’t (I can’t lie well and he raises his eyebrows). I deleted it recently (not entirely untrue)

Dude: Ok so can I have your number?

Me: No it’s ok

Dude: Oh. Don’t let what you ex from XXX did put you off us.

Me: It hasn’t

Dude. (confused) Oh. Maybe next time then?

Me: mumbles something

The train finally pulls into Clapham Junction and I move into the aisle. Let me clarify that there are hardly any people on the train. So why can I feel this man’s body against my arse? Why is he touching me? I run off the train and up the stairs.

So, this is why! He’s turned what was already a micro-aggressive situation into a creepy one. So now when I’m rude to the next dude it will seem disproportionate. We’re tired.We just want to be left alone to google why our nails may have those weird lines on them

Sigh I almost wish racist Train Hubby was there. Almost

Happy Women’s Day!


Wing Woman Woes

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Categories: DATING, DATING TIPS, Misadventures

Last night I met one of my besties for tapas and a long overdue catch up. (OK ..eff you judgemental lot. Yes I had paella and tapas because tapas isn’t a meal! It’s overpriced starters in way too little bowls.)

Afterwards we ended up at Grace Bar because they played 20 seconds of one song I vaguely remembered from the 90s and I had to go in for a dance. This soon turned into a verse and a chorus of every song released in the top 10 in the last 20 years with no bass and the same dance track bed but, it was too late, she had already been chatted up. What can I say? I have friends who’ve got it like that. Kanye shrugs

Her dude seemed cute but a quick sweep of the room and I settled myself in for a night of reckless dancing among the work Christmas party revelers.  There was nothing for me to see. I lie. There was a dude at the bar but, I thought he was sitting. Turns out he was standing. He was nipple height at best and I’m not looking for a man baby. I went back to dancing my winter woes away.

The animation of the drunk couple next to me was lovely although he did snog her like he hadn’t eaten that day. Take a breath my brother. Save a snack for later. I moved away in case some of his saliva missed her mouth. I couldn’t take risks.

I figured I was safe as I kept a close eye on my friend and her new friend. But then a single woman by herself means that guys assume I was up for being chatted up too. I tried my best, ‘dude, I’m just here for the music resting bitch face’ but the resilience of alcohol was on their side meaning they just ignored me. Patriarchy is still alive. My friend’s new friend wanted to impress so bought us both double vodka cranberries. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I don’t drink and when I do it has to be Grey Goose. It was rank. I think they were rationing out cranberry that night? I politely sipped and thought, this is how men can drug you. I was too nice to say no to a drink I didn’t even want for  a penis that wasn’t even chatting me up? Sigh. I went back to dancing on my own. Sadly no Robyn was played that night.
Then the chancers came over. I know my job is to keep them distracted whilst the transaction between my girl and her new amour occurs but, I’ve forgotten what it was like to wing woman apparently. Why was this dude who had the odour of forced celibacy mixed with an inability to find a shower talking to me? Why was the other dude with the unusually long torso and munchkin legs trying to Strictly twirl me to a Little Mix song? A long shirt and low hanging trousers weren’t helping.  Was his name Luigi or, was this 2001 all over again where he was claiming Italian but was really from Eastern Europe? What were Little Mix actually shouting out to their ex? So many questions but I just stared at him blankly.

I was finally released from my Wing woman duties as numbers were exchanged and I made my way home. As I ubered back to the safety of my sofa I realised that wing womaning isn’t easy oh! I need to rebuild those muscles for small talk and guys leaning in way too closely.

Is there a class I can take? Because I don’t want to fail my friends. And we all need a wing woman once in a while.

© Chelsea Black 2017



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