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Digging Deep male gold digger

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Categories: BLOG, DATING, DATING TIPS, Latest

Digging Deep – the male gold digger

Dating is a glorious activity but, like all fairy tales with quests there are villains. So recently the question of gold diggers has come up. The Male gold digger.

They exist! Remember Mel B’s ex? Not Stephen Belafonte the other one? No, the other one! Jimmy G the Dutch dancer? And the indomnitable ex of Britney Spears? Kevin F redefined the smash and grab male gold digger. Yes they’re both dancers but, if I’m honest I don’t think it’s related to a whole career. Maybe just

No my precious, the average dater has to contend with a more mediocre type of digger. But, diggers they are. The dating digger. There are varying levels of digger but essentially these are men who date for financial or social gain. Not so much the rinsing of online women, no, these ones are interviewing for a Sweetner Mummy to help them through to the next level of life. These men aren’t ready to adult and are happy to prey on women who may not have that much themselves.  Be careful. I’ll take you through the obvious ones:

Dinner Digger

You go out on a date and he doesn’t put his hand in his pocket when the bill comes? Dude ate a storm though and was even deliberating between starters and desserts because, this may be his last decent meal this week. Dude was all about, ‘Shall we order another bottle of the Italian red? It does go well with Wagyu beef.’ This guy dates to live.  If you play the bill staring game then, pay the bill then grab your purse and run, he’s too pathetic even to date. This man is not for you. A new trick is for guys to throw in £30 after they ascertain you’re paying by card when the bill is clearly over £100. Selfish lover. Move on

Date Digger

Forgets his wallet, doesn’t ever pay for anything but is happy to suggest a trip away, hotels, plays he wants to go to, seminars he has to go to to make it to the next level. This is basically a professional student looking for a bursary and mentor. The implication being that he would like to adult but doesn’t quite know how. Dude is 43.  He has a job. His lifestyle is not your financial responsibility.

Den Digger

Too any questions about your living situation are the red flags. Who you live with, if you own or rent, how much you’re paying, how many bedrooms etc. It’s interview 101 and you may think it’s because he wants to shag (there’s a possibility that this is an access question because he lives with a wife or parents question, true) but to be honest you need to work out if you ever saw yourself moving your clothes out of your spare room so that you can move him and his comic and trainers collection in.

If you’re happy being dug and this is how you get your relationship high then fine but, let’s just accept that the dating recession has led to a lot of diggers out there looking to milk. You’re not a cow.

Happy Dating!

© Chelsea Black 2017

 

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Roadrunner aka the leggings

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Categories: Latest, Misadventures

Disclaimer: I’m not hot. I just have a butt and a penchant for wearing leggings. Roadrunners are a new phenomenon. Unfortunately the leggings of 16th March 2017 have special powers and have not been reduced to house only leggings. Men act like leggings are an invitation to fuck. They’re just leggings. Here’s how it went down:

So I was on my way to French class and about 3 minutes from my house. I had just passed the spot where I’d gotten mugged in 2010 and was thinking about how I was going to explain in French that I hadn’t done my homework (again) due to sheer laziness. As I was listening to my music I spotted a black guy in a diarrhoea brown leather jacket running in the middle of the road against traffic. This was a one way street? Where the fuck was he going? I watched as he nearly got run over by a delivery scooter as he looked to cross over to the other side. Cue Chicken jokes.

Turns out he was jogging to me. He came over and a conversation ensued

Me: Are you ok?

Roadrunner: Yeah.

Me: Can I help you?

Roadrunner: Yeah I saw a gorgeous young lady so ….

Me: You better go find her then?

Roadrunner laughs like Ricky Gervais. Am I a comedian though?

Roadrunner: Hi I’m Roadrunner

Me: OK

Roadrunner: Can I chat to you

Me: Regarding?

Roadrunner: [sensing that he’s losing me] So do you live around here?

Me: Yeah

Roadrunner. What’s your name

I tell him. He asks if it’s short for anything. I lie and say no. I don’t have the energy. And now he’s making me late for French. Grrrrr

Roadrunner: I’m in Wembley. I’m just on my way to the gym because, you know. That’s how I live my life?

This confuses me. Are we about to have some sort of metaphysical / existential conversation? On a THURSDAY?

Me: Ok Dude I have to go

Roadrunner: Wait! Where are you going.

I explain French class. He has a weird accent

Me: What’s with the accent

Roadrunner: I went to an American school but grew up in Europe.

Me: I see.

Roadrunner: So where are your parents from?

Why Black Jesus are you bringing all these thirsty men to me?

Me: South Africa. And yours are from Nigeria right?

Roadrunner: Yes! How did you know?

Me: A strong guess

Roadrunner: Can I get your number so that we can chat later.

I give him my number. Maybe he IS my person. You never know.

Roadrunner calls me immediately to make sure I had his.

Me: Why? I’m not going to call you ?

Roadrunner does his Ricky Gervais laugh and asks me what I do. I lie.

Me: What do you do? I

Roadrunner: I’m a broker. But also I work as an administrator in a hospital.

So, he’s a broke broker who needs a side job? I sigh and go to French. This one is just a liar. I see. He said he would call me about French but it’s already after ten. I blame the leggings. It was too soon for Spring attire. The men aren’t ready. And for those that don’t know, that’s sarcasm.

Aw lawd he’s started whatsapping about my figure. I may have to block him. Sigh

Night all!

© Chelsea Black

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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

 

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