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the singles mixer part 2

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The singles mixer part 2

Ok so I’ve said something positive about the men. I know it hurt me more than it did you my precious. I don’t typically like to say anything positive about a man unless it involves chocolate or sex and in this case it involved neither!

But back to the women and the mixer.

First of all we are all single. Therefore we are in the same dating recession. I’ve been in mine for 3 years so I really don’t think you can pull the “It’s so hard out there” card without real hard evidence that you’re struggling to get even a Nandos. Some however clearly feel that they are less deserving of being in a dating recession than the rest of us.

There was the one who tried to cancel because she felt that she didn’t look good that day. I was clear. Slap on some lippy and get your arse over here now. Nothing was ruining my numbers. NOTHING

(I would like to take this opportunity to acknowledge that yes,  I am somewhat of a planning nazi. There is nothing casual or cool about me in this mode. This is how I will home school the kids FuHu so it’s all practise ;) )

Then there was the small group who looked at the guys and declared there was nothing worthwhile in the room. WHAT!  Hello! They guys had made an effort. Some of them are even cute. They were there looking dapper in their suits and were really gentleman like. Some downright shocked me as I’d never seen them be anything but jokey. I didn’t appreciate them cussing perfectly cool guys.

I found myself getting stressed, the ungrateful bitches. I had to do my exercises (count to ten and breathe black woman, breathe!) And then I looked at the women…it wasn’t me they were attacking. They were just lining up their excuses for when no one “picked” them. This was P.E. all over again. Except I could run fast so was picked near the beginning but I recognised that look on some of their faces. Here we were in our 30s (not me FuHu, I’m however old you want me to be) and they were still being picked last? No one wants to be picked last. And these women seemed to be the whole package. I could see that they too couldn’t understand the situation they were in.

So I had an easy icebreaker prepped  to get everyone talking and the clique started moaning. It was too difficult apparently. They couldn’t do it. It involved talking to guys who were really friendly and in no way bitchy and yet some of them thought this was too hard? I wanted to slap a couple and say “you’re not 26 anymore chica, you’ve got to put in some effort and stop relying on your looks.”  It was interesting being  sober and on the outside looking in. I realised that I could hold the same event next year but the guys will have all hooked up whilst some of those women would still be single.

It was strange that whilst some were complaining I saw other women working the room getting numbers and Facebooks effortlessly. These were the ones who were able to put their insecurities aside and just have fun with it. And they were cleaning up whilst the others found reasons why they couldn’t do it.

Then there were those who left the event and then started texting and asking about guys AFTER they left. What did they think this was? If you can’t hope yourself up in a group this small then how are you going to sustain any type of dating communication? I wasn’t impressed.

As the night wrapped up we all headed out and as I had feared some of these women didn’t even  know how to make small talk. The guys reported being grilled by some of the women and even the odd aggressive comment from a couple I recognised straight away as being from the catty clique from earlier that on.

So the mixer had mixed success. I don’t think those that really want out of the dating recession did anything but compound their situation. But for those who came for a laugh and a possibility….well I’m not one to gossip but I’ve heard stories. Well done you!

So those women if you are reading this please buck up and get your game together. No one else can do it for you

Happy mixing!

© Chelsea Black

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The singles mixer

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singles mixer

The singles mixer part 1

So the other day I helped organise a singles mixer. I know I’m unemployed and should be spending all of that time looking for a boring job that will make me bump into people on the commute because I’m angry at the world. Instead I delude myself into thinking that getting people together is much more important. Yes I have some issues. I’m being counselled by MBNA on it.

So there I was organising this mixer when I remembered an episode of SATC in which they took the guys they no longer wanted to date to a mixer. It was inspired. It meant that the numbers were even and let’s face it, one woman’s Primani is another woman’s Selfridges. It’s on the same street!

So this is mind, I posted it online and waited. Nothing . All the women I spoke to told me that it was a great idea but, they didn’t know any men . What did that mean? Then the usual excuses started.

“I don’t know any single men!” – this from those that date at least 5 times a month.

“All my male friends are married!” –Both of them right?

“I’m not comfortable bringing any ex to something like this.” – what about colleagues or cousins?

I see. So you want to meet new guys but you have nothing to bring to the party? I don’t understand this. You want to eat at the buffet but not bring even a salad or a dessert or store bought biscuits? But more on them later.

So I was stuck. I had a group of women and the legacy of singles events where women outnumber the men 3 to 1. I wasn’t going to go down like this. So I did what any woman on a mission would do….I dipped into my own archives.

I started with a text to every man in the phone. I didn’t care if they were exes, friends or people I wasn’t even sure how I knew they got a text. Then I went on Facebook and reconnected with men I barely say hi to but I knew they were single. A girlfriend would have made them change their status.  Some ignored it and others seemed insulted. Whatever, those were single but still in denial. Besides we are in a dating recession. No time to be precious. 2 of the exes said yes then messed me around on the day. Probably for the best as one tried to barter sex as a trade-off for his presence at the mixer. I had to explain to him how mixers worked. Besides, there was no way I was going anywhere near that explosive pistol again. The control was faulty.

But you know what…I now know who my true male friends are. 4 in particular came out and dragged their friends with them. I ended up with 11 guys and my friend Linda brought 1 too. Then there is the worry that they wouldn’t behave appropriately because you know men and curves in the same room. But they all did. I was so proud of them.

So this is a thank you kindly my male friends for supporting me. I will go on to talk about the women in the next blog. But let’s just say I know now why some are single.

Yeah I said it. And what?

© Chelsea Black

Reverse snobbery

My friends I have been a victim. A victim of yet another bad date you ask in shock? No. This time it is a lot worse. I am a victim of reverse snobbery.

So apparently you have to have hustled really hard to get respect in this town. You have to have been raised on an estate and lost people through drugs or gang violence? Otherwise your rags to riches story isn’t worthy. And some guys consider not having struggled a sin again cool.

This happens a lot if you grew up outside of London. My tales of kicking it outside McDonalds in the home counties just don’t hold tight with tales of violence gone wrong. OK, I hung out outside a McDonalds once until my mum spotted me and made me go home because she said it looked cheap.  Even those tales just don’t have the same climatic ending as losing friends in beefs over a girl or a patch. Not a nicotine patch my precious. Yes I was confused too.

And yet I thought I was real enough. I suffer the same torgure that is the hair salon as anyone else. I support Nandos as a dating option. I’ve even been known to KFC. I can hang!

But more recently I’ve noticed that this reverse snobbery is getting worse. The other day a guy made a comment about me never being able to survive in the real world. Huh? Is West London not the real world? Apparently he based this on a hand wash in my bathroom. It was Avocado and Jojoba. I bought it because it was green and I like Avocado. I still haven’t figured out what Jojoba is but that’s a whole different blog. It was from Waitrose but seriously must I mission on a bus to get to a Lidl to show that I’m keeping it real? And what’s keeping it real about Lidl? I’m not one to inconvenience myself for the ‘right’ kind of carrier bags.

I was not impressed. But then I realised that I coudlnt’ ever to be with someone who judges me negatively on the way I spend my money or where I grew up. Can you imagine if a man put me on a Haribos budget? Eh eh, then you would know. These are things that make us all unique. Instead I think they hope they can shame you into changing. No my precious this chick is all about the M&S food treats no matter where the basic shop is done. And why change? There’s only 18 months left of the recession then we’re all ok!

In turn I don’t really look favourably on those who dress younger and pretend that they are still hustling. You’re an old IT consultant dressing like your kids in order not to look like you’ve sold out? Yes that sounds healthy. Maybe I should start dressing more like the kids.

That said I do react badly if I notice one ply toilet paper or certain foods aren’t Heinz. Ketchup and Baked Beans aren’t meant to be anything but Heinz, come on! Or if I’m expected to enjoy going to Brixton. I don’t, I just find it sad. Ok, I have some things I could work on but seriously don’t judge me on not struggling. Instead judge me on what I am now. A woman with avocado themes in her bathroom.

© Chelsea Black

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