So earlier this year I was working at a place where I suspected a guy liked me. I wasn’t sure if I felt the same way. A few things. For someone who is always half a stone over her ideal weight I’m the worst sort of hypocrite: a bit of a fattist. I just can’t have anyone competing with me on the budda belly front and he made Maxine my budda belly look like Kylie’s butt in a South African market. Tiny.
Also there was his spelling and grammar. These are my bug bears. My counsellor and I worked on it. Well she tried to work on it and I just pretended to listen. I know it’s stupid but I really can’t deal with someone who spells words like Uncle wrong and has completely abandoned the use of commas and fullstops. It’s just a thing. I don’t want to have to think that forever and a day I can’t let that man near my future children’s homework for fear that they come home crying about a D they got because Daddy helped them. Yes I do think that far ahead.
Anyway my precious I digress. I didn’t hear from him for ages despite my psychic strongly suggesting that he was Fuhu. He just disappeared. This was the usual ‘I have other, better options’ type of disappearance. But then the other day I got a chat from him. It started off innocently enough just catching up and I duly responded trying not to wince at the 5 sentences that ran into each other. He suggested meeting up and I said that would be cool. At which point the conversation changed. I guess this was the green light he needed because he practically invited himself to my house. My house?
[Scratch Record]
Seriously I don’t understand this new phenomenon of just inviting yourself around to someone else’s house. It happened with Gold tooth who eventually agreed to a lunch but I shouldn’t be getting it again so soon from a guy who had never made a move previously. He told me that when we met it was going to be hot? Yes British Gas and I keep a warm home but he was never going to see the inside of it. I called him a joker.
It’s a shame because part of me was pleased that he was interested. I thought that at least my spider sensors were still working and I knew when I guy liked me. But it was ages since I’d seen him and I wasn’t really feeling the long disappearance but plenty of Facebook updates. I was thinking of ways to let him down gently but I really didn’t have to.
He told me that he would be in my area this week and that I should give him my number and 
he’ll give me a call in the day. So, I was just going to be a drive by? And he had lost my number? What nonsense was this? I can’t my precious. I’m just not that committed to listening to my therapist or my psychic I guess. This dating shop is truly closed to idiots try as they may.
Dating etiquette is truly dead. Serves me right for even considering someone from South London (I kid, a little)
Oh and, he’s still waiting for that number. I’m off to Kings Road to treat myself.
© Chelsea Black
I know the feeling of cringing at bad spelling and grammar. For me, it just makes me think “Don’t start calling me ‘baby’, sweetness, because you are a 5 nighter at best.”
Still, if you are going to cuss the guy for his misuse of commas, you ought to get all yours in the right places too, eg: after adverbial clauses, ahem!
Ah but I don’t claim my grammar or spelling to be perfect. Far from it. We all slack in the digital age. In fact the joy of blogging is that I don’t have to edit and follow the rules if I choose not to dear. But as long as one can understand what I’m saying that’s fine. His on the other hand is almost as hard to decipher as a 14 year old’s text speak. The man is 47