The Dating Oath

After a series of bad internet dates  I had given up on dating. I had instead become obsessed with finding perfection in a romantic  film where one or both the protagonists don’t die, stutter their feelings awkwardly, or speak like the kids from Dawson’ Creek. So far I have managed to discern that this is more likely in an independent world cinema film than anything Hollywood or Richard Curtis can write.

So the question is how am I going to do it differently this time? All of the other times I’ve dated I have simply said yes. Good question my precious and the answer is ……I’m not. Well not entirely.

I have reached that age (ask and you shall die) where finding the perfect mate has become as elusive as finding the perfect rom com, hairdresser, therapist, psychic (yes I’m still smarting from that bitch’s comments). I thought I had come close recently but then I think he loved the illusion and the reality fell flat. No literally, I fell. Linda and I had just polished off a bottle of champers.

But I’m not stupid I know that I’m not going to get a break from my family (shout out to Mama Black and her chants for grandkids) until I play the game and engage in a torrid love affair or a practical attempt to settle down. Have you noticed that settle down has the word DOWN in it? Why not settle up?

I digress. There is very little that the world outside Hollywood says is positive about relationships except security and tax breaks. I pursue one because I love cuddles and apparently it’s illegal to relieve men of their sperm without their consent. I checked.

So, as I resume a life back in the throes of dating and, inevitably some dating woes I take the following oath:

I Chelsea Black being of mainly chocolate, champagne and chick flicks do solemnly swear to try not to date TWATS anymore. I.E. Those I deem to be

a)      Thick

b)      Wasters of my time

c)       Arseholes

d)      Teasers not pleasers

e)      Suckers of energy

I swear to do this with the openness I have shown for the last 5 years and remember to put my wealth, health and happiness before that of any partner. Especially those who have

a)      Identified commitment issues

b)      Debts similar to those of a small country

c)       Mental Health problems – diagnosed or not

d)      Dramas with exes, wives, kids, mothers, the man

I will also stop being so bloody polite. I think my disbelief that some men haven’t mastered the basic etiquette of dating has meant that I’ve given hours to those that should have gotten minutes. Damn me and my incessant nosiness.

No this time my precious I am going to do it even more fabulously. Because if there is one thing I’ve learned is that my Fubo is an elusive, rare creature hunted by many. Maybe I should wait for him to find me?

NAH!!!! Let the games recommence!


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