The spread bet dating experience

It sounded too good to miss. Black dinner dating. 10 men dates in one night!

Yes it was in Liberty Lounge, Aldgate East which meant a taxi in traffic to avoid the tubes. But I’m brave my precious. I put on those (work) heels and the only LBD that covered my budda belly Maxine.

The first thing I noticed is that I knew 4 of the men including my friend / diet coach Jamel. So that was me, 40% down already. It then transpired that there were only 8 men. I’m not a betting woman but the evening’s odds weren’t looking great. But I waded into the mix with a smile.

The first one I spoke to was from up north.  He was already sweating before we sat down. Not from the heat or nervousness but from sheer girth. Someone had been eating his Daddy bear sized porridge portions. We chatted away but his eyes said he wasn’t interested whilst mine were saying I didn’t want to risk my John Lewis bed which I had assembled myself.  He told me that he was into spread betting and I asked what were the odds of me pulling tonight? He didn’t laugh.  I did perk at the mention of him being a tube driver. A free tube pass is a wonderful, wonderful asset my precious but no.

Next was weak hand shake guy. A strong accent prompted me to ask him where it was from and he looked mortally wounded. He claimed that it was a personal question and that no one had ever asked him that before. I strongly suspect he was lying. He was Nigerian and worked for his brother in a business that was clearly too complicated to bother explaining.  He bitched about his ex.  Apparently she was a gold digger who dumped a guy for not being able to pay shared bills. I asked him who would want to be with someone who couldn’t pay the bills? The conversation quickly died and my raspberry mojito absorbed me. Those 15 minutes dragged.

Lucky number 3 was divorced aged 45 and lived in Milton Keynes. Clearly it was acrimonious as he clenched his jaw and glass mentioning it. Sadly I still had to sit through dinner as he and no 4 (his retired friend from Luton who was older and played golf everyday) regaled me with black conspiracy theories on our superiority.  I was too bored to debate.

Jamel didn’t fare much better. One was an ex the rest were neither future nor present potentials.  Bless, ladies crack a smile and don’t wear your desperation so openly. The evening ended with a 0% success rate. We waited for dessert and headed to a party where the eye candy was a lot sweeter and more relaxed. I think any event with the word DATING in the title is enough to turn the most normal of nights into a weird Apprentice style interview.  Best I stick to one on one dating me thinks.






  1. This story is tragic! You might as well stick a pin in the telephone directory (do they still make them?) Having said that, anything is better than going out with a Facebook friend! That is scraping the bottom of the deepest barrel; most women can probably see now that FB stands for “Fuck Bitches.”

    • Sadly I have done the facebook friend thing too….it’s a sad reality that I’ve done it all and still come up empty. And yes, they do still make phone directories. They are a bugger

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.