I’ve struggled to start writing this, and part of me wasn’t going to. However some people say blog writing is therapeutic, I’ve hit backspace more times in this first paragraph than moving forwards, is that therapeutic?
I love skiing. I’ve said this (searched the blog to confirm, and it’s mentioned several times). Here is the tale of Ski Date.
I was on holiday skiing, I put Tinder back on my phone after a break. That break, was mentioned here. I was swiped, as you do, got a match, thought he looked familiar, couldn’t work out why. A bit of conversation later, we realise we take a similar commute (more on this later). We decide, a bit on a whim, to meet on the mountain. Activity date, tick. Skiing, tick. Can ski away if I hate him, tick. However, I thought, this has the components to be an epic tale, it’s the story of my dreams, meeting someone whilst skiing (sod the fact that Tinder has a part).
We ski, we stop to have two hot chocolates (one with rum and at my favourite drink stop), we ski some more – he tells me I look cool skiing – and then the weather turned. The snow/hail bleak afternoon hit. Of course me being kind and dare I say, a better skier, I escort him back to where he needs to be and we wanted to get drunk anyway. So it’s got nothing to do with me being kind. I was keeping him from hanging out with his fellow holiday makers who he’d had enough of for the week. It was the last day of the holiday for both of us. Plus, it’s a date, drinking helps and as it’s a ski date, apres ski is of course necessary.
Whilst chatting, we discover the last date I had, this one right here, the one I have already mentioned and the reason for my break in dating, was with someone he knew.
And whilst chatting (and drinking plenty), he somehow was looking through my phone. He found my WordPress app, therefore found my blog. “Why do you have WordPress?” I think my face just crumbled, I wasn’t prepared and I was mortified. I’ve often thought I would tell the right person about my blog – but I wasn’t in control of the situation, I hadn’t decided to tell!
He asked if he can read one post, he chose The Dickhead. Of all the posts that’s the one he picked, and he didn’t even finish it, just said “you shouldn’t be hanging out with people like that.”
I know that!
Anyway, mortification aside, we had fun and agree to meet back in London. We messaged quite a bit.
Two days later I then saw him at the tube on his way to work and I was on my way to work. I hid. I realise I now have another Dangerzone (The Dickhead is also in a Dangerzone near my office), and early morning to bump into him or anyone is too much. We had however made a loose plan to meet at the weekend.
The weekend happened. We had a nice time. The following weekend we hang out again. I thought we had a nice time, we even shared messages the next day about watching rugby and my tiny little bit of hope thought, maybe, just a tiny bit of maybe, this may somehow go somewhere. However, I should point out he really wasn’t all that warm in London. He was cold. He was warmer on the actual ski date. The signals weren’t really there, and that little bit of hope knew that really this was taking too long and going off piste.
By Thursday when I set a nice and jolly message checking in, I got a curt reply within minutes to say he was quite busy.
That was that.
It had the potential of being a great story, meeting on a ski slope, but the reality is the downhill was fast and it had literally no slopestyle whatsoever. I am mildly obsessed with the Winter Olympics instead.