“The Knob”

I used to have to write blog posts at a previous job and we were told to just get them done, write them in approximately 30 minutes, don’t spend too much thought on them. I tend to write my blog posts on the move, on the tube and being that idiot who is walking along writing on their phone. Yes, that’s me. None of them require much thought, none of them deserve much. This one, in particular.

The Knob started out as “The Out of Towner”, I matched with him on Bumble somehow on the move between London and my parents. I’m not sure why I entertained it, it may have something to do with my occasional thoughts of moving out of London, it may also have been because of my thought “if he’s not from London, perhaps he won’t be an arsehole?” When you get to the end of this, arguably he is an even bigger arsehole.

We spoke on the phone before we met, he seemed alright. We were both hungover at the time and I was battling a cold. I didn’t think he had much chat, he did like to message me most days however I wasn’t too annoyed by it. It can be tough messaging someone you don’t actually know.

On our first date we met in Richmond for drinks, The Knob drove. I think I had two glasses of red wine as was getting over a cold, we chatted and he seemed really pleasant. In fact when I saw him, he was dare I say like Love Island 2017 – he was my type on paper. It’s good when someone looks like their photos.

We had a nice evening, we agreed to meet at the weekend to watch the rugby – I got drunk, The Knob drove. Dates 3 and 4 involved films/cooking at each other’s houses (though date 4 was when I took him to the cinema, I do not have a DVD player). I made an apple crumble, which he spotted me making and said “is that for later, I don’t like apple crumble”. I was put out, not amused, I think I was more in shock at how rude this was – don’t you just eat what someone has made you? Don’t you just eat the crumble if you don’t like apple. It’s mostly crumble. Also what real man does not like apple crumble? I should have known at this point but someone said “you can’t dump someone just because they don’t like apple crumble”. I wish I had, this would have all been funnier.

Date 5 was an afternoon walk (no pub, no dog and in my opinion not all that much to see, it wasn’t even a walk in a loop) and bowling (The Knob drove to bowling) – the promised meal out didn’t occur. It was all a bit cosy/comfy, we hadn’t really been out/got drunk together which are things I quite like doing and they do break down barriers. I should add here that things were not working. I say things, The Knob’s knob wasn’t working so well. I’m going to be frank because later you’ll hear how patient I was. Actually I was already being patient. The aubergine emoji was well overused on my whatsapp (not to him).

It was date 6 that I made him come to London… he’d got me an Easter egg and off we went to the Natural History Museum (he likes the Egyptians and I was trying to score brownie points) and we had our first meal out. We also went to Flight Club (great date place FYI and super fun for groups too). I basically organised three dates in one. The Knob had a fun time.

Date 7 was at his, and a Chinese buffet, our second meal out. I wasn’t sure if the banter was there to be honest – I’d thought this early on, but equally I was having a nice time spending time with him. And I have caught up with many a Marvel film.

I then went off on a hen do and then skiing, and saw some friends at a weekend so I think there was almost a three week gap in seeing each other. However, we messaged every day, I had even called him before I went skiing, and all my adventures in the run up to seeing him I did say to him that I had missed him a little bit (actually true) and was looking forward to seeing him (and this was reciprocated).

Date 8 was me going to his (in a town that basically is devoid of character I should add hence the Chinese buffet) and to a bar (after he’d cooked and we had watched a film of course). This bar was like the sort of student bar you’d go to to get the cheapest drinks served in plastic glasses; except it’s 2018 and I’m not a student. And I like to drink out of a glass glass most of the time.

Points to note below (things he said and did). These are in order – number 1 was not long after I arrived.

  1. “What are you doing on 19th May, I’m going to visit my friends and the invite extends to you.” I advised it is the royal wedding but said I could go.
  2. On walking through the town he said “I don’t take the piss out of where you come from” – I told him he could except he couldn’t remember where I come from.
  3. “I wish I’d met you 3 months earlier, you could have come on my family holiday. My parents would have paid for you.”
  4. “Why haven’t you told your parents about me?”
  5. “How much do you earn?” This one is interesting given he doesn’t work in London either. I said it’s all relative; he owns a home, has a car, I don’t have either. It now made sense that this was on his mind and explains the home cooking.
  6. He checked us in on Facebook.
  7. “Why are you dating me?”
  8. “You wanted to see me drunk.” He said this as he staggered home and I practically had to hold him up and again and again when he felt sick and before he fell asleep fully clothed with his head on the bed but knelt on the floor. I slept well for a few hours before The Knob’s knob actually worked. I look forward to reading this back when I am old.

Date 9, wasn’t so much a date, I had a meeting that way and went to his after – things were good I thought. We made a plan for the bank holiday weekend to spend two nights together and to go to the beach.

The Knob bailed late on Sunday. From out of nowhere given hours before he’d made a plan, and all was normal. I should point out I was at my parents, waiting for him to collect me and so I trundled back to London, not sure or convinced of his “feeling unwell”. I was not happy.

On Monday, I asked him to be honest. I may be a fool sometimes, I might stick things out longer than I should, but I definitely have a good instinct after time and time again of guys being arseholes. He ended it about 10 mins after I had asked, by text, and simply said it wasn’t working for him. It was blunt. No real reason. Certainly nothing I could do about it, I was even given a ‘take care’. And I am not going to beg. I replied with my shock, wish he’d told me sooner, and added ‘take care’.

But thanks for ruining my bank holiday weekend, one that was so sunny, I had been looking forward to the beach. Thanks for causing me to cry at my desk on Tuesday when I felt lonely and crap about myself for 30 minutes, and thanks for leading me on. Thanks for leaving me without any explanation. What a knob.

The Knob showed his true colours. It’s shocking how badly men handle things, how they struggle to communicate. I feel like I was tested.

A couple of friends have said ‘do you think it’s because you weren’t all that interested and he could tell’, but I did show interest and only two of those dates were in London – I made a lot of literal effort. I tried my best. I can be sarcastic, maybe he didn’t get my humour. He never paid me any compliments. He also did whinge quite a lot. I really tried to be perky and fun amongst my sarcasm and lack of interest in his home town.

Maybe it was because I earn more than him, maybe it was because of his knob, but we won’t know because he didn’t say and he isn’t worth any more of my brain power.

Things weren’t amazing but sometimes and someone said to me, don’t lose out on happiness if you’re not prepared to work for it. I felt I worked very hard, and oddly enough because even though he didn’t like apple crumble, I enjoyed spending time with him.

I think that I deserved more than the text I got. This was two months, I thought it was going somewhere. It should not have been by text but that would have been a horrid call.

However, I’ve pretty much written this in the space of my commute home, approximately 30-40 minutes, the allotted time and that’s precisely all the time he’s getting from me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s