I haven’t spelt this wrong. It all started with talking about cheese (it was Bumble and I needed an opener, he gave it to me in his profile with his penchant for cheese) – this has happened before in the ‘case’ of the Dickhead who I will not blog about because that was a series of poor judgements on my part for longer than necessary and already this is enough words on the matter.

Anyway, Cheese-Bored and I had about a week and a bit of back and forth of some funny messages and anecdotes though come date-day I think I had decided he was a bit odd (Cheese-Bored was reading a maths book for fun (link if you’re interested), had messaged me about the vernal equinox and he always seemed to not be up to much each day). However things can be misconstrued in writing so on the first day of spring, off I went with a spring in my step.

We met at the tube, it wasn’t an ideal meeting point. FYI, he was short. Story of my life it seems (though on the blog there is probably only The Big Man and Titchski as examples). I thought to myself I’ll go with it given Cheese-Bored was quite smartly dressed and had a plan of where to go, he could be ok. Though already I was disappointed. Again. We then walked past my housemate – ha.

We were going to a little French place for wine and cheese. It was a quirky little place, and eventually we got a table for the much discussed cheese board. It was one of those places with plenty to look at, good job really.

The actual cheese-board meant I could focus on the yummy cheese. I was bored. Cheese-Bored was one of these old-man storytellers, telling tales of how beautiful some restaurant is and how good the food is and who had told him to go there. He also told me that Wellington (because there was a painting of Napoleon on the wall) invented seamless socks so people didn’t get bruises – think he was trying to be Factoid but not getting his facts right. Throughout this I was thinking, try and give this guy the benefit of doubt but I could not shake it off. Doubt Taylor Swift would either. 

We finished the cheese and decided to leave. I noticed Cheese-Bored was in a waistcoat and whilst walking back to the tube I complimented his smart shoes. We walked past a shop selling Sherlock Holmes inspired attire, I think he wanted to be him. Not one compliment for me all evening I thought to myself.

Cheese-Bored and I said goodbye. I went home with more wine and dry roasted peanuts to watch Made in Chelsea which was a better end to the evening.

Thank you to my pal for the code name and also for this, which just about sums it all up:

Also, after the date, Cheese-Bored unmatched me on Bumble quicker than it took to scoff the cheese!

“Factoid” – part two

I met Factoid a couple of weeks ago, I think it was on a Thursday, and boldly by maybe Sunday I think it was, I asked whether he wanted to do something again sometime. Putting myself out there. Go me. You have to when you get time wasters like The Kiwi.

Factoid said the coming week was busy, so how about the following one. Cue a little victory dance (a smirk and me being happy more like).

Eventually the week in question arrived. It is a long time to maintain momentum in the dating stratosphere. Arguably if a date is good you’re likely to see that person soon after or make the arrangements quickly.

Not so much with Factoid. He was a bit slow on the comms front (I am an avid comms WhatsApperer), but he’d had a visit to the hospital – an infection in his arm from a spider he thinks, I was to learn this when on the date.

Anyhow, we arranged to meet at a pub half way between where we both work. We hadn’t messaged that much between the dates, so we caught up on what we had been up to, Factoid kept making me laugh with his anecdotal tales and facts.

He told me about a terrible film called The Stud that he was aiming to get home for and also because he had meetings the next day. He’d told me about the meetings before he met me. (Hindsight and my slowly diminishing patience makes me think he was playing his get out card early, but then why bother meeting me). I told him about an equally rubbish film called The Room that gets shown at The Prince Charles Cinema. Great chats all round. Turns out his film choice wasn’t on, he stuck out the date a little longer perhaps.

We decided we should get some food, but weren’t really helping each other make any food decisions, so ended up in Subway. Whilst that may not be a date destination to some, I was happy in having a Subway, it did the job! He said we’d go for a proper dinner next time. It turns out I have meetings at his office next week, he suggested coffee (he was almost definitely joking).

We went for a bit of a wander and for cocktails afterwards, it was all very jolly but he really did mean it about an early night (which actually suited me fine) so we had a bit of a kiss at the tube and it was home time. He said we’d do something again soon.

But now I haven’t heard from him… which is borderline rude, weird and all the dating logic I don’t understand in between – leading me to the conclusion he is a fool and I’m not going to get any more facts. The end.