Date #6 Big, Tall and Hirsute English Guy

Date #6 Big, Tall and Hirsute English Guy

So I met BT&H in Covent Garden. It was a lunch time date. I hate lunch dates. They’re so intrinsically unromantic. Also, I feel weird drinking alcohol when the sun is up. Not that it was sunny today here in London, but I have this thing about drinking in the afternoon – unless you’re at a ball game it is SO not okay.

BT&H was a nice guy. That’s really all I can say about him. He’s in his 40’s. He earns about 3 times more than me. He isn’t gorgeous, but he isn’t ugly either. Generally, he was so middle of the road in everything. He seemed reliable, honest and dependable. He had all the qualities I look for in a Refrigerator!

I don’t know if there was that chemistry there. I could tell that he liked me. He kept saying how beautiful I am. He kept remarking that he’s surprised that a girl like me “hasn’t been snatched up already.” Of course, I’m taking this all with a grain of salt because maybe he’s saying all this just to get into my pants. Who knows?

I liked him, but he didn’t seem to have that X-factor. The conversation flowed easily. I kept wondering, if I were in a serious relationship with him, would that make me MOR?

I am willing, however, to give him another shot.

Date #5 My Cute Bald Englishman

Date #5 My Cute Bald Englishman

Finally, I’ve been asked out by someone English! Maybe English guys just aren’t attracted to me? I don’t know. I don’t at all mind being asked out by other nationalities, but it does seem weird that I live in England and this is my first English guy since I’ve started this internet dating thing.

I met my Bald Eagle at a pub down the road from where I work. He was charming, warm, funny and a damn nice guy. We both share a passion for the gym. The three hours we spent together felt like 3 minutes. I know that’s so cliché, but that’s how it felt.

There was definite chemistry there. Probably not as much chemistry as the Australian guy, but I also had a lot less to drink this time around. We left the pub after our third drink. We kissed just outside of the tube station. His lips were soft, tender and I felt good in thinking that he’s the sort of guy I’d like to kiss again.