#fatgirlsguidetodating

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

Yeah, that’s gonna be a hard no from me. Aside from the fact he’s the same age as my parents I strongly suspect a man unable to spell vagina probably wouldn’t be able to find the clit, the g spot, hell the “vagana” itself. Like most men.

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

Insert eye roll here...

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

I do believe I have found my soulmate. Whilst Adam doesn’t realise it yet we are destined to be.

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

Blog: Bad Date tale 5. A date with a little extra.

NB: It's been awhile since I wrote a blog post but I really do want to get back into this. I had promised ages ago to write about some more of my bad dates as well as more of my guides what with this blog being called fatgirls guide to dating and all. So let me tell you all about this bad date. Though it’s testing my memory as it was awhile ago- like back in maybe 2016?- so I’m relying on messages to friends or my date sent at the time as well as my memory.]

Blog: Bad date tale 5. A date with a little extra.

Setting: Luna Park- an amuesement Park in Melbourne’s beachside St. Kilda.

Who: Zane. Late 30’s. Bit scruffy. Works in the music industry.

How I met them: He was Facebook friends with a good friend of mine and we often chatted on statuses on there before he sent me a message. After awhile he asked for my number, I gave it not really expecting him to bother with texting me but- clearly- he did.

What happened: We arranged to meet at Luna Park with thoughts of maybe finding a bar or something afterwards. I was about 5 mins early (something not common as I’m almost always late; I was born a few weeks late and have been late ever since). I wait 20 mins and am starting to wonder if I’ve gotten the day or something wrong (not outside the realm of possibility with me tbh) when he arrives. Except he isn’t alone.

With him is a young boy- I thought maybe 7, later told he was 9- who he is practically dragging and who looks incredibly sullen. “I’m so sorry, my ex had an emergency so I’ve got L today.” Zane tells me.

Until this moment I hadn’t even known L existed but I like kids and I’d honestly never met any kids who didn’t like me. “Hey L, I’m A, nice to meet you.” I say brightly. L just shrugged. Clearly the feeling wasn’t mutual here.

“So,” says Zane. “Who’s ready for some fun?”

He puts his hand up, I follow suit, we look at L but his hand remains stubbornly at his side. Oh boy. This is going to be a loooong day, I think.

We buy our tickets- it’s cheaper to buy the unlimited rides tickets if you intend to use quite a few rides rather than the single ride ones- and the teenager at the kiosk asks, “family ticket?”

Before either Zane or I can speak L says, “no!”

The teenager looks nonplussed but L elaborates anyway. “We’re *not* a family! My mum is part of it, not her.” He says gesturing to me.

Yep. This is really going to be a long arse day...

The ticket situation sorted we head inside.

“What’s your fave ride?” Zane asks me.

“Any ghost train type ones or roller coasters.” I respond. I look down at L. “How about you?”

He shrugs. “Most. I like dodgem cars.” He replies.

“You like the ghost train too.” Zane points out.

“Used to. It’s for babies now.” L says.

I wonder if I can go on the ghost train and some ghoul can kidnap me and get me away from this. But I’m determined to make the most of the situation. I’m not letting L, the 9 year old dictator, ruin a date I’d actually been looking forward to given my intense feelings about dates.

“But it’s fun to be scared.” I say.

“Only babies get scared on the ghost train.” L says.

Zane gives me an apologetic look, one that will become his default setting today. “Well let’s see.” Zane says.

So we go on the ghost train: Zane and L in front, me in the back. I must admit to being tempted to grab L throughout the ride to scare him but I don’t because I’m mature. I do stick my tongue out at the back of his head in the dark though. So maybe not *totally* mature then?

When we get off Zane asks, “that was fun wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” I say.

“No.” L says at the same time.

Zane gives me another apologetic look but I am determined still. At least, at this stage, I am. “So you said you like dodgem cars? Should we try them next?” I ask our little dictator.

“I guess.” L says. He is trying to look sullen or uninterested but it’s clear he does want that ride. Progress I naively think.

We get to the dodgem cars and it’s the same seating arrangement as the last (at this rate, I think a tad bitterly, I’m not going to get anywhere near my date) and as the little dictator looks at me I see an evil glint in his eye and I want to pull out of the ride because I don’t much fancy being chased around by the pint sized terrorist. But I’m not giving him the satisfaction.

So I get in my car and I wonder if it’s a little cruel/dramatic/immature for wanting to take the little bugger out? It’s not that I’m mad that there’s a kid on my date- I’m actually not- but rather that I’m fairly sure this kid is going to have people goose-stepping any moment.

There aren’t many others on the ride so I can’t even hide as L dictates where they go. “Get her!” He screams.

Get me they do. Though Zane doesn’t do it as hardcore as his little devil spawn wants as evidenced by his pouting and pointing out his dad “went easy on [her].”

L wants to go again and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been as relieved when Zane says not yet. Thank. Fuck.

“How about a roller coaster next?” Zane offers.

“I’m in.” I say.

“As long as it’s not that stupid baby one.” L says.

We wander over to the biggest roller coaster- the one that offers those great views of St Kilda and the bay and the city- to check if there are age/height restrictions. Sadly our favourite little dictator doesn’t quite make the grade and as a result throws what I can only describe as an epic tantrum.

“Are you sure we can’t go on? He’s so close to the minimum height,” Zane asks the bored looking worker.

“It’s minimum. That means he has to be that tall minimum.” The worker says slowly, like Zane’s an idiot.

“Sorry L, next time we come you’ll be tall enough.” Zane tells his son apologetically.

L isn’t placated at this.

“We could try the other ones.” I offer. I know, I know- it is mean of me given L’s hatred of the “stupid baby one” but what can I say, somehow this kid brings out my petty side. If only he was like 99% of kids who loved me and who I got along great with.

“No! I hate this! I don’t like her!” L wails loudly.

“Stay here a moment.” Zane tells his son and he leads me a few metres away.

“I’m really sorry A. I knew he didn’t take the breakup easily but I didn’t think he’d be this...rude.” He says quietly.

As it’s considered poor form to tell someone their kid is a total brat and you want to put him in the spinning tea-cups, up the speed exponentially until the g-force is high enough for the little dictator to pass out I say it’s okay.

“It’s not. Look I’ll understand if you want to call it a day. We could go do something another time. A child free time?” He offers.

I hesitate. I want to take him up on his offer and escape before L orders “off with (my) head. But I don’t want to wave the white flag and admit defeat. At least not just yet.

“Let’s try a couple more rides?” I offer.

Zane’s eyes light up. “For real?”

I confirm that I am, indeed, for real.

So we go back to L. We go on a few more rides but many of the ones L wants to try have height limits he doesn’t meet. So we decide on a new tack- the carnival games. Over an hour or so we fail to win all the big stuffed toys and instead what I’m kindly describing as “plastic junk”, all of which Zane and I carry.

“Listen mate, one more try only.” Zane tells his son.

Cue tanty.

But Zane stays strong. L tries the classic carnival game of the clowns but doesn’t get what he wants to win.

By this stage it’s getting a bit cool and rains threatening. “I know we were going to go to a bar or something but, well, you know...” Zane says.

“It’s cool.” I say.

“We could go get something to eat anyway?” Zane offers.

L doesn’t like this plan because he wants a hot dog from the amusement Park despite his father suggesting we’ve spent enough money and we can get cheaper and better food elsewhere.

I don’t like this plan because I’ve had my fill of L. (My friends later say that I managed the whole date even with L carrying on was worthy of the massive glass of wine I poured myself when I got home.) So we go our seperate ways, with plans to go for a drink another time. A child-free time.

Outcome: We actually do have another date. A pleasant child free date with alcohol. However we both agree the chemistry that we had via text and chats over the phone isn’t there in person. But, for once, there’s a somewhat happy ending. We remain friends. At least for awhile. But then he got back together with his ex- our mini Stalin L would have been delighted after seeing off at least 3 challengers that I knew of- and he dropped off the face of the earth. Happy Facebook photos replaced his quotes about children and fathers. A quick check of my Facebook friends list just now confirms he’s gone, but I don’t know when exactly this happened.

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

More dan Andrews tinder speak.

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

Decided to speak only as Dan Andrews on tinder today. (Yes I was bored.)

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

I’m genuinely without words...

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

Sighs....

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

This charmer popped up in my Facebook memories tonight. Unsurprisingly I didn’t take up his offer.

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

I’ve been toying with the idea of putting my latest blog post on hold and writing one on dating and COVID-19 so I’d been doing a bit of research and found this article kind of interesting.

[fatgirlsguidetodating]

Not sure if I ever posted this. I’d forgotten a lot of my dating site usernames or passwords but when I got my new phone they reappeared. Almost as if apple were saying “A, you must troll fuckboys.” This guy isn’t a fuckboy, granted, but a silly pickup line deserves a silly reply. And when they can’t have a bit of a joke it just makes me far more likely to continue it....