About rsvp online dating
About rsvp online dating
Rsvp Dating Site In Australia – Online Dating Sites Rsvp Dating Site In Australia Free online dating and matchmaking service for singles. I know this is an unfathomable concept, but it’s happened. If you’ve read a few of the posts my dating cohort, Bridget Jones on Crack, and I have written, you’ve probably picked up a bit of a theme.
Unlike my dear friend, Bridget, it’s taken a long time for me to step out from behind the computer screen, but last week I did it. More than once I stopped to catch my breath, before realising I’d told him what I was wearing.Overall, I’d say I was pretty chuffed with my choice. Not ideal when there’s not much to crow about in the first place.He was a really, really nice guy and someone I’d really like to get to know more. The only thing I had going in my favour was that we made it to last drinks.Surely, he would’ve sucked down his drink and proclaimed, “Sh*t! Doesn’t that mean, then, that a second chance is warranted?I left my washing on the line and it looks like rain. Everyone deserves a little slack on the first date, don’t they?Well, while I’ve been clinging to the hope that I’d ticked enough boxes to qualify for the next round, I feel I must report this is unlikely to be the case.
Whilst we’ve exchanged a number of friendly text messages since that evening, there’s a politeness about them that can’t be ignored. I’d say I’ve got another few days of incessantly checking my phone for messages, but that’s OK.
Getting the chance to meet someone who reaffirms your belief that nice guys are out there was more than worth it.
What if our paths crossed en route to the pub and he realised the loser hyperventilating on the sidewalk, with no hint of an incline in sight, was his date? One of his profile photos was of him running an ultra-marathon, after all, while the other was of him standing victorious on a mountain top (after some monumental trek, no doubt). I’d spend my evening sitting in a pub for an hour sipping a lemon, lime and bitters on my own, before the toothless local tasked with propping up the bar would finally take pity on me and come over for a natter. Instead, I walked into the pub, with an expression of terror on my face that drew curious stares from almost every table, and went straight to the bar.
I ordered my non-alcoholic beverage and, instead of handing money to the barmaid calmly like I normally would, my shaking hands threw coins all over the counter like I was feeding a brood of chickens. I went for the closest one I could find and made myself at home by putting my bag on the chair next to me, then on the floor, then back on the chair, then, finally, on the floor again in a way that made it impossible to stand up gracefully without getting tangled in straps (I only discovered this after he arrived). He arrived, kissed me hello on the cheek (nice), checked I had a drink before ordering himself one (even better) and then sat down.
I’ll spare you the details, but suffice to say he was a really lovely guy and he looked exactly as his profile predicted he would – no outlandish exaggerations of height, weight or age at all.
There were a handful of awkward moments in the couple of hours we spent together, but nothing insurmountable, I thought, given we’d never even spoken before now. To be fair to my self-esteem, there were a couple of moments of brilliance, but they were deftly hidden behind blocks of awkwardness, verbal stumblings and – this is the cringe-worthy part – an uncontrollable need to demonstrate my athletic prowess as a way of proving our compatibility.