We are just loving all the guest blog contributions that are flying into our inbox. Your dating stories, good and bad, are hilarious! Keep them coming and we promise to post the best ones. Melissa made a bold move by plunging into the Spanish dating scene. Her experiences so far? A game of numbers so it would seem…
Having had no luck with British men, I was excited to move to Spain. They had to be better, didn’t they? Well, I have found it easy to meet people, or should I say, guys have made an effort to meet me- in the most random places and ways- from having my bum pinched in the street, to a guy getting out of a car and asking me on a date, saying he liked the look of me. The thing is, though, the meetings have come to nothing for one reason or another.
Ok, so the one who pinched my bum got a shock when I screamed, and he ran off. I thought it was odd that the other guy had driven by and stopped- I was wearing a hood, so he couldn’t really have seen what I looked like, could he? Anyway, didn’t give him my number.
But what of the guys I have exchanged numbers with?
The first seemed very romantic, showering me with compliments and telling me he thought he could fall in love again. After a couple of weeks, he confirmed he had fallen in love- just with someone else!
The second I met in a club, and he came to my rescue when my credit card got stolen and I couldn’t make myself understood over the phone. He invited me out and we went for tapas, then to a club. He paid everything and I thought it went well, until the end of the night when he said I will call you or you call me. It wasn’t quite a knock back but it felt like an insincere ‘I’ll call you’. Well, we did meet up again, and it was on our next date, I got my next number. What sort of a date was that, you may ask? Indeed! He picked me up and told me we were going out with some people he met on the internet. Location- an all-you-can eat Chinese buffet. It was when I was choosing my vegetables, that a tall, attractive guy came over and asked me if I was at the singles night.
‘I don’t know’ I replied.
‘Are you on one of the tables over there? ‘
‘Well, yes.’ I told him, somewhat surprised.
We chatted some and exchanged numbers- I mean, wouldn’t you after learning you were on a date like that?! From the restaurant, my date and I went to a club, accompanied by the guy I had exchanged numbers with (he invited himself). I didn’t know where to look or who to talk to, so plonked myself at the bar and worked my way through a few G n T’s until it was time to go home.
I never heard from my date again, but a few days later, the vegetable counter guy messaged me and invited me…..swimming! No way, I thought- not until the New Year’s resolutions have had time to make me bikini or at least swimsuit ready! I will wait and see if he responds to my suggestion of meeting for a drink, but will not hold my breath, I mean that would be far too normal a date, wouldn’t it?!
- Melissa Patient, Valencia
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