Betty no dates

2011 so far has been very low down on the Betty dating stakes- I have basically not had a single glimmer of a date, it is now March, this is depressing.

My friends have been suggesting I re-visit the online dating world after I dismissed it so suddenly following my pasty date.

I did start to contemplate this option as partying and acting drunk/stupid busy London life seems to be getting in the way of meeting any potentials in the real world, apart from of course the lovely ‘Pants man’ and his award winning chat up line.

After much debate with myself I reluctantly logged into my account and read my first new message as below:

‘Even if it might feel a bit hard to talk to an unfamiliar guy.. who actually is kind inside, please surprise me Betty.. and drop me a line about how you are .. believe me it is at least as hard for me to start a conversation with someone who is only a bit more than a picture from the internet at the moment.. :) But I would like to know you a bit better.
Myself, I am looking for a human being in a female body! to have a chat and fun with. I think the reason behind this website is to have a nice time without force so let’s start with some light fun chat if you feel like, I would really appreciate it.
Where about in London do you live?’

I logged out.

Confirmed- Internet dating is not my bag.

I think I am going to give speed dating a bash.

Any other suggestions welcomed at this point.

Best chat up line ever- honest

This is a very short post which isn’t really a true post but i thought my readers and fellow blogger's would enjoy this snippet.

On Friday evening while patiently waiting to be served in a London pub I recevied THE best chat up line ever. A rather vertically challenged guy with a line shaved in his brow stated:

‘’Your eyes just made me come in my pants.’’

Definition of charmer. I was so overwhelmed all I could muster together to say was

‘‘Do you want a tissue?!’’

My love life is getting a tad depressing. Please help.

Betty and the Banker- Take 2

CONTINUED......(please read part 1)

Asked banker where he wanted to go he told me he had already pre planned where we would be heading for dinner- nice work organiser, I was impressed….until he led us through the town to the door of GBK. Now I am no snob or money grabber but I had a few issues with this plan:

1. The burgers are MASSIVE how on earth was I supposed to eat this with any kind of dignity? I had enough problems with the everyday knife and fork option with my wonky finger.

2. It is a restaurant that constantly makes an appearance on voucher codes

3. This guy earns a packet- his average bonus is more than I earn in a year and wasn’t shy in telling me (basically all he had spoken about the whole walk) why were we heading to an awkward to eat budget restaurant?!

4. I prefer Nandos

We sat down and after looking at all the tasty options I decided in order to best avoid obvious food spillage dramas I would have to opt for the vegetarian option- a giant mushroom pretending to be a burger- great.

He asked me what I wanted and after a slight look of disgust at my beverage choice of Savanna Dry he hot footed it to the counter where he proceeded to pull out a buy one get one free print out voucher- tight arse.

On return to the table banker continued with his money chat, finding himself hilarious with tales of his prediction of the credit crisis years ago and how he had actually benefited greatly from the downfall- really start to dislike this man and he had an ugly laugh with a sporadic snort.

Food arrived which instantly caused a huge pang of food envy- he had a burger piled with tasty treats, I had a big flat mushroom in bread. Take my anger out on the ketchup bottle which results in splash back on my lap-attractive.

Banker was now talking in detail of his second interest- Star Wars, this is beginning to turn into my absolute nightmare date, have a sneaky look around for hidden cameras, and unfortunately the conclusion is that this was in fact real.  

Following an extremely dull dinner with very little discussion on my part- I think I only spoke to let him know that he could tell me about the big bang theory if he wanted but I really wouldn’t listen, he went ahead and I true to my word zoned out, I did pre warn- we headed off to a bar. I was hoping that alcohol would maybe perk up this ridiculously dull/annoying situation.

After one drink we sat with empty glasses for an uncomfortable amount of time- I asked banker if we were having another drink or if he needed to get home. His response '‘Well I went to the bar and got the last drink so I really think it is your turn.'’ Holding my irritation I asked what he would like, his response ‘'a double JD and coke.’'

Now although I do believe in equality and do often offer to buy drinks on dates, this joker had been basically bragging about his earnings all night, surely I could at least be rewarded with a few drinks for listening to him bleat on? Also when he purchased the drinks he went for a budget pint of larger- what’s with the upgrade?

Most of my friends do tell me at this point I should have brought the two drinks, downed them both in front of him and then walked out without a word- I wish I had thought of this at the time.

Instead I stomp to the bar and remembering one of his rants from earlier on in the bar about girls drinking pints I opt for a pint of Hoegaarden which is served in a glass the size of my face, ask for his drink to be served in a small tumbler to make the impact even more effective.

Bang the huge glass down on the table and give Banker a sweet smile, he looked at me as though I had removed his carefully placed handkerchief and burnt it in front of his face (what I really wanted to do).

He drank down his drink in a record time of ten seconds not saying a word; I carefully slurped my giant beer holding it with two hands like a child with a beaker of milk. He no longer appeared to be talking, snorting or laughing- result.

Two seconds later he made his excuses and left me to my big beer, I called my best mate and we drank three more pints and a bottle of red wine- silver lining.

I refrained from contacting him again.

He did the same.

Not sure I will be dating a banker again

Betty and the Banker

Yesterday I was stumbling around The City of London (banker paradise) clutching Google map print outs, getting extremely lost trying to find venues to view for work.
In my polka dot coat, bright red shoes and crazy miss-matching scarf, I definitely did not fit into the suited and booted environment- I looked like a CBBC presenter on a scavenger hunt.

This episode took me right back to a date I had in my early days of London life when I agreed to go out with a banker, the experience I think contributed towards my allergy for them these days.

Here is the Betty B-esque tale:

I had always been a little wary of the whole banker idea being a general indie scruff that hangs out in Camden rather than Mayfair, but when I was asked out on a date within my first few weeks in London I thought I should go for it. It was my first date in the big city (and actual first date after a 4 year relationship), I needed to get back out on the scene plus rumour had it they earn a pretty hefty whack- not that I am materialistic but with the big move I was living like a student, a nice dinner would go down a right treat.

I first met the guy in question on a random night out in East London with new work colleagues; he just bowled over to us, brought us wine and asked for my business card- all new to me. It would seem pulling in the big smoke was altogether very different to the approach further North that I had been used to (usually involving bum gropes, bright coloured shots, unsubtle winks, thumbs up and high fives.)

On the evening of the date I met him at the train station ready and raring to take on the dating world idea, proud that I was already on a big date in the city- the London slightly clumsier version of Carrie Bradshaw, brilliant.

I instantly noticed that he was extremely suited up, shiny shoes, ironed shirt to the point of OCD standards and to top it off some kind of handkerchief in his top pocket (who owns handkerchiefs these days?!) Had a little look down at my appearance and was not entirely convinced he was going to dig the leopard print pumps and skinny jeans combo I had going on- I really should have run at this point…..

Textual Healing

So ladies, gentlemen, fellow bloggers and nosey friends, It would appear that I have managed to gain a target for the sex texting project 2011… it would also appear that I have absolutely no idea how to handle it.

I received a text message of the x-rated variety out of the blue late last night but instead of getting stuck in with a steamy response I was a tad shocked, humoured and embarrassed.

Now don’t get me wrong I am no prude and enjoy naughtiness as much as the next person but seriously how can you transfer this into characters, abbreviations and suggestive wink faces?!

It feels a completely impossible task to carry out without sounding like you are lifting lines from a bad porno or your Mum's Jackie Collins novel. Basically I admit it- I clearly have not mastered the language of text dirty talk.

When discovering this phenomenon it would seem even the coyest of my friends were freely embracing the textual intercourse and enjoying it along the way- why can I, as one of the louder varieties, not do the same?!

Do not fear I am not a quitter, I am determined to conquer my newly found fear and carry out this field research but any tips/advice/words of encouragement greatly appreciated.

I will be sure to report on any developments, do enjoy my embarrassing journey.

Dating memoirs of Betty B

My new year’s resolution to get back out there and up my dating game has fallen at the first hurdle- I have not partaken in a singular date or even mild flirtation all month- disappointing but I blame the January blues/slump- London and I are not ourselves right now.

During this slight glitch in my plans I have been looking back to when I did enjoy one nighters, dates, flings and (gasp) relationships and reflecting on how I achieved this.

And so I introduce you to- Pulling tips by Betty B: (take notes ladies*)

• Do pull up a bar stool nosily from one side of the pub to the other, put it next to you and rub the seat in a circular motion while staring at the victim, he will sit there and chat-eventually.

• Do introduce dance moves to your strategy, recommendations include the ‘doll’ dance- this involves placing your index finger onto the victims head and encouragingly voicing the word spin over and over until they respond, no matter how reluctant they enjoy it.

• If you have a plaster cast on your arm do use it to your full advantage- guys will be impressed if you consistently whack them on the head with it.

• Do ‘pretend’ to think they are of a homosexual nature and invite them to join you on a hunt for some men

• Do respond to a half naked picture message sent to you by your conquest with a picture of you leaping about in a banana suit.

• Do, after inviting your victim over, collapse in your front garden with your handbag spilt out everywhere after drinking blue aftershock for the first time- what man doesn’t want to rescue a damsel in distress? (please note this was a very early conquest- may no longer be applicable)

• Do impress them at the after party of a boozy wedding with the concept of ‘kettle beer’ when there is no alcohol available at back at the accommodation. To carry this out simply remove the standard kettle from the hotel room and lean over the closed hotel bar to fill the kettle to the brim- winner.

• Do ask them if they can touch their toes and then proceed to prove that you can.

* Disclaimer- although the above tips did in fact work I do not hold any responsibility for potential failures but will take credit for success stories

From Hawaii to South London

I just wanted to quickly share a very amusing story that occurred this weekend as I think you may enjoy and it is too funny to not make a blog entry.

Saturday night I went to a good friend’s fancy dress party, the night was a Hawaiian theme and we enjoyed boozing from coconuts, splashing about in paddling pools and jiving to tin drum sound affects- brilliant.

I was obviously being my usual inept self and concentrating more on acting like a drunken buffoon than trying out the whole pulling concept (something that I need to change if I am ever going to get a sex texting victim). I did however actively encourage my friend (dressed as Hawaiian Barbie) to get with one of the camouflage boys that were dancing around the palm trees.

Victory occurred and they headed off into the night to go back to her house in South West London- always like to help out a friend.

Disaster struck for the newly found lovers though on return to the house when Barbie realised she had left her bag at the party- in north west London- error.

Now most people would have reluctantly either headed back to the party or checked into a nearby hotel but this girl is definitely not ‘most people.’ Instead she convinced army boy to jump over the fence and check out the garden with her as her dog was in the house and he would get lonely(?!)

And so ladies and gents after much debate Barbie and Action man had their romantic time on a Christmas tree box in a garden shed under a picnic blanket surrounded by a full range of gardening equipment- epic.

Now this in itself is amusing enough but early in the morning action man made his excuses and made a get away back to North London (can we really blame him?). Barbie decided that enough was enough, she couldn’t face shed life solo and with the aid of paint pot smashed the back window and crawled through into the house greeted by her lonely dog.

A few hours passed and Barbie had a realisation that she did not want to foot the bill of said window and so in a quick wave of genius she called the police thinking she would simply get a crime reference number to give to the landlord- job done.

The reality-two police officers with forensics to take finger prints etc rocking up to fully investigate the matter. Now it is worth mentioning that Action man was in fact a very wealthy city banker with a PHD, not really someone to go round breaking into houses, yet clearly his finger prints will be all over the gaff.

Barbie was truly terrified when the police pointed to two surveillance cameras on the wall behind the house that clearly face onto the garden and announced they would check the footage as they were almost certain to have picked up the crime scene. I really do want to be there when they sit and down and witness Hawaiian Barbie in a pink grass skirt bash down a window with a dulux pot. – only my friends.