<*dv_3*>Internet dating. No longer with stigma attached. Mmmm. I'll grant you that it may no longer attract instant ridicule, even might be considered almost trendy.. but only amongst those poor sad saps (self included) that use it.
<*dv_0*> "Oh, it's only a laugh" I say, "don't ever really plan to meet anyone." (that *false* subtitle in the Budweiser ad appears) .. "just like having a pen-pal"
Yeah, right.
<*dv_1*> Where shall I go first? The collection of nutters, desperate needy people, outright swingers and assorted pervs (and these are just the ones I've met!), or the self delusion, the pathetic pretence that it's not the only way you have left to meet somebody who isn't part of your smugly satisfied group of thirty something friends all happily (!?!) ensconced in their couple dominated world. Well, seeing as I'm on a roll, let's start there shall we? It's like putting a hyperactive child on Ritelin. Happy vibrant people that used to go out on a Saturday night and talk to people, you know, actually interact with other human beings, are suddenly cuddling up in front of Pop Idol! Bloody Pop Idol! I really didn't think anything could make me cringe more than "My Hero". WHY? Why would you do it? Why does anyone watch it? It's has all the morbid fascination of a multiple fatality road accident! But I digress. Its not the fact that you're not welcomed into this saccharine lifestyle, it's the barely disguised pity that's generously bestowed upon you. And that's before you foolishly admit that you've arranged a date with somebody you met on the net. The reactions range from the warmly patronizing "Gosh, that's brave" to the disdainful "Isn't that just a little bit desperate, old chum? Just got your best interests at heart of course." So now I've got to remember the lie I told about how I came to meet her - "met her through work" (well, I was on the office computer!), is the vaguest and the best. Which, in the best radio DJ tradition, leads me neatly on to the meet.
I could describe the pretty young girl (look, at my age 29 is young!) I met in Piccadilly Circus.
"I don't mean to be rude" she said, "but you're very, errrr, big!"
<*dv_5*> "Ah" says I, "you'll not have read the first three lines of my profile wherein I admit to being a very cuddly 19 stone and you probably thought that my user name [Fatbstard] was ironic?"
<*dv_4*> Or the enormous girl (OK, she did describe herself as cuddly but I wasn't expecting somebody heavier than me!) who took the fact that I didn't leave after one drink and actually had a conversation with her as a clear sign that I wanted to pursue an intimate physical relationship, to which end she proceeded to send me many and various texts imploring me to perform assorted sordid and demeaning sexual acts upon her person.
No, I'll stick to the girl with whom I had the most in common, rugby. She was a rugby groupie. She actually fancied big chunky, cuddly forwards. We had shared experiences (like going to Twickenham, and the fact there have been occasions that I could also say I'd been royally fucked by an ugly prop forward, only with me it had been metaphorical) and we got on great. Well, at about 5.00 am, much drinking, dancing and coy flirting later, I finally suggested that she should either call me cab or take me to bed. Happily, to bed we went. I wont go into sordid detail, but suffice to say that at a very key moment, the front door slammed. No, not the avenging husband, "It's my landlady, she's back early from her holiday" - she was a lodger, "she warned me that if I brought home another strange man [I'd seen a picture of the last one, he was!] she'd throw me out!" There followed much teenage whispering and hiding under the covers until dragon woman (actually I never met her, she might be very nice) got to sleep and I padded downstairs, out the door and down the driveway in my stocking feet. Of course, the thing most likely to wake the sleeping beast was my giggling fit, which I could barely control, but I got away safely. Unfortunately my rugby groupie never replied to either of my subsequent messages (maybe she hadn't thought it was funny), so I don't whether she got away as cleanly as I did. Well, she was a bit strange anyway. To paraphrase Groucho Marks, who'd want to go out with a girl that fancied big fat ugly front row forwards anyway?
Submitted by Fatbstard
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