Trouble Seeks Similar

By Louise Priory

I jumped into online dating with the enthusiasm of a cat enjoying a sixteen hour nap. I had no idea what I was letting myself in for.

This is a true account of my dating adventures (some names including the author's have been changed).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Louise Priory
• Release date: May 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533701398

Book preview

Adam the kidney

Foster the People – Pumped Up Kicks

My very first date after four years of the barren wasteland of my life as a singleton is with Adam. He is unemployed and still recovering from a kidney transplant he had some years previously. I feel a little, but not greatly nervous. I already know that there will most likely be no follow-up date, but I need to get out there and get the ball rolling. It has been too long, and I am not sure I even remember how to talk to a man anymore, let alone anything else!

We arrange to meet up on the seafront; it’s a lovely park area overlooking the bay and the sea beyond. The meet point is the lighthouse. It sounds a romantic spot, but I am dubious anything of that nature will blossom this dull July afternoon.

He is sitting on a bench looking out to sea. As I approach I note that he has chosen to wear a shirt, possibly in a bid to look smart. It is too tight. He stands to meet me and it is apparent that he is decidedly plump. His profile photos are not representative of the man now standing before me. I sigh inwardly and decide to make the most of it.

We sit in a café overlooking the water and drink cappuccinos. The coffee is good, the conversation is OK. Adam suggests that we go for a walk along the seafront and I agree so as not to seem rude. He tells me all about the things he can no longer do following his transplant. It makes for a rather depressing conversation and does nothing to endear him to me.

At his suggestion we walk up to the top of the hill above the seafront; it is quite steep but not too far. He is so out of breath by the time we get to the top that he asks if we can sit on the bench for a while. I notice the sweat dripping down his face and feel a little queasy. He exhibits the fitness level of someone in his sixties, although in fact he’s twenty years younger. We make our way towards where his car is parked – in a disabled bay. I am irritated by this. In my opinion Adam is perfectly capable of walking from a non-disabled spot or even from his home, which is nearer than where I had parked my car. He certainly could do with the exercise. ‘Can I give you a lift to where your car is parked?’ he asks. I decline politely; I now just want to get away from him.

Unfortunately he insists on walking part way down with me to keep me company. But after about three minutes Adam realises he has walked far enough and bids me farewell. ‘Maybe we could try a phone call?’ he suggests.

The thought feels me with horror and I firmly say, ‘No, I’m not a phone person,’ which is actually the truth. I have such a short attention span that I cannot concentrate for any length of time on the phone, no matter how much I like the person at the other end of the line.

We finally part company and I walk the twenty minute journey back to my car. As I walk I reflect on the date. I am glad that I went, but feel guilty that I have used another human being just to test the dating water, and I hope that he doesn’t mind too much. Adam is a nice man but not for me; if I could get over the queasiness I would eat the poor beggar alive, whole.

The next day I receive a text from Adam asking me out again. I am as kind as I can be in my reply and state that I felt no attraction, but that I would be happy to meet as friends. He says ‘OK, I could always use new friends.’ I never hear from him again and his profile is gone from the website later that day, never to return.

Chien the Naval officer

The Wanted – Glad You Came

A couple of weeks after my meet with Adam I finally get a message from someone that interests me. His profile text is pretty standard, sensible, and for the most part with correct spelling and grammar. He has clearly read my profile and asks plenty of questions about me. His name is Chien; he is thirty-three years old, Vietnamese, five foot eight, childless, and a naval officer. After a few exchanges of long and probing messages he asks if I would like to meet up. I definitely would like to, and I give him my number.

I tell my mum about the next potential date; she is very excited at the prospect of me dating a naval officer. ‘You could get married here on the park,’ she speculates. I tell her to stop being so ridiculous – I have not even met him yet!

As Chien is on his summer break he is free during the week, so we arrange to meet on a wet Wednesday afternoon in late August at a local National Trust property. As I make the half hour journey by car I worry that I might be stood up – a completely irrational concern as I had confirmed the date only the day before. I park up and see that I have received a text from Chien; he is already here and waiting in the café.

I check the time to make sure that I’m not late; it’s twenty-five past twelve – perfect. I walk up to the café with my umbrella, wearing a jacket that I had borrowed from Mum in a panic. I spot Chien immediately, sitting just inside the entrance with a cup of coffee and a book. He jumps up as I walk in to greet me. ‘Hi,’ he says, ‘you look great’. It’s a good start to the date and he seems genuinely pleased that now he’s met me, in real life, I haven’t got two heads. He grabs me a cup of tea and we sit down to chat. We talk easily as we drink and then, stomachs rumbling, decide to walk down to a nearby pub for some lunch.

We order sandwiches and there is not a moment of awkwardness over lunch. I note that he looks very smart and he informs me that he even ironed his shirt for the occasion. I get the impression that he always looks smart and that he is always on time. I wonder to myself whether he irons his underwear or not. I excuse myself to visit the Ladies’, and when I return Chien has paid for lunch and I thank him.

A walk is suggested and we amble off round the grounds of the house; it is all very pleasant. We chat about why we have each joined the website and Chien says, ‘A couple of my friends have met their girlfriends on there. I would never pay to join a dating site as I’m not desperate, which is why I have joined a free one.’ I am not sure if I quite grasp his logic but say nothing.

After our walk Chien suggests extending the date and getting another cup of tea, to which I agree and I get us some drinks. Conversation turns to family past and present, becoming more serious as he talks about his father who passed away some years ago. We look at each other and there is a silent acknowledgment that this date has gone well and that we have had plenty to talk about. I suddenly wonder what the time is – it’s gone four o’clock; the afternoon has flown by. I feel a little guilty about having left my daughter with my parents for so many hours, and tell Chien that I have had a lovely time but that I really must go home.

Chien does the gentlemanly thing and walks me back to where my car is parked. He is most impressed by my orange Kia Picanto, or at least he pretends to be. ‘Your car is cool,’ he says. ‘Would you like to meet up again?’ I do want to meet up again and tell him so. He leans in and gives me a chaste peck on the lips; I note how full his lips are. They are a little scary.

As I make the drive home I nod to myself; it has been a good day. I am not sure that I fancy Chien but we have some mutual interests and I think there is potential, so I am willing to just see what might happen. As soon as I get back Mum says, ‘You’ve been gone ages! Did it go well then? What’s he like?’

It is not until the following morning that I receive a post-date text from Chien. ‘I had a great time yesterday, I tried to perform a sun dance but it didn’t work! Are you free on Sunday night for dinner?’ I am definitely free and feeling very pleased that we both want to meet again. I resist replying for an hour or so – it wouldn’t do to seem too keen. He asks me to choose the venue for dinner and I pick a nice restaurant in town. Chien books us a table and I am impressed by his organisational skills.

By the time Sunday comes round I have begun to have some doubts about the second date. I am worried that because I was not immediately sexually attracted to Chien I might never be. I try to put these thoughts to the back of my mind, and tell myself to make the most of going out to dinner with a nice young man and to enjoy the opportunity of putting on a pretty dress. It is lovely sunny evening and we meet at a bar on the harbour. Chien has claimed a table outside and already has a drink. He heads indoors to get me one as soon as I arrive. As I sit and wait for him I contemplate how the setting is spoiled by some nearby overflowing bins. Seagulls constantly wheel overhead, occasionally diving in to find some edible rubbish.

Chien returns with my soft drink and we make polite conversation. ‘I went to a navy pub and had five pints last night. I had to sleep in this morning,’ he says.

‘You went to the pub and drank five pints by yourself?’ I ask, surprised.

‘Yes, I know the barmaid though.’ Hmm, I think. I will never understand why someone would go out to drink alcohol alone. Chien sniffs the dustbin permeated air and announces that the smell of fish and chips is making him feel hungry. We get up and head over to the restaurant for our eight o’clock reservation.

The restaurant is virtually empty and the fact that we made a reservation feels slightly ridiculous, but never mind. We decide against starters and, looking at the prices, I plump for a simple pasta dish while Chien orders lamb. Our dishes arrive in good time and Chien’s dish is placed in front of him.

‘I thought this was to come with veg?’ he barks at the hapless waitress.

‘Yes, I’m just going to get them now. They come in a separate dish...’ she replies, and I admire her ability to remain polite despite the rudeness of my date. I feel embarrassed.

As our dinner date is coming to an end Chien asks if I would like to go on somewhere else for a drink. I have not enjoyed the entire date though, and feel like it is a good time for it to finish. ‘Ooh, well, I am feeling pretty tired now,’ I say. ‘I hope you don’t mind and don’t think it’s because I don’t want to... It’s just I think it’s time to go home.’

The bill arrives and Chien gets out a wad of notes to pay. I intervene and offer to pay my half. ‘Oh no,’ I say, ‘You don’t have to pay it all!’ I am met with stony silence; he retracts his wad of notes and replaces it with a payment card so we each contribute half. I certainly don’t expect that my dates should pay for everything; however, I am surprised that Chien didn’t put up more of a fight. He is a single man with a good job who asked me out to dinner. I am a single parent, currently on income support. I reason with myself that I am being too much of a princess and should overlook the uneasy feeling paying the bill gave me.

We walk back to my car and I offer Chien a lift home; he protests weakly but seems glad to hop in. It is not far to his block of flats. I park up outside. Chien thanks me for the lift and then leans in and murmurs, ‘Has anyone ever told you, you are beautiful? Because you are, beautiful...’

I manage a barely audible, ‘Thank you,’ before he kisses me. This has the benefit of suppressing the giggles that I can feel bubbling up and is also rather nice and soft. The thing is, I know that I’m not beautiful – attractive maybe, pretty on a good day. The compliment feels false, forced somehow.

‘Would you like to come upstairs?’ he whispers.

‘Er, no. Not this time,’ I say firmly. I am far from ready for anything more intimate. It is as if a switch has been flicked and Chien is immediately into business mode, giving me directions back to the main road so I can find my way home.

‘Are you free on Wednesday?’ he asks. ‘We could go for a drink in the evening.’

‘Yes, I think I should be able to make Wednesday evening. I’ll look forward to it.’ The kiss has completely changed the way that I feel about the evening. My first proper kiss in about four years; I had forgotten how nice it could be.

I spend the next few days looking forward to my third date with Chien. I get a nice ‘Hello’ text from him every day. To know that there is someone in the world who’s thinking about me enough to send me a daily text is a great boost, and I have to admit to feeling just a little bit special. However, as it is the third date I am also aware that in modern day dating there is a popular ‘third date rule’, where sex is expected. I’m not sure if I want this yet, but decide to go with an open mind. We have arranged to meet at a waterfront bar at eight o’clock. One thing I find I worry most about, going on a date, is where to park. Bizarrely, this concerns me more than whether my date will turn up or reject me on sight. I haven’t been to the bar I’m meeting Chien at before and I decide to park at what I think is a nearby public car park. Unfortunately it’s not as near as I had imagined and I end up five minutes late, and predictably windswept, at the pub.

It is deathly quiet with just a few other tables occupied. It soon becomes clear why it’s so empty when a pub quiz is announced. We are asked if we’d like to join but politely decline. It is a humid evening and Chien is sweating, regularly wiping his forehead. It is vaguely irritating but not too much to overly concern me. Conversation this evening seems to require a little more effort than previous meetings, as we have already covered the usual topics. But we still manage an evening of few silences and it is all very pleasant. ‘I don’t work on Fridays so perhaps we could go out for lunch sometimes?’ Chien says.

‘Yes, I’d like that,’ I reply, smiling. It feels good to be making plans with someone.

‘Would you like to come and see my ship one day? I could show you around, would that be a good date do you think?’

‘Yes, definitely, that would be something completely different and I’d love to see where you work!’ This seems to be going well; here is a very eligible bachelor, and he is interested in me. I cannot believe my luck.

‘The only thing is that I will be away for eight weeks from mid-October up until Christmas. But we can still make things work, if we Skype each other and keep in touch,’ he says.

It does bother me a bit that he will be going away so soon after we’ve met, but I accept that as part of his job he will often have to go away. Besides, I know that I will be starting my degree at the beginning of October so I will be fully occupied with getting to grips with being a full-time student again.

Before we know it, it is past eleven and the bar staff are clearing up. They send us a few meaningful looks and we eventually take the hint and head out. Since I have parked at what feels like the other side of the world Chien offers to give me a lift to my car. His car is pristine, inside and out, and he needlessly states that it could do with a clean! I hope that he didn’t notice how badly my car needed a clean the other night. It always needs a good clean, but I feel that there are far better things I could be doing with my time. We park up next to my car; the car park is dark and empty. Chien leans towards me. ‘Hmm?’ he says, ‘what did you say?’ and puts his ear near my mouth, thereby getting a full-on view of my cleavage.

‘Ha ha, I didn’t say anything. What are you doing?’ I say, knowing full well what he is doing, but I want to make him admit it.

‘I just wanted to get a closer look at your breasts!’ he says cheekily with not a hint of embarrassment; well, at least he’s honest. We kiss and things start to get a little heated, Chien’s hands wandering. My heart feels like it’s beating at a million miles an hour with excitement and just a little bit of fear. I eventually have to pull away when the limit of what I feel comfortable with in a public car park is reached. It is late and about time I went home. We arrange a daytime date for the upcoming bank holiday Monday and say our goodnights.

A few days later I am enjoying a late lunch with a couple of friends. They are all very excited that I am dating someone and want to know all the details. One of my friends had met her husband online some year previously. ‘Did you fancy him straight away?’ I ask her. You see, although I like Chien and he is certainly a good kisser, I am not very attracted to him. I wonder whether perhaps this is a slow burner and that the chemistry will develop. In any case, I am willing to give things a go; I have never particularly believed in love at first sight. Lust maybe, but never love. My friend tells me that yes she did fancy her husband straight away, this of course deepens my concerns.

Over the next few days I notice that Chien is no longer texting me daily, but I am not unduly worried and believe that things are just settling down into more established contact. I continue to look forward to our next date.

The day of my fourth date with Chien is hot and sunny with barely a cloud in the sky. I decide to make a bit of an effort and put on a green silk dress with long sleeves. It is a beautiful dress with a flattering fit. Chien is due to pick me up at twelve noon and I tell him to park in the car park by my home and call me when he arrives. Mobile phone service is rubbish in our little valley though, so instead of calling me he comes to the front door. I see him just in time and intercept him before he inadvertently meets my parents. Dad spots him from a distance and calls a ‘Hello’.

‘You look nice in your dress,’ he says. Chien is in casual clothes, jeans and a red T-shirt, and I feel slightly overdressed but no matter. We jump into his blue and very shiny VW and head to the coast. It is my turn to choose the venue and I direct him to a pub that sits right on the cliff top, overlooking the sea. It is such a lovely day it would be a shame to spend any of it indoors. We arrive in no time as Chien doesn’t seem to see the point in using the brakes installed in his car.

We choose a little table facing the sea and Chien heads indoors to the bar after asking what I would like to drink. I have requested a white wine spritzer with soda and I am looking forward to being able to have a proper drink for a change. Chien returns with our drinks and a couple of menus. ‘The drinks were very expensive,’ he says, and I immediately feel guilty for asking for a spritzer. We choose our lunch from the menu and Chien once again gord to the bar to order and pay, but I make sure that I have given him the money for my order. The food is slow to arrive so we chat pleasantly in the sunshine. We discover a mutual appreciation for films made in the eighties but to my feigned disgust, Chien has not seen National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. He suggests