Too MEN-y?

Clearly, it has been established that I’m a serial dater showing absolutely no signs of slowing down and learning to crochet. My stove is purely for excess handbags and recently I had a revolving door fitted in my flat. Last week I had three dates. So what’s the problem?

The problem is simple: I met someone who I actually kinda, sorta like. A tiny teeny, eeny, weeny bit. Hey! That’s big for me, ok?

Ghosts, ESP, and UFOs – I believe. Vampires, tax-cuts and The One – I want to believe. But, I just can’t seem to do it. Once upon a continent ago, I used to believe in Fate. Now I believe in Mate. And, not in the Crocodile Dundee way.

 

What blows me away is how “illogical” my Mr. Tunisia is:

1. Doesn’t speak English. Well, he does a bit. And his French is better than mine. So, we communicate in Franglais – when we speak at all! French and Arabic in bed is just the cherry on top …
2. Works in a restaurant. My motto has always been “Tip yes, bed no.” Now I can happily eat my words! Quite literally: he is a chef and has actually delivered me a whole fish dinner. No tip required
3. Doesn’t like condoms. The first night I brought him home, I kicked him out for trying to convince me that a condom wasn’t necessary. I have never kicked someone out in French before, nor have I ever met a man who knows how to apologise so eloquently the following day with a gift-wrapped pack of condoms and a big hug. In fact, I have never met a man who knows how to apologise. Period.

But, let’s get to the nice things about Mr.T. Come to think about it … those are all really nice things! So why the hell is he with an argumentative snob who dominates all the conversations and eats all the food??

Usually I want an academic asshole. Now I’ve found a Nice Guy. Accordingly, I tell myself that I’m not going to stop playing the field because 1) that was never agreed upon 2) I don’t want a boyfriend 3) when this all goes belly up (which it always does) I’ll be glad I never really liked him. Not even a tiny bit.

So, I hit the dating scene, find a couple “logical” people, feel bored and opt for some wine and a drunk text to Mr. T. “Oh I just got back from hanging out in the gay village with some hot women” doesn’t seem like a reasonable answer. “Just hanging with the girls” is better.

So why am I acting like Dr. Spock and Mr. Hyde when all I want is a hot body who is nice to me?

A chat with Dr. Z, one of my favourite single and fabulous friends, has led to the professional conclusion that “You Liiike him.”

No I don’t. I have simply narrowed down my entertainment choices to 1) Mr.T 2) Mr.Teacher and 3)Mr.This Isn’t My Real Name. Well, contrary to popular belief I don’t have all day. Running around on time-wasting dates has shown that I need to exercise time management and work SMART. So, basically, to make time for myself I simply have cut back. Maybe this is my way of liking someone? Does anyone else see a red flag?