I think the universe is trying to tell me to stop dating – but where’s the fun in that?
We’ve got to laugh or we’ll cry, right? I’m 23 years of age, had two failed relationships, and a handful of eventful dates. There is only one way to look back on all this and it’s to write a self-deprecating article that will hopefully cheer people up and give them something to relate to. I’m at an age where I can laugh at myself and I’m more than happy to share humorous stories with people. And I’m about to do it again.
During my first year of university, shortly after my first ever breakup, I decided to get back out there and invite a boy over to my flat. We’d been talking for a while and got on really well so thought I’d give it a shot. I went for a couple of drinks with the girls beforehand to calm my nerves but turns out I had nothing to worry about. When this guy turned up he was a lot more intoxicated than I was. He could barely speak, falling all over the place, and it was clear we had different expectations for this evening. We started kissing and it’s safe to say it wasn’t the best I’ve ever had. I’m certain this was because he was drunk but it was all teeth and tongue and I couldn’t even navigate it. He eventually needed some water and as soon as I handed it to him, he tipped it all over my bed then tried to continue. Let’s just say I got the ick, told him I wasn’t over my ex, and asked him politely to leave. The start of my university love life was only the beginning of the funny dating stories I have to tell.
During my second year, I had my first Tinder hook-up. I was nervous but excited to see what this was all about. When he came over we spoke with my housemates who gave him the green light and we shared a spliff and had some fun as expected. After he left the next day it didn’t take me long to figure out I’d had my first ever UTI, resulting in me taking antibiotics for three days. I never saw him again. I wasn’t in any rush to go on another Tinder date after this – and I didn’t for a while.
I went on a last minute holiday with my best friend and her family to Crete and we had a great time. I met a tall, dark, Italian boy who was the entertainment rep for our hotel and it was my first holiday romance. We had a great week together. On the last night we decided to go back to his room only to discover he shared this with a few members of staff from that same hotel. We barely had any privacy and people were walking in and out all night. After nearly doing the deed on multiple occasions, we both decided the moment had passed and we just laid there, staring at the ceiling until sunrise so I could go back to my room and he could go to work. It clicked when I was chomping away at the breakfast buffet that numerous members of staff were looking at me, smiling, realising I was one of the entertainment rep’s conquests and my friend and I sat around the table quietly sniggering, her family having no recollection of the week’s events.
Next up was a boy from my hometown who came up to visit me a couple of times. The first time we had a lot of fun – it was near perfect. Which is why I’d asked him to come up again, but something was off. It wasn’t long before he tried doing things without foreplay and I couldn’t believe my eyes and panic-ran to my friends room, explaining the situation and I didn’t want to continue. My friend came up with an amazing excuse; I’d vomited all over the bathroom and couldn’t continue with the evening. He left that night and I haven’t seen him since. Always start with foreplay everybody.
My second relationship came to an end, so back on the horse I went, searching on Tinder for another date. The boy I’d been chatting to was perfect and I couldn’t wait. We met at a local pub and I was shocked to discover when this boy opened his mouth he sounded familiar. I realised he sounded like the infamous Chris Eubank – this date was going to be fun. I didn’t think it could get more interesting until we realised there was a funeral wake at the pub but we decided to sit in the beer garden and chain smoke anyway. An hour in, the funeral wake attendees started spilling outside, very drunk, and may as well have been on my date with me. A sudden case of the ick kicked in and we hugged before heading in different directions. I – wait for it – never spoke to him again, either.
Finally, it was around Christmas time and I was bored at home so decided to scroll through tinder. I found another nice guy to talk to and agreed to go on a date with him but then I got drunk on my birthday and plans changed. He came to pick me up from a night out I was on – with my mother. She literally took me to the car to make sure he was ‘legit’ and I’m pretty sure he would’ve preferred staying to chat with her. We ended up having sex at a Premier Inn after buying a bottle of Baileys in Tesco and my family took me for breakfast at the exact same place the next day, waving him goodbye as he drove off. In his defence, I thoroughly enjoyed that evening, it was the dates that followed that I had another burst of the ick and realised this person wasn’t for me.
So maybe I should start listening to what the universe is trying to tell me, but where’s the fun in that?
Kaiya Simon
Featured image courtesy of René Ranisch on Unsplash. Image license can be found here. No changes were made to the image.