The Dating Chronicles Part 1: Too Sassy For My Own Good

BY CHARLOTTE LIGHTBODY

At the expense of my dignity, I hope you enjoy the compilation of failures and I hope you never repeat them.

Rectangle 39.png

9 NOV - 2021

It’s high time that Aunt Cindy lifts her cockblock spell so we can make love like we used to.

In light of this incredible news of Auckland’s lockdown easing and allowing for outdoor group excursions, I thought it would be more relatable than ever to rejig your memory of what dating was like in the pre-pandemic era.

It’s high time that Aunt Cindy lifts her cockblock spell so we can make love like we used to. But don’t get too excited. After watching films in lieu of real-life romance for the past few months, it would be wise to recall that IRL dating is bloody hard. Dating apps are not what they used to be 6 years ago and reflecting back on my dating history in 2018/2019, it seems there were more misses than hits.

At the expense of my dignity, I hope you enjoy the compilation of failures and I hope you never repeat them.

*Names have changed for privacy reasons.

Rectangle 25.png

Rectangle 38.png

Rectangle 25.png

Too Sassy For My Own Good

I met James* on Tinder and we immediately started chatting about all sorts of fun things, but mostly about how he thought New Zealand was expensive and later, that everything, in general, was too expensive. *eye roll*

He asked me where to buy ugly Christmas sweaters and I told him to visit an op shop - to which he mentioned that op shops here in NZ were expensive as well. *More eye rolling*

We agreed to meet up at a bar in Kingsland for our first date, and I’m not sure why. I already didn’t like his terrible chat and probably knew subconsciously that he wouldn’t be anything special.

Lo and behold, my gut instincts were right. They usually are but I always like to give people a chance to redeem themselves face to face. Absolutely nothing about him was memorable to me, so much so, that the part that stuck with me was how I prematurely rejected his kiss. And oh, how I made an ass out of u and me.

He walked me to my car after we had our last drink. As we wandered over the bridge and went down the steps to my car, I was fretting madly and hoping dearly that he wouldn’t dare try to hold my hand.

As we got nearer and nearer to my car, I realised how much I didn’t like him. I mean, he was an okay guy but when you’re stuck in these kinds of situations, the lack of attraction shows itself in the mind as dislike.

Once we arrived at my car, we awkwardly looked at each other and I lent in for a hug. Let’s keep this as platonic as possible. I hoped that he got my message. He kissed my cheek and then went in for a proper mouth kiss, or so I thought.

I instantly recoiled and took a very large step back. I proceeded to put my hands up like a stop sign and said, “I’m not pashing you.” This, so far, would have been fine. I would’ve been able to live with myself without cringing every time I thought of this.

But no, I just HAD to make a sassy comment with bodily movements to support my words. Imagine yourself saying, “You’ve got to work for the goods,” accompanied with a BODY ROLL.

He chuckled and said, “I was just going to kiss you goodnight, but all good” followed by more nervous laughter and me saying, “I’ll see you later” or something similar. I wish the Kingsland asphalt could have swallowed me up whole at that point.

I got in my car and hung my head on my steering wheel for a few minutes thinking about my exceptional body roll and sheer vanity... I sped off into the night and kept thinking about how I would never be able to face this guy. I coaxed myself into thinking it was because of my lack of interest in him, but really, I was just too mortified to communicate with him and revisit that moment.

I know ghosting is a major dick move and I’m not proud of it at all, but I just had to ghost the poor guy and I still feel super stink about it. Sorry, James* from Canada.

Please Don’t Hold My Hand

Ohhhh David*… you were such an odd man. He worked in the construction industry and looked absolutely nothing like his Tinder photos. Great start.

I wish we had never met up because he turned up to our date wearing construction boots and I couldn’t stop feeling so shallow about that. Is it me or is it him? I know I’m gaslighting him - but I REALLY hated how he made me feel so shallow about his goddamn boots!

Anyway, we couldn’t find seats initially so we chatted out on the balcony before moving inside to a table where we ordered two pizzas and a couple more drinks. I paid for the meal because I was feeling rich and also felt this compelling urge to be like, “Yes, I can afford this WHOLE date”. I also just wanted to pay and get my ass out of there, but he felt the need to walk me to my car - which was parked at my office 15 minutes away.

I realise there’s a recurring theme here. I remember thinking two things:

1. If he tries to hold my hand, I’ll run.
2. I don't want him to try to kiss me because he desperately needs lip balm.
3. Oh god, I'm a terrible human being.

We got to my work, and he leaned in for a hug, which was fine. He then kissed me on the cheek and looked at me for way too long without saying a word. And then he broke the psychopathic silence by asking me to go for a dog walk on Sunday.

“Maybe!” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.” I did actually speak to him later but it was to tell him I wasn’t super keen on seeing him again. I felt bad, but I couldn’t ghost ol’ mate David after vowing to not ghost anyone again after James*.

Karma Sure Is A Bitch

Matthew* or Matt, as his Bumble profile mentioned… he was a right piece of shit, but damn he was hot. The things we excuse for a good looking guy, hey?

We were messaging non-stop for 5 days, back and forth, him telling me all the deliciously naughty things that he wanted to do to me. But we didn’t even get close to an orgasm, did we?

He decided to ghost me on a Friday and never message me back. I felt so emotionally drained because he had been so lovely all week and I thought for a split second that there might be hope on dating apps.

Despite the fact that I am well aware that everyone on dating apps are talking to multiple people at the same time, the feelings of rejection came crashing down around me when I didn’t get a Whatsapp reply and found out he had unmatched me on Bumble. The nerve!

It probably didn’t help that I had an intense therapy session the Thursday night beforehand, so I was already feeling incredibly vulnerable and emotionally fragile. His ghosting move was the cherry on top of a fuck you sundae and I reckon it was probably karma biting me in the ass.

I marvel at how ghosting has become so normalised in modern society. You really can do the most damage by saying nothing at all. Again, I’m so very sorry, James*.

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

Sometimes, No Dick Is Better Than Dick

Oh, Travis.* He was... interesting. Very good looking, beautiful dick but so arrogant and overly cocky. It was a bit off-putting, to be honest, but I dealt with it because I was thinking with my horny vagina and wanted him for one thing only.

I liked that we were super honest and upfront about what we were on dating apps for - casual sex - and that we both had no intentions of getting caught up with one another. We were seeing each other for about 4 weeks. I had been to his house and met his flatmates.

But he was Ashton Kutcher and I, Natalie Portman, in ‘No Strings Attached.’ He caught the darn feels for me, hadn’t he. It’s because I’m amazing but I really didn’t think he would fall for me after our oral contract, so to speak. And his cockiness! But of course, we’ve all read enough self-help books and white-washed spirituality memes to know that his arrogance is to mask the insecurities within.

He started wanting to hang out, hold hands (you should know by now that I deem holding hands to be far more intimate than sex itself), watch movies, go for walks… you know, couple activities.

I freaked out and messaged him saying that I wasn’t feeling it anymore and wished him all the best. You see, sometimes, no dick is better than dick. I later saw him in a different city a few months later and feigned bad hearing when he called my name.

Is this worse than ghosting? I don’t know. But I just had to protect my boundaries. Can’t have wee Travis falling head over heels for me again. Sorry, Trav. I hope you find a Charlotte 2.0 who likes to hold hands.

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

Image credit: (Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.), Felix Gonzalez-Torres, 1991).

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

6d5b79696bd52fa264a733f30d5b73c4 1.png

RELATED STORIES

Rectangle 29.png

 

GIVEAWAY

Indie_Axiology Giveaway-min.jpg

GIVEAWAY

Axiology

This month, we’ve teamed up with Indie Beauty to give away an Axiology Beauty set of 2 Lipsticks, 2 Balmies, and an Axiology Make-up Bag worth $158. Putting 'Bunnies before Profits,' Axiology is made with organic botanical oils and butter to keep your skin hydrated and nourished.

Sign up to our e-newsletter to be in the chance to win!