Date #11- Cornish Steve

17435896_10158394310910597_2662910822831645881_oSo I failed at 24 dates before 35. It seems that getting a date- and by date I mean meeting a man for a drink or food and a chat rather than just a hook up- is harder than you might think.


I seem to have acquired many whatapp penfriends who simply seem to just chat but mention the D word and they freak out.


Or, I have had plenty of offers of booty calls- usually with around 25 mins notice and at 11pm at night- from horny 20somethings.


However, the date remains elusive and rare and I have to stalk it like David Bellamy in the undergrowth ( this reference will be lost to many!)


Yet I shall persist. I have met enough people who have found loves of their lives through this impersonal and judgmental app- in fact I have been to two weddings and met two tinder babies- so there is hope and light at the end of the tunnel- or its just a reflection of my torch on a dustbin lid at the end of a dead end street- who knows!


So my 35th birthday was spent with my nearest and dearest friends in the beautiful St Ives. It was the first birthday in 3 years where I did not cry over he who shall not be named- so progress was made.


I did also set up a date- with Cornish Steve. Again this is a reference lost on many but essentially he was a guy who looked like another guy I nearly dated called Steve- except this one lived in cornwall and wasn’t called Steve- look it made sense at the time ok!


So Cornish Steve was beautiful. Tanned, bright eyed and bushy tailed and a surfer. He grew up in St Ives, my favourite place in the world and ran a BnB – bonus, free accommodation anyone??


However, he was a slippery fellow. He wanted to meet when my friends were about so putting sisters before misters- yeah I can’t pull the finger wag off- I turned him down and suggest we meet a couple of days later when I would be on my own.


The time came and I called up the date- but he declined, too hungover allegedly. So we postponed to another day- which never came. The texts continued but Cornish Steve was no where to be seen.


To check he was real my friend who joined me later in the week did the obvious thing- we stalked him. Come on don’t judge you all know you would do it.


We knew he worked in a bar so we conveniently passed the bar walking the dog to spot him- once again I refer to the David Bellamy likeness!! To put this sorry state of affairs- this consisted of two 30somethings who should know better, walking past a bar, peering in and then when he looked our way shrieking and running off. We could only hope he had no idea!

You would think this may be why he didn’t wish to meet but he didn’t seem to have put two and two together- I can only assume he couldn’t imagine a 35 year old would act in such a way and we must have been other childish tourists.


So my birthday came and my friend left early so there was time for a coffee before I left. He had agreed the previous night to meet, admitting he had been a wuss to not meet up before.


So I waited and wait….and waited. No text came, then when it did, no suggestion of a meet was mentioned. Not wanting to look any more of a plonker than I already had I took the hint and left. No date.


Since then we have whatsapped nearly every day- because, as it seems most men are on these sites, he is too scared to turn me from text to real life person.


So the quest continues…


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