Girrllll, take a seat, grab a glass of wine (or a very large cup of tea), and get comfortable. We need to have a little chat.
If you read my last dating disasters post you’ll know I survived the clumsy dates, the Wetherspoons pints, and the ultimate ghosting finales. Well, I thought I’d bravely put myself back out on the dating scene recently, ready for a fresh start. Did I make it to a date? Absolutely not. I didn't even make it out of the talking stage, but honestly? The universe spared me.
Let me set the scene.
Chapter 1: The Tinder Match, The Hospital, and a Plot Twist Ending
Enter: Guy 1. We match on Tinder, and I’m not even going to lie, we clicked straight away. Good banter, great energy. After a day of talking, we swap numbers and move over to WhatsApp. We are chatting non-stop. We try to arrange a date, but life gets in the way. I’m super busy, he’s super busy, so we tentatively pin it for the week commencing July 27th.
Spoiler alert: we didn't make it to the 27th.
After about a week and a half of constant talking, Guy 1 suddenly goes radio silent. Super distant and quiet for two days. Honestly, fine, we’re only in the talking stage, people have lives. Then, he messages me to apologise, he’s been visiting someone in the hospital for the last 48 hours, it's a "complicated situation."
My gut knew. My gut immediately whispered, "This is about an ex."
And girrrllllllll... I was right. Are you ready for this? Because I promise you, you aren't.
That "complicated situation"? She had just given birth to his son... four weeks early.
Now, being me, I tried to find the silver lining. I'm sitting there thinking, Well, his son and my little man will only be 10 months apart, that’ll be lovely! (You know, in some alternate universe where things actually worked out). He was super thankful that I was so understanding about the whole chaotic baby arrival.
Except, the plot thickens. Somewhere during our chats, we had added each other on Facebook and Instagram. Suddenly, out of nowhere, his profiles vanish. Now, I am no stalker, but what made me look was the fact that his WhatsApp profile picture kept changing. One minute a pic, the next minute nothing. I figured I was blocked, so I checked social media to confirm. Sure enough, poof. Gone.
He just stops responding entirely. And look, I am no double texter or desperate chaser. If a guy is going to be blunt or weird, I match his energy. I was a little sad because we genuinely vibed so well, but I let that fish swim right back into the sea and moved on with my life.
Or so I thought.
Fast forward to recently. I get a message from the ex. The one who just had his baby. She is desperate to know how him and I met, what happened between us, and makes sure to let me know she's "not mad at me."
When was this sent? 3:54 AM. When does my son wake me up? 6:00 AM.
I see the message, reply at 6:20 AM, and at 6:21 AM on Instagram, she is calling me. I am sleep-deprived, holding my son, and by this point, I have my own questions because the story Guy 1 had fed me about her was only half true.
She tells me they had split up or gone on a break for 10 days, and in that exact window, he joined Tinder. She had no idea he was on Tinder. In fact, he had apparently lied to her and told her we met on Facebook.
So I told her: "No, darling! Tindaaahhhhhh! He superliked me, I swiped back, we matched!"
And then she drops the grand finale. You ready for this? She found out about me because she saw a screenshot of our conversation in ChatGPT because he was apparently too drunk to reply back to me himself.
I repeat: ChatGPT.
She tells me he’s an alcoholic and that he told her I was just a "rebound." Honestly? HAHAHAHA. We actually ended up having a surprisingly friendly little chat, wished each other well, and told each other to take care. And that was the end of that absolute rollercoaster.
Chapter 2: The Needy Midnight Video-Caller (And Why Calendars Are Apparently Terrifying)
Just when I thought the universe had exhausted its supply of dating absurdities, enter: Guy 2.
Now, let me be fair, Guy 2 actually seemed like a lovely bloke at first. We vibed so well, and his banter had me genuinely laughing out loud. Good energy, great laughs. But then things took a sharp, exhausting turn.
Suddenly, the messages went from fun and flirty to full on dirty, morning, noon, and night. It was just too much, too fast. Anyone who knows me knows I can be a bit socially awkward, and I like to ease into things. But he was treating the talking stage like an Olympic sport that required 24/7 participation.
Then came the late night video calls.
I’d be exhausted, managing life, and my phone would ring. I answered one night, thinking it was normal, only for him to spend the call mocking my laugh and cracking jokes. At one point, he casually mentioned having a few other women hanging out in his flat. Now, look I’m a chill person, and I can see the funny side of things, but when you're trying to impress someone you haven't even met yet, bragging about a flat full of women while simultaneously making fun of how I laugh gets old real fast.
Let’s also bear in mind: we were still in the talking stage.
Guy 2 knew full well that I am a single mum to a busy little boy while running two businesses. My life is a carefully orchestrated balancing act. Yet, he expected a play-by-play response every single second of every minute, as if I was just sitting by my phone waiting for his royal decree.
The pressure hit a fever pitch when the topic of going on an actual date came up.
Every time he asked when I was free, my very reasonable response was: "Let me check my calendar and get back to you, I just need to sort childcare" (because, hello, single mum!). But to him, a date was apparently a demand that required an immediate, on-the-spot confirmation.
When he asked me over a video call and I gave him my standard "let me check my calendar" response, he snapped.
"If you don't want to go on a date with me, that's fine, I just need to know if I'm wasting my time because I want kids..."
...Excuse me?!
We haven’t even shared a cup of coffee in public yet, and you're throwing a tantrum because a mother-of-one needs to look at a calendar?! It felt so desperate, so needy, and honestly exhausting.
Boy, bye.
Chapter 3: The Petrol Station Ghost, and the "Bare Minimum" Hypocrisy
Just when you think you’ve seen it all, enter: Guy 3.
Now, Guy 3 and I actually had history. I had known him for a few years because I used to serve him back when I worked at the petrol station. Years later, we magically match on Tinder. And honestly? We vibed really well. We’re talking two hour phone call here, an hour and a half phone call there. It felt easy, comfortable, and nostalgic.
Until real life collided with the virtual world.
By complete coincidence, we happened to be at the exact same place at the exact same time. My little man had just turned 11 months old, and I had planned a sweet little park breakfast picnic, just the two of us. As it turned out, Guy 3 was right there at the park with his son too.
Now, because I used to serve this man his petrol and we’d been chatting on the phone for hours, it would have been excruciatingly awkward to just walk right past him and pretend he didn't exist. Plus, hello, social anxiety! So I sent a casual message saying I was literally walking right past him on my way home and asked if I could stop by for literally five minutes just to say hi.
Spoiler alert: Clearly, he didn't like what he saw.
Let’s be real here, I wasn't a mum the last time we saw each other years ago. Bodies change, life changes. But the second that 5-minute park cameo happened? We went from constant, non-stop messaging to ABSOLUTE SILENCE.
The odd hello here and there but... nothing!
Now, I am not one to chase anyone or sit around wondering what went wrong. So, I sent a mature, breezy message: Look, it is totally okay to lose interest, but thanks for the laughs!
His response? Oh, you’re going to love this.
He messages back insisting that no, no, he is still interested, he’s just "so busy."
Right. Sure you are, babe.
And the absolute cherry on top of this clown sundae? I went back and looked at his Tinder bio. What did it say in glaring text?
"Bare minimum shouldn't be asked for."
Hilarious. Truly, award-winning comedy. Because last time I checked, basic human communication and treating someone with respect were right at the top of that "bare minimum" list!
The Takeaway
From ChatGPT screenshotters and calendar-phobic midnight callers to petrol station ghosts preaching about the bare minimum, the talking stage is truly nature's way of testing our patience.
If a man can't text you back, handles a quick 5-minute park wave like a deer in headlights, or expects you to worship the ground he walks on while offering zero effort in return, let him walk.
Give me my son, my cup of tea (or glass of wine), and my peace every single day of the week.
Have you ever run into a talking stage match in public only for them to vanish into thin air? Drop your stories in the comments below!
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