So, unlike most of my dating blogs this one doesn’t start with an app. Instead, this ‘not so happy’ love story begins on a train. I was travelling back from London when like all commuters, I was searching for a seat where I would have as least contact as possible with other antisocial commuters. Unfortunately, as I was on the rush hour train, my choices were limited and I ended up on a full four-seater table. Sitting down, I got straight into my emails (okay Facebook) only to be interrupted by a load of rubbish falling on me. Looking up, I was all set to give the typically passive aggressive Alana evil, when I realised the rubbish had come from the hot guy sitting opposite me. My frown soon turned into fluttering eyelashes as he apologised for getting rubbish on me as he cleared the seat for the passenger next to him.
I then spent the next hour trying to get his attention, attempting to look incredibly sophisticated and hot as I checked my emails and phone…unsurprisingly, this didn’t work and I’d just about given up, when we pulled into Haslemere and my lovely, and oh so loud friend, got on the train. In a typically non discreet form, he shouted my name across the aisle and spent the next two stops talking so loudly that literally everyone was staring at us (including hot train guy!) After annoying pretty much all of the passengers, my very loud friend got off , but not before he asked me if I was still living in ‘little old Southsea’ – you’d think was outer Mongolia or somewhere. Cue hot train guy saying he lived in Southsea too! This then led to a lovely little conversation where we shared our favourite things about the city, where we liked to drink and just generally how amazing it was. Unfortunately however, despite living in Southsea, hot train guy got off at Fratton without asking me for my number…so I decided to write him off as just a rare polite person who actually liked to chat on the train. That was until my birthday two weeks later when I made a trip to Southsea’s best sushi restaurant, Sakura.
It was here, when I was sitting on a table with my lovely parents, sisters and brothers in law , to my shock and delight, hot train guy entered the restaurant. He then came over to my table and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek! It would have been amazing if like I said I wasn’t on a table with my incredibly inquisitive and slightly intoxicated family. This of course made the whole social situation very awkward and again to my disappointment despite some very positive chat, I left without his number. Luckily , all hope was not lost this time as I did manage to get his name. I then went into full on 21st century stalker mode, searching Facebook, Instagram and LinkedIn for him… all to no avail. I’d just about given up hope when on one lazy Thursday evening I was having a little look on Bumble (basically Tinder for guys who are too shy to send the first message) when hot guy train popped up! Matching, I instantly got a rush of butterflies as I nervously awaited his message. Thankfully he quickly replied and asked me out for a drink at my favourite bar in Southsea, the Wine Vaults.
On the day of the date, I got ready and I literally couldn’t remember being that excited about anything (expect maybe when I queued to get my first tamagotchi) Everything was going so well too, as not only did he text me to confirm the date but he arrived early – two very big plusses on an Alana date. I however was running slightly late as I had decided to wear my ever so cute, but ever so uncomfy wedges – not great for walking speedily. When I finally arrived at the Wine Vaults, my excitement did take a bit of a nock when I saw hot train guy again. After two months of searching ,he didn’t look quite as hot as the guy I remembered, not helped by the fact he was for some reason standing awkwardly by the fruit machine instead of the bar or a table. But, I’d waited long enough for this date, so I wasn’t going to let a little thing like his position in the bar or his level of hotness put me off. I greeted him and thanked him for the drink. Sadly though, his chat wasn’t as great as I remembered either, with him starting the date effectively giving me a pitch for his business and talking about how great he was at his job…feeling a bit like I was on an episode of the Apprentice, I decided to move the date upstairs to the sofas. This was in the vain hope that he would relax more if we were sitting down and he’d feel less of a need to talk me through his C.V. and sales achievements. Unfortunately, upstairs things went from salesy to sleezy, not helped by the staff at the Wine Vaults telling hot train guy that I was often in their bar with different guys – what happened to professional confidentiality?
Two drinks down, I decided that being the lightweight I am I’d better move on to coke for drink number three. This didn’t go down well with hot train guy, who questioned my drink choice and saying he had hoped to have a ‘big one’ tonight. Not fancying a ‘Kevin and Perry go large’ style evening I drank my third drink very quickly and said I think I’d like to call it a night. Hot train guy didn’t feel the same though and decided to continue his date alone in the Wine Vaults. Walking home I was pleased the bad date was finally over…or so I thought. Hot train guy obviously felt there was more awkward chat to be had as he went on to text me asking me why I left. Trying to be polite I lied and said it had been a fun evening but I was just tired. Not satisfied by this response he went on to message me again saying everyone in the bar thought I’d ‘binned him off’, no reply from me he then tried phoning me before messaging me again asking if I wanted a Dominos…he eventually took the hint, or got distracted with his pizza and I didn’t hear from him again until the next morning when he invited me to the Southsea Bandstand. Now I know this is the point where any sane person would ignore the message. However, I really wanted to go to the Bandstand and I thought MAYBE it was just a serious case of first date nerves…as you’ve probably guessed already, it wasn’t and the cute bandstand date I had hoped for resulted in him psycho analysing why I go on so many dates, saying I was stuck up and finally asking if I was dirty in the bedroom.
I came away from this dating experience learning two things… 1.bad dates aren’t exclusive to Tinder. 2. I really need to stop going to the Wine Vaults.