Enter michealallthetime, a 31-year-old account manager for petrol giant Engen from Goodwood, on OkCupid.
Great start but Mister doesn’t even have a profile pic of himself, just a wide shot of the beach – red flag number 1.
Within two messages of not introducing himself as it were, he’s asking if he can be really honest and forward with me…
Since your momma wasn’t born yesterday, I could see that this was a prelude for being sexually inappropriate but to mess with this idiot, I was like “Sure, but how about you start by telling me your name?”
I swear it’s like giving a bull the go ahead with a red scarf, the way the Spaniards do in bullfights.
Off he goes with the name details and then hits me with:
“I’m in the mood to be super naughty. I’m looking for a girl for long term too but for now, I wanna get dirty.”
Sweet Mother of God… why, WHY did I seem to attract these horny fools?!
Fed up with the sheer audacity of some jackass who was too ashamed of being online to post a real profile pic but seemed to think it was perfectly OK to make me feel like a digital whore, I needed to school this fool and school him hard.
I channelled my inner Beyoncéand levelled his stupid ass with this:
“Look, Son, good on you that you want to be dirty and all but, as per my profile, I am a grown ass woman who dates. If that’s not your deal, and clearly since you’re hiding behind silly pics, it isn’t … get stepping right now.”
To the left, please, and stay there!
Brother man got the hint and there was radio silence forever after.
Kids, in the autumn of 2017 I was MORE than ready to treat myself to another dating pause because gods be damned, pickings for suitable men were drier than the Sahara.
Nightly chats with your Auntie Yoli reassured me that I wasn’t the only one experiencing this phenomenon but nevertheless, in the interest of educating and certainly entertaining you, here are two occassions when I became well acquainted with the ol’ block button:
Whilst watching your Spirit Brother take his well earned turn on the cosplaying stage at the FanCon masquerade, I was joined by what on the surface seemed like a cute photographer named Cole *** ( name changed to protect the idiot’s identity).
It started out with that most perfect of rom-coms lines: “Is this seat taken?”
I was sure that finally, FINALLY my luck had turned and your Spirit Mom was right, I was meeting my Superman at a comic book convention. Here was someone who took an interest in me, my geekiness and was quite keen to get to know me.
While Cole initially charmed me with how uber excited he was to be there and cooing over the cute kids dressed in costume, he quickly disgraced himself in my eyes.
Not only did he quickly fill me in on the politics of comic book convention photography and the perverts that take models’numbers and details to stalk them with, but he then kept yelling sexist and inappropriate cat calls at the Masquerade MC ( and I quote : “OMG, you’re so hot…DO ME already!).
I shit you not.
As I hurriedly whisked your Spirit Brother off the stage and away, Cole yelled out to me:
“Invite me on Facebook!”
Hells to the f*** no! BLOCKED!
Another month, another comic book doos who thinks he has superhero player powers…
With two busy months of magic PR and mountain socials ahead of me, I was adamant about taking a break from dating… then Mo*** (again, for his own safety, let’s give him a different identity) slid into my Instagram DMs, as the cool kids (obviously not me!) would say.
This too-cool-for-school jackass managed to get in a couple of half-assed messages asking about my TV series, movies and comic book interests before throwing the “Come and give me a back massage” line at me.
What the actual f***?
We, and I stress this again, were not having a sexual conversation of any nature.
In fact, he hadn’t even made any mention of trying to chat me up, up until this point. I thought we were just having a general “Hey, we’re comic book geeks together” conversation so where, in all of Krypton, did this idiot get the idea that I wanted to be his masseuse or call girl?
I want to say I blocked him after that but sadly, when I didn’t respond to his request, he sent me another message a few days later, asking me to come and nurse him back to health because he had the flu.
This, Guys and Girls , is my first forage in to the world of blogging about my life ’cause this shit is real and somebody has to hear about it…. The voices in my head can only do so much before they start turning on one another.
First and foremost, call me Lilu. It’s short and somewhat cute, just like me. Back in 2017, I’m a 31-year-old woman who has been single on and off for two years now and man, have I seen some M Nightshamalamadingdong crazy out there.
I’m not your typical single woman of what people discern as a “Certain Age”. Yeah, Bitch, it’s called 31 and although I don’t eat this fast food – the slogan fits ‘Mmm, I’m lovin it” cue Justin Timberlake intro…I wish.
And as always, I’ve gone off track. What I was trying to say is I’m not looking for a guy to marry, I’m looking for a partner.
I need a good relationship before I can think of marrying anyone because some of these men out there are like Freys at the Red Wedding…if you did not catch that…Child, you need to watch some Game of Thrones.
What I mean is I’m not desperate or constantly looking at who’s eligible.I don’t go out with the purpose to just meet a man so that I can have this Jerry McGuire-you-complete me-moment.
Don’t get me wrong :I was that for a hot minute. I believed this perfect moment would come and the sparks would fly and we would fly off to our castle on a magic carpet ride…. I dreamed of a Ferrari but got a Uno fire with a very good paint job.
After being in a long-term relationship where I thought I was happy and safe in this bubble of codependency and comfortable silence (in the wrong way I might add), I both revered and feared singledom.
I kind of knew I needed to get out but I was afraid to no longer have the label of girlfriend so I stayed in an unhappy and more importantly unhealthy relationship much longer than I should have. When I finally plucked up the courage and walked away it was the most terrifying thing I had ever done so far in my short life (no pun intended).
I went through every stage of grief you could go through because I lost a part of me that had always been there …well to me,anyway. I lost what I had come to know as home and all I could see was the loss of what was and not the potential of what could be……and oh.what potential turned out to be.
There have been tears, laughs, denials, super idiotic choices to please somebody because I wanted their approval. There have been friendships found and lost, family gained and what was shattered shards of myself put back together again.
Not in the way I was before, in a different kind of way, not better or worse just differently, stronger, better equipped to leave when a situation is bad and more confident to let someone know I like them when I do because ain’t nobody got time for high school yes , no and maybe games.
My stories are many, and the people in them a colorful array of crazy and fun, sometimes more Norman Bates-like crazy than I would like but hey, sometimes you gotta roll with the punches.
As I went through all of this and still go through the surprises that life brings me, there was one I was not ready for.
There is a difference between having life and living it and enjoying life and watching it pass you by. Once you start living it, there’s no going back..
Also…..why is Kale a thing like it’s nice and all but does it have to be everywhere??
Kids, for every horrible AF bad online date, there was that rare gem : a hot, smart, funny, geeky and easy-to-talk-to guy who made butterflies flutter in my tummy and turned me into a giggling idiot…
Such was the case with GreyBae, a good looking bachelor from Sea Point ,whom I started chatting to in the Autumn of 2017.
From the get go,we clicked – laughing at his silly profile moniker; chatting about our travels and discussing the importance of sibling relationships.
He took an active interest in what I did for a living and fun and shared stories about his cat. We seemed to like the same TV series and we were sharing what we were up to every day.
For the first time ever, I also really enjoyed letting the conversation take on a more sensual nature… while watching the animated Beauty and the Beast, GreyBae got me hot and bothered, by playing out an online role play of the two of us as Game of Thrones’s Khal Drogo and Khaleesi.
And just when I let my imagination run away with me, planning on how I was going to introduce him to my friends and family, the dates we’d have and the really, really hot role playing we were going to do in real life ( nudge, nudge, wink, wink!), my perfect online guy… deleted his f***ing account!
I wanted to kick and scream and throw a toddler-sized epic tantrum at the goddamned unfairness of it all. I’d finally “met” someone I could see a short-term future with and he upped and left!
There was no explanation for why he’s hightailed it. Like I said, we’ve ended our last conversation on a, uh, hard and satisfying note so I was fully expecting more of the same the day after.
But my dream guy was gone like the mist before the sun and I was once again left to fend off the crazies and stalkers of the online dating world.
Kids,every so often online news agencies and magazines picked up on my never-ending hilarious tales to you. In February 2017, your aunt Nadia convinced me to share some of my horror dating stories with her.
It is a universal fact of life that just when you think you have the hang of the adult thing , Life will bitch slap you and prove that just like Jon Snow, you know nothing!
See, in 2017, the month after my return from the Big Apple, adulting hit me hard …so hard in fact , that, I was pretty sure I’d be living off two minute Maggi noodles for the rest of the f***ing year and saying goodbye to my dreams of travelling.
In a week that can only be described as the ninth circle of Dante’s Inferno, I had the most f***ked seven days of bad online dating ( we’ll chat about that next time); home renovations where the builders left more damage than they fixed and the unpleasant news that I needed surgery that would cost me an arm and a leg.
Add to that the fact that I was locked out of my own apartment complex because the building managers changed the f***ing locks without telling anyone and every second person I met asking me to define my ethnicity and marital status and you can understand why all I was craving was a walk through Central Park.
I used to hate it when adults told me not to be so impatient to grow up… I now understood what they meant.
The icing on the proverbial cake, of course, was that this was all happening in the lead up to Valentine’s Day and I was feeling my singleton status all the more keenly.
I knew I was a strong independent woman but when faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles and an ever growing mountain of debt, I wished, just for a second, someone else would do the adulting for me and take the load off.
Kids, coming back from New York in January 2017 was a hard and difficult task but I was determined to live each day of the New Year with brazen boldness and that principle needed to be applied to my dating life too.
Only to meet WarAngel03 on OkCupid, who seemed to check out okay, from his profile. Like books,though, never judge a man by his online profile.
The conversation started out with the usual small talk – where we’re from, what we’re up to etc- when , of course he wanted to move onto WhatsApp.
Now, as I have mentioned before, I wasn’t keen on moving to a more personal platform immediately if the guy in question wasn’t a stimulating conversationalist or was going to bother me at all hours of the day with senseless texts. I had a sixth sense this dude was going to be one of the latter and I was in no mood for it.
But, I had promised myself and my poor, long-suffering mother, I wasn’t going to be mean or offhand with guys in 2017, so I playfully asked WarAngel03 to tell me more about himself and why he was worthy of getting my digits.
Here is what he responded with:
Needy much? I didn’t have time for a repeat of Mr Overeager 2 . Sweet as he seemed, this oversharing did not make for an attractive match. I mean, come on, do I fucking look like Dr Phil to you??!
“Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty! Was that as good for you as it was for me?” he asked, with a smirk.
Kids, this was the line I woke up to on a plane in Istanbul in November 2010, from the gorgeous guy whose personal space I had totally invaded during the long haul flight from Johannesburg.
To say I was mortified is an understatement!
Not only had I acquired a seat mate I had NO recollection of meeting, but apparently I’d been drooling all night on his very hunky shoulder. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was now staring into my flight seat bed head and wrinkled face… NOOOO!!!!
Definitely zero chance of me joining the mile high club then! Oh, just stop it with your “TMI, MOM!” nonsense!
As I prepared to jet off for my fourth international trip in 2016, I couldn’t help reflecting back on my guy on the plane and giggle. So many embarrassing but fun things happen when you have the courage to travel solo 😉
Kids, by the spring of 2016, I had been a novice runner for a year and a bit, competing in several racing events ,including the Old Mutual Two Oceans Marathon and the Gun Run.
I was having tons of fun blogging about my transformation from couch potato to relatively fit runner and to my surprise, running helped me get a new perspective on my love life (or lack thereof).
Here are five things running taught me about dating:
Just do it:
Procrastination might very well be my middle name because I was always putting off going for a run, in the same way I put off going on dates.
Whether I was hurriedly slipping into running trainers or high heeled boots, I always found that once I committed to the act of running or dating and actually did it, I felt much better afterwards.
To quote the most epic of philosophers, Nike:
No one runs and wins a half-marathon on their first go so what made me think I was going to meet The One immediately?
All good things come to those who train and dating was my training. I needed to give myself time and stick to a healthy regime of meeting new people at events I liked going to like Fan Con or Zombie Walk; online dating sites; parties; set-ups or speed dating hang-outs.
Being nervous is ok:
Man, did I get butterflies in my tummy before every run and date! My heart would race a mile a minute, my palms would be sweaty and I would be thinking “Why the f*** am I doing this?!” every five minutes in the lead-up to the big event.
Being nervous was ok, though, and helped me get excited about what lay ahead, both on the road and in love.
When you fall down, get back up:
Getting my heart broken or being stood up hurt every bit as much as falling flat on my ample sized butt on the road but if I could motivate myself to get back up and run again, I could get back out into the dating scene again too.
Sure, every WTF online dating pick-up line or extremely bad date made me want to run for the hills (ha-ha, pun totally intended!) but I managed to shake it off and bounce back stronger than before.
Having support is important:
Your Spirit Mom Leo was the one who set me on the path to running greatness by encouraging me to enter races, running some of them with me (and providing ample motivation in the form of naked Alexander Skarsgard, Matt Bomer and Henry Cavill photos …hee hee!) and providing a platform for me to document my progress with a monthly blog post.
A post shared by Leonie Mollentze (@leoniemollentze) on
Similarly, she and your Uncle Tendai listened to my crazy dating tales, tried setting me up on blind dates, were my wing people and told me some much needed motivational stories about their own love adventures.
No runner can do it alone and neither can a dater. House of Wyrd, you rock my world!
Running may not have had me quite on Whitney Houston’s path to love:
BUT it did get me out and about and on the road to happiness.
Kids, by 2016, I had had it with everyone from my grandmother to the guy at my local Spar poking their noses into my solo status and forcing their unsolicited opinions onto me about why it was that I was still single.
Here are 5 things I wish those people (smug marrieds, otherwise attached and even fellow singles too) would stop saying to singletons:
You’re too picky:
I’m going to let Madea take care of this one for me:
Let us be clear on one thing: I am NOT picky, I am selective – about who I spend time with and who I choose to be with. I am bloody amazing and I need my future partner to be of an equal standing to build a future with.
I will not settle for mediocre, boring AF men who have no ambition and interests, cannot support themselves or nurture and realise a family, just to make you feel better about me being single!
You’re just looking in all of the wrong places:
Oh, so that’s what I’ve been doing wrong all of this time?! Well, would you mind pointing me in the right direction there, Mr or Ms Know-It-All?
Because I am pretty sure I have looked f***ing EVERYWHERE – bars, bookstores, house parties, events, music concerts, meet-ups, blind dates, group hangouts, Tinder, OkCupid, Datingbuzz, speed dates, on international visits etc.
Every goddamn dating advice site or book tells singles to go to events and places that interest us and we’re bound to meet potential mates with similar interests.
Obviously I am the only comic book- reading, cosplaying, horror movie fanatic, musical-adoring, concert-going, pancake-addict, chocolate-devouring bookworm in the entire world or my soul mate lives on another planet.
Stop hating men so much:
Dear uneducated assholes …if you spent more than just five minutes of your sorry excuse of a life scrutinizing my singledom and how that reflects badly on you, you would see that I not only love men – I lust, crave, adore and want them in my life.
My undying, incurable, overwhelming desire to re-meet, mate with and marry this guy:
My frequent Beefcakes ‘visits, Magic Mike nights out and general flirting with everything that moves.
I may not always know when a guy is hitting on me but I sure as hell know how to put the moves on one when I feel like it. Like Christian Grey, my tastes in the opposite sex are very singular:
And for the love of the Seven, stop telling me that I might be a lesbian. I will admit that I tend to fall in love with a person’s heart and soul rather than their gender, but this blog isn’t called How I Met Your Father for nothing.
You’re still young – there is plenty of time to find The One:
I know it’s irrational but I feel as though I don’t have the time or the luxury of waiting for Mr Wonderful to show up – my eggs are expiring at an exponential rate.
Then again, Janet Jackson is having a baby at 50 so …ok, I’ll let this one slide.
Just stop looking and he will turn up:
Let me explain this in terms you’ll understand: you know that one handbag/car/house/clothing item/piece of jewellery etc you simply cannot live without and that you HAVE to find?
Yeah, that’s how we singles feel about our potential significant other.
Telling me to stop looking, wanting, searching for and dreaming about him, whoever he may be, is bloody torture. The more you tell me to quit looking, the more I am going to pretend to do just that but still secretly sign onto useless dating sites ,wonder if that cute guy at the café was just being nice or was really into me or imagine that my best male friend has been in love with me for forever.
Just stop giving me false hope that someday my Prince Charming is going to show up when I least expect it.