Dating App Story #4
The Plumber
It started off well. Some good banter. He seemed nice. Kind. Well travelled. Interesting. A Carlton supporter (can live with that). Father of three adult children. Divorced. 54 (Age appropriate - never a bad thing)
All very standard stuff on the apps. Things get off to a good start.
Then the innuendo starts.
For fuck's sake, I've not met you. I'm not interested. The easiest way to turn me off is start with the double entendres too quickly. One or two, fine, but nah... sorry. I'm in my mid-fifties - I'm not here for a quick shag - not that there's anything wrong with that - it's just not for me.
We've been chatting for a few days now. He's been getting insistent about meeting.
Not a red flag, but an eyebrow raiser. He was nice enough to not contact me over the weekend when I was something akin to a zombie.
The double entendres continued tonight.
"What are you up to?" his text asked.
"On the couch with my knitting and the cat." Well, I was. My brain is fried tonight.
"Hmmm, pussy."
Like what are you? Fourteen?
"Yes. My pussy is called Lucifer and is rather antisocial."
"Oh, I like a dirty pussy."
I don't need this. It's not what I'm after.
And maybe it's me being over-sensitive. Don't ask me when was the last time I cuddled up to somebody watching telly on the couch. Or when I walked hand in hand with somebody. And don't ask about kissing... anything intimate like that. It's been a long time. I don't want to be railroaded. I'm not desperate.
"Can I come and see you."
"Hard pass. No."
No address details, other than I live in Richmond, have been given. No surnames provided.
He then calls. He admits to having just had a bong. He's stoned. Barely coherent. Unable to string a sentence together.
So, yeah. Nope. Next.
Blocked on the app. I will give home the courtesy of sending the 'I'm not interested in taking this further. Good luck in your search," text tomorrow before blocking his number.
It's important to treat people how you wish to be treated yourself, and closure is a good thing.
Too many red flags with this one. And I have far too much self-respect and a decent set of boundaries to let this Captain Chaos into my life. Underneath, I do think he's a nice man. He's just not for me.
There must be a nice, age appropriate, reasonably sober, articulate bloke out there who likes the theatre and galleries and nice things and wants a friend, not a shag.
We live in hope.
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