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So my darlings; it’s been a while, no? I hope your festivities were simply marvelous!

I have ventured back into the world of internet dating. After the disaster that was resurrecting an old relationship, and realising exactly why it failed the first time (in much the same way as a brick realises why it’s a bad idea to be thrown at a pane of glass), I decided to, how shall we say, examine my options…

The good news, dear reader, is that half the world seems to be seeking a companion on the wonder that is the t’interwebs. The bad news is that most of half of the world wants a quick fling, a diversion from his wife, a quicky, or something much more dark and sinister.

Let me explain:

1. Mr Chat-Up Line

I have no words for this experience. He simply sent me an initial message:

I’m no photographer, but I can picture you and me together. lol.

And that was the end of that.

2. Mr Charming Copper

Slightly too old, but polite, attentive, and gentlemanly. Sufficiently so that we did actually make it as far as a first date. Now my darlings, I know that you know that I know men well enough by now to not be easily fooled. However, the charming copper was an expert in his art. He phoned regularly, we shared interests, and we had a very nice first date. Only ever-so slightly marred by my dropping the contents of my handbag on the doorstep when he drove me home. But, gentlemanly as he was, he stood on the pavement as I scrabbled in the dark, shouting “are you ok? do you want a torch?”.

I was impressed by the success of our night out. When he got home, he sent texts explaining that he had had a wonderful time, wanted to meet again, etc. And then nothing. After a few days of nothing, the penny dropped… he had only ever called me from friends’ houses, he was always unavailable for large chunks of time, he was living with his “sister”, so had to pop into the dining room to talk to me, his online profile vanished suddenly… I think we all now know that the charming copper was (happily or otherwise) bopping Mrs Copper…

3. Mr Sales

Mr Sales was a (self-confessed) salesman by trade. Oh, sorry – I mean “Business Development Manager”. Anywhoo, predictably, we shared interests and got on fabulously. But, dear reader, once bitten, twice shy! I began to notice the same pattern – large gaps in communication, secretive calls from the DINING ROOM. Seriously – does nobody use their dining table for anything but infidelity nowadays?!

So I decided to do some internet research. As it turns out, Mr Sales was indeed a Business Development Manager. A “recently engaged to his very pretty lady” kind of Business Development Manager. BUSTED! Well, I did what any self-respecting feminist would have done. I contacted her. Not to tell her the depths of his hideous deception, but just enough that I knew she would have to ask him some awkward questions. It broke my heart to do it, but I figured that if my fiance was engaging in dilly-dalliances with other ladies, I would damn well want to know before the wedding. Not after.

I understand that they are “trying to work things out”.

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So, I hear you cry, what’s the moral of such a sordid tale? What did I learn about the male of the species? It is as follows:

Chat-up lines may be crass, but never, ever accept whispered phone calls from the dining room. And, should you be unlucky enough to hear such whispered, covert conversations from behind your mahogany table with matching chairs… ask some VERY awkward questions. Oh, and one more teeny-tiny tale I forgot to mention… that of Mr Hanky-Panky (for which, read “spanky”); well, that’s a tale for another day. Watch this space!

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