Oh how I have so much to update you on.
Dear god its been a wild ride.
Just 4 months since my last post!
Don’t worry I am still single and sassy as ever.
Things that don’t change – me.
Well, welcome back and I need to tell you a few things.
Marc from The Worst Date Ever – Part 1 & Part 2 (yes there are two parts cause you can’t tell that evening is one go without a break) has been in touch.
And by in touch – I mean he knows.
But before we go down that rabbit hole we need to back it up just a minute.
So get your booty right next to me, get comfortable and fucking hold on.
I published a blog post about the worst date ever and people thought I was telling a bunch of bullshit.
I’ve also been introduced to people I don’t know as: “the girl who writes the Tinder blog”.
Which to me is – fucking insane.
Then the unbelievable happened – a director contacted me. He read the blog and wanted to turn it into a stage show.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a mother fucking stage show in a god damn theatre.
You best believe I was all about it and over wine he completely sold me on the idea.
So with any stage show you need actors and to get actors you need to do auditions and the best way to get auditions is to subject all the people you know across all social media platforms that you are looking for someone to literally play you and the dude you wrote two blog posts about and met on Tinder.
*takes deep breath*
But what most of you don’t know is that days after I posted on my Facebook that I was going to be holding auditions for the show Marc showed back up in my life.
Ah, yes, he emerged in his full glory with a stunning agenda.
He wanted to have a conversation about the blog.
Originally I said I wouldn’t write anything about Marc. I agreed to that but as I explained to him, when everything was said and done. We didn’t owe each other anything.
The last we spoke was months ago and we were on good terms. You see after that infamous date Marc and I kept talking.
Yes, I am a dumb dumb.
You see after investing 3 months into someone I just wanted a civil friendship. I thought, well obviously we can never date, we can never go back to what it was before that night and we definitely cannot sleep together.
But you see after a month of talking I realised I was putting more in than I was getting back. I would ask Marc what he has been up to and how life has been. Our conversation was mostly one sided.
And after four weeks of my best friend telling me not to talk to him but forever being supportive I got fed up.
If you know me and we are friends then you know I am a hype gal. If you want to change careers, do it. If you want to move countries, do it. If you want to go on a three-day bender, I am right there with you and if you want to stay in bed and just have a cuddle I will happily be your big spoon.
Friendship with me, means we are in this together. The good, the bad and all the yarns in between. It is a two way street of advise, shit talking and laughing till you cry.
Marc, on the other hand was on a one way street to Pissing Me Off Town with pit stops at Lying Station, Selfish Valley and Boring amusement park. So I thought I would give him one final chance.
Yeah yeah, I know how stupid I sound (A DUMB DUMB) but I like to see things through to completion. That’s how I ended up doing a Masters Degree.
So I ignored his message about himself the day before my birthday and I thought, if he texts me to say Happy Birthday then I will consider continuing this situation.
Alas, Marc being Marc he didn’t text.
No fucking surprises there.
So my gift to myself was that I would block him on Instagram and delete him on Snapchat.
Wow I am a fucking millennial.
He could still text me and contact me on Facebook but this train had left the station on the way to the new world that doesn’t involve dudes who waste my time. I didn’t hear from Marc that day or any other day after that.
Not until the audition notice went public.
And then that little minx popped back up in my life didn’t he.
FYI: his best friend message me saying how he was so proud of me and how excited he was.
Marc quickly establishes that he knows about the blog post.
He also expresses that he doesn’t like it.
He also then asks me about the show.
I wasn’t sure what was more shocking, the fact that he knows about everything. Or that he is talking to me.
Then I realised he was trying to manipulate the situation.
“I am genuinely upset that it ended up so shit in the end. Especially considering out conversations just died and now I’m a fuckboy. I want to ask you how you are and what you’ve been up to. But it is a little tough when I’m fuckboy Marc”
- if he was upset at how it ended, he would of apologised
- conversations don’t just die for no reason
- never called him a fuck boy
- he can still ask me how I am and what I have been up to
- stop the poor merant
As I explained to him that no one actually cares who he actually is, that he has always been able to contact me and that keeping his identity a secret is my only concern regarding him.
He tells me once again how I said I wouldn’t write a blog post about him and now there is a show. That he is justified in being concerned with that. He says it’s hurtful and harsh.
You see the last time we spoke I genuinely cared about him.
*claps* Guess *claps* what*claps* bitch.
Now I don’t.
For the first time since knowing me, I was my own first priority.
There was no negation. I wasn’t backing down.
Which was not like me at all and this conversation isn’t going the way he had hoped.
If he didn’t like what I wrote, maybe just maybe he should have thought about his actions as the repercussions they might have.
As he told me and I quote: “having a blog about Tinder mishaps you’re incentivised to exaggerate and create drama for the sake of content.”
Oh baby cakes do you hear that?
That’s you, clutching at straws.
You fool.
Then I reminded him of the facts.
- he showed up late
- he showed up bleeding
- the date went terribly
- he had spent the day with another woman
I said I will never reveal his identity and I stand by that and y’all have tried to get it out of me.
Then he just thanked me for hearing him out and the conversation ended with me saying “no worries.”
Oh but how Marc wasn’t done.
Explaining to the director the conversation I had only nights before, he takes this moment to say how he isn’t surprised.
Why?
Oh, only that Marc had contact the theatres president, outed himself and was asking that the show gets pulled from the festival.
Yeah I told you to hold on for a wild ride.
What Marc didn’t know is that the director of my show was in fact the Vice President of the theatre where the festival was being held.
And whilst he explained his situation to the president she turned around and used two beautiful words.
Creative Licence.
Which translated and expanded means that you have every right to do what you want with the stories you have about other people and yourself and if don’t like it that story being told well, tough biscuits.
If Marc wanted to have a cry then he totally can, he’s allowed to. But don’t be thinking the show was not going to go ahead.
Get your own show, your own blog and your own dating stories.
And before I bloody knew it, the show was a real, four person ensemble that I was working on three nights a week.
The cast of Tinder Stories – The Worst Date Ever consists of three Seren’s and one Marc. Yes, there are three of me and yes it is everything you need it to be. It was the director’s idea and I am beyond happy we went for it.
I might be bias, but it is really funny.
And just as a friend of mine who works at Stuff was telling her boss about the fact she was coming to the show. Her boss asked her if I would do an interview. Because turning your crappy date into a stage show is just as funny as it sounds.
Nothing can prepare you for what emotions hit you when you realise that you are having a conversation about your own dating life with a reporter that will be published to the nation.
If you missed it you can find it here.
27,644 people read that article in a week. Which blows my mother fucking mind.
I also go no dates out of it.
But I did get to update my Bumble bio though.
Which is something right.
Also considering offering a service for writing bios for people to be honest.
Because if we are all stuck on dating apps then we might as well have something funny to read. Right?
I was quietly shitting myself because it all seemed like a dream until I was in the back seat of the car being driven to my opening night.
A friend of mine I think encapsulated the show in a one line:
“I had a big fat lol”
Despite everyone thinking it was going to happen, Marc didn’t come to the show.
Alas, I have no idea what he’s doing.
He is still Completely Irrelevant and I plan to keep it that way.
Hidden Under The Covers 