In my time dating (though that time doesn’t seem to be over) I have met a few weird eggs.
Sure I am happy to admit I am a weirdo but in the sense that occasionally I make dinosaur noises and maybe that is why I am single. Maybe this entire story doesn’t have a leg to stand on because I have set my standards at a certain level and me saying no in this story makes me too weird to date?
You be the judge. I’ll just get back to the story.
His tinder profile was something straight from Instagram.
I could see he had curated his images so that he appeared like every millennials girls dream.
He had an amazing smile, the body ever dude probably wants and a love for adventure.
It’s easy to spot these sorts of guys of dating apps because it’s the “too good to be true” look. Pictures of animals, then exotic images of places they have been, some witty captions and no images of girlfriends past but they were definitely taken by them. Because no dude can make himself that candid on demand.
As a general rule, I don’t swipe right on these guys because normally they are all talk and no delivery. No dude who spends that much time on his social media has enough time for a relationship. Call my bluff but those images are there for a reason and it is not for his mum to see. These profiles are riddled with red flags. But what have we learnt, Seren loves the colour red.
But anyway this is the story of Liam.
A guy I matched with and how I worked out he wasn’t for me.
So let’s start at the beginning.
Liam and kicked things off and we got on well. The banter was good, he wasn’t destressing to look at and honestly he was a nice guy.
But like all stories that make it onto the blog, it’s not all rainbows and lollipops.
It was an evening where Liam wanted to catch up.
It was also an evening I didn’t want company.
Bless Liam though as he said “I’ll pick up donuts and we can just watch a movie”.
Now listen, I knew my heart of hearts that Liam wasn’t trying to make himself boyfriend material nor was I wanted him to. He had some really fucking dumb things that I had to address. So Liam if you are reading this, this isn’t an invitation to come back into my DMs.
Anyway, I told him I didn’t want company, that I was in a mood but he seemed to think he could change all of that.
We love a man who is yet to realise how powerless he is.
But back to the Uber Eats delivery of donuts that I don’t want but will say thank you for because I am not a savage.
I let Liam come round.
Liam turns up, donuts in hand and he’s rather chipper.
I put myself back in bed and put the donuts on my side table and ask him how he is. To which he didn’t answer but asked why I wasn’t eating the donuts.
- I said I wasn’t interested in donuts
- I said I wasn’t interested in you.
- I said I wasn’t interested in company.
So I just handed him the donuts and asked him what he wanted to watch and like most people we just sat there scrolling through Netflix for 10,000 years unable to pick a damn movie.
We were talking about what’s happened in our lives since the last time we caught up, Liam is just finishing off his donut when he asks me if I have any nail clippers.
To which I pause my scrolling and ask him:
“yeah, I need to cut my finger nails”
Im sorry, what.
“you want to use my nail clippers?”
“oh no sorry that’s not happening”
“why not? it’s just me”
And at this moment I realise that this dude really isn’t kidding.
Then again when are they joking?
All I can say is “you aren’t using my nail clippers”
Liam then reveals his first and foolish card.
“well then you aren’t getting these hands”
Sir, I didn’t want you here in the first place, I didn’t want your donuts and I most definitly don’t want your god damn fucking hands that don’t actually do all that much.
“that’s fine by me honestly” is what I really said though isn’t it.
At this rate I am completely unsure why I even let him come round and most definitely do not know how to get him out quick enough.
And then I see him pick up his phone, open google and type in:
“is it weird to borrow nail clippers?”
What. The. Fuck. Honestly. Get. Out.
Twas at this moment I realised that Liam really wanted to do nothing more than to clip his god damn mother fucking nails.
And all I wanted was for this conversation to be over.
Listen I am not sure what was weirder the fact that he wanted to use my nail clippers or that he needed to use my nail clippers right then and there.
Like if he had a splinter then I would totally understand. They hurt like hell every single time you knock them. But Liam ain’t got no splinter. He ain’t even got one dang hang nail.
He’s just my last nerve and he’s stepping all over it.
And whilst I stare at him and realise that he is on page 2 of google trying to find anything that makes it not seem weird, I am planning on how do I get him out of my house asap whilst making this worth while?
Yup. You guessed it.
I slept with him.
Do you hear it? Its me hitting the bottom of the barrel.
Don’t worry, like most men, there wasn’t any foreplay on his behalf.
And 20ish minutes later I was alone in my room with donuts.
Liam hit me up at a later date.
He asked if he could come round with donuts again.
“Bring me champange, I’m over donuts “