LIFE LESSONS

Just like that, three dates become one

During a wildly over-enthusiastic Tinder session I make an imprudent decision to schedule three dates in one week. The first is with a handsome 36 year old who is fond of taking pictures of himself in the gym. The second candidate, Stephen, is already proving to be a bit of a nightmare but I’m putting up with him because he looks very attractive holding a power drill. The emotional baggage he comes with is less of a draw. After much back and forth about where and when we should meet he texts me to say there is something I should know before our date. Let me guess, you’ve recently broken up with someone and she’s still living with you but it’s all perfectly amicable and nothing to worry about at all. And you only felt the need to tell me because you’re an incredibly honest person. Am I close? Well almost, except she’s also the mother of his two children. Stephen asks how I feel about this. I want to tell him that he’s a giant pain in the ass and clearly not ready for the world of dating but instead I say I think he’s got enough on his plate without adding an Irishwoman with commitment issues to it and wish him all the best. In the midst of all this nonsense, date number one turns into a major creep, texting me at all times of the night with a pin drop of his location. I want to let him know that this behaviour is akin to stalking and that he relies on the winky face emoji far too heavily for a man of his age but instead I block him because I’ve used all my patience up life-coaching Stephen. And so by Monday, only one prospect remains. A bespectacled half-Italian, half-I-forget classical musician called Peter. Peter has no kids, no baggage and no obvious stalker tendencies. We’re going for a drink on Thursday. My only worry is that if Peter is the normal one here, what does that make me?