Dating MR DARCY

He’s well-known, extremely handsome, and lived in Hollywood, rubbing shoulders with A-listers for years. But now he’s home, this single dad proves finding love second-time around isn’t much easier for men…

It used to be – when I was younger, with a thinner waistline, thicker hairline and a fatter wallet – that my dating opportunities were ridiculously plentiful.

But I’m not having much luck lately. I’ve been blocked by another site. dating Who knows why, but it’s probably because someone suspects that I’m catfishing with bogus pics of me again. (I’m getting bored of being banned from sites for impersonating myself !) And while there have been fleeting moments of flirting with girls in M&S, on the Tube or in the gym, where I attempt to lift weights, they go nowhere.

So, it goes part of the way to explaining why I made the fatal mistake of answering a DM on Instagram from a former disastrously highly-strung date, who was letting me know she had moved to the area.

She wanted us to ‘be cool’. Random, as we hadn’t spoken in years but one text led to another and, before I could scream ‘still emotionally damaged’ and run a country mile, we had arranged to

‘casually’ catch up.

So casual, in fact, that I was the one who eventually called her suggesting times and places.

The third time she postponed, I ghosted her.

I offloaded my dating woes on Bridget, who suggested I sign up to the site she uses (I have), and on a woman – let’s call her

Maria – who is Greek and runs the local coffee shop. The cafe is a home from home. I stop off on a regular basis and we swap dating stories.

I’ve never asked her out, because she’s casually mentioned that she wouldn’t consider anyone over 45 (she’s 35). I took that as an obvious ‘I wouldn’t date you because you’re 15 years older than me and addicted to coffee.’

Anyway, as I ordered my one-shot skinny latte, she complimented me on my tan, asking where

I had been on holiday. Embarrassed,

I admitted I had been no further than our local sunbed store, where

I had paid for a spray tan (think

Ross from Friends… ‘One Mississippi, two Mississippi’.) Five minutes later, she abandoned her position behind the counter and joined to me discuss spray tans as she wanted to try one for the first time.

Who knew two people could to start bond over not being able to tan in natural sunlight? Not so much a romantic scene from Sleepless in Seattle, more like me resembling Apu from The Simpsons explaining it was cheaper to book a course if she wants that ‘au naturel’ glow, but still.

She’s also joining the gym that I go to. Hmm… But even if she were to date me, Maria is Greek and after last week’s date with a Spanish girl, I’m not sure I have the energy to keep checking Google Translate to converse. As she went back to serving customers, her parting quip was: ‘I know what I want, it’s up to men to work out what that is.’ I’ve got no chance then,

I can’t even work out how to use my television remote, never mind second-guess a woman…