Back on the Dating Scene With a Bang

Since I became single again for the 125th time in my life I have of course gone down the inevitable route of online dating. You may recall my earlier blog Blind Dating and Awkward Romance as being my take on the dating scene. Well tragically I am back out there again flaunting my wares like an eager fruit and veg man selling his bananas (no pun intended.

Ok maybe there was a little pun intended, so not only am I back on all of the usual rubbish dating apps getting morally beat down and made to feel like the world is against me ever finding a date again, I am also going out on weekends spreading my wings like a proud peacock trying to impress which ever flock of women might want to pay the slightest bit of attention. It’s tough.
So, we go out to the bar, me and my wingman are in place, pint in one hand, cane in the other. He identifies the target and we take aim. Well I say we do, I’m not really sure any more what we do. I have often felt the lead has gone from my pencil and I am instead scratching with a blunt instrument desperately trying to find someone to lend me a sharpener.
Eventually someone has enough curiosity to come over and say hi, normally to figure out why I am carrying a light sabre with me and what fancy dress party I had been too. After the explanation is given and they are now educated to my rather severe sight loss, normally they tend to disappear into the darkness as they probably know I won’t be able to spot them again. Perhaps if it were a light sabre they might stay a bit longer and I could use some Jedi mind tricks on them.
It is said that to catch a girl’s attention you need to catch their eyes. There are two things wrong with this and no, not the obvious glass eye joke, not even I would go that far.
1. How do you catch someone’s eyes when you can’t see them?
2. If you somehow manage to see someone you like, how do you avoid looking like a crazy stalker with your wonky eyes trying to figure out if she has paid any attention to your advances?

It’s an impossible job and regrettable one that I fear I may be stuck in for some time at the rate I’m going. I don’t envy the girls having to put up with my insanely bad dance moves; I must look like a right idiot. Given the only time I dance is when I have had far too many beers on board. I think I have been keeping Jack Daniels in business for quite a while now. But seriously, a blind, drunk and insanely bad dancer swinging his legs and arms around like a fish out of water must be quite the sight. Thankfully no one has filmed it yet, well to my knowledge at least. It’s no wonder this proud peacock gets reduced to a KFC eating monster wobbling home through the streets of Cheltenham at 3am.

There must be an easier way around this guy seeks girl rubbish that us single men go through. Why does it have to be the guy that makes the first move? I know it’s the old fashioned way and I understand that but surely every now and then one of you lovely lasses can turn around and say, ‘Cor blimey, nice cane, can I have a go?’ Again, no pun intended. Well maybe a little bit.

It may well be easier to join the monastery and become a monk; in fact, I think that’s what I will do. It would be a lot cheaper.

That’s it for now,

Until next time

MRWG

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