Donna is dishing out some useful tips on dating as a single parent in her post this week. I completely agree with her tips and wish I had them when I was first on the dating scene as a single parent. You can read her post Parental Guidance over at eHarmony.
I was going to write my tips for dating as a single mum, instead I here is an example of ‘what not to do’ with one of my very early dating experiences.
My parents had very kindly offered to take my two children to a Christmas party they were invited to. This would mean they would be gone for a couple of hours in the evening. I hadn’t told my parents I was trying online dating so used the free hours for a date. This would mean rushing around getting ready after they had left and making a dash home Cinderella style before they returned. I figured I could do it.
The date was arranged and my date requested I wore something posh. I was pretty sure he hadn’t been tipped off that posh was not natural days look for me so asked why I had to wear posh. He explained he would be taking me somewhere posh. We agreed to meet in a car park and then I would follow him. Before you raise your eyebrows the car park was picked by me as I knew it would be busy and I was not about to give out my address to a stranger.
My parents were delayed in picking the children up which meant I was rather rushed and harassed in getting ready. Finally I skipped out the door to my car in a rather fetching dress and high heels. I didn’t get very far as I then realised sitting on the kitchen worktop were my car and house keys. I have since learnt not to keep these keys together and to also not have Yale locks that can lock behind you.
So I am standing there fit for The Ritz with not a car in sight in the little village I lived in. Not a sole to help me out. The only thing I could do was to climb in the small top window of the downstairs bathroom. Just as I am legs akimbo airing next week washing in the most undignified fashion, a car pulls up after spotting me. Not any old car, oh no. It was in fact a police car. I now had to un-climb my accent and point out to the rather two bemused police men that it was my house and if I was actually a burglar would I have not chosen a better outfit to climb through windows in. The two police men finally convinced I was too mad to be a burglar offered to help me. The window was too small for them I so I re-climbed through the window whilst they held my shoes and averted their eyes. Many minutes later a rather now dishevelled me arrived at the car park rather late. I didn’t dare try to explain to my date the events so far and just muttered something about car trouble.
For this sad tale of my date to have a happy ending I wish I could now boast the most gorgeous and expensive posh place he took me to. Sadly I can’t. His and my idea of posh couldn’t have been further apart. It was in fact a pub, one that I had been too many times and not posh by any stretch of the imagination.
My final ‘what not to do’ was my exit. I rather pathetically made my excuses to use the ladies room and ran.