The dating scene in London is something that I have come to learn doesn’t really exist. You would think from all the Richard Curtis movies Brits date just like us Americans. A typical American dating scenario hits the following notes – Couple meet, Couple go on a date, Couple begin a series of dating rituals: sext-ing, game playing, actual sex and then maybe a real relationship. It might be lame but it's real. Yet, here in London the dating culture seems to be tailor-made to fit the needs of an average British man. It is lazy, apathetic and spends most of its time in the pub.
The way in which some British couples get together is fascinating. Couple go out for night of hard core drinking with their separate group of friends, Couple spots each other from across the room, 10 or so drinks in - Couple make their way over to each other then fumble around for some few introductory words. Couple proceeds to make out all night long then spends the night together. The couple’s relationship is solidified by a series of drunken hook ups that lead to weekend then weekday sleepovers. After 6 months or so if both parties agree (with no acknowledgement to each other of course) that they both enjoy getting drunk and realize unbeknownst to themselves they effectively been living together, they form a union. 6 or 7 years later the Couple marries, then breeds children who will one day grow up to have the same type of fulfilling relationship.
Not all London hook ups begin in the pub. Some start out charming and normal until you find yourself sitting across a beautiful guy who happens to be a Holocaust denier. That is what happened to my friend Brian a couple of weeks ago.
Below is the text stream between Brian and I on that dreaded night.
Brian: Am on date in Soho. Where are you?
Me: Home watching the Military channel with Nigel. Exciting. Enjoy your date
Brian: With hot but potentially miserable date. Will email morrow
Me: Ooh… need details
Brian: When someone says Auschwitz ‘probably happened’ I’m wondering whether they are boyfriend material
Me: Are you serious? Get out of there now
Brian: Shame he’s gorgeous. But I feel a bit sick. Don’t think I can even shag him now.
Apparently during what was already an awkward dinner date, Brian tries to drum up conversation by discussing the photo the Holocaust Denier (HD) used as his Facebook profile picture. The aforementioned picture was of the HD standing in front of the entrance of the Auschwitz sign. In the picture he looked smoldering and serene, hot enough to shag according to my friend. Brian harmlessly asked the HD the origin of the photo and if it held any personal significance to him, ie were one of his family members survivors. Casually, the HD replies –‘No I was just like traveling and what not and like decided to stop there. It thought it was fine. Anyway, like I am sure it probably happened.’ The over use of the word like and dropping the word ‘probably’ turned my friend off for the entire evening and killed a night that could have ended in beautiful meaningless sex.
So that begs the question - What are you supposed to do in a town where most people get together over 5 or 6 (I mean 15 or 16) pints of lager? Or when you actually get a proper date the person also happens to be a Holocaust denier? Where is bloody Richard Curtis when we need him? Probably thinking of ways to revive Hugh Grant’s career. I love you Hugh!
Natasha xxx
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