Oasis of Crazy Fish

by Sasha Silver

  I still think about this guy sometimes even today, I really found him attractive, and I have yet to meet anybody who comes close.

  Pilot from Preston

  This is a classic case of what a guy is looking for when he asks you to sit in his car for date. Don’t worry ladies you will love the end of this story as do I.

  So, this gorgeous guy in his late thirties sends me a message. I knew straight away that something would be up. I read his profile and it said he was a pilot. He looked like a pilot too! You know…debonair, sophisticated, clean looking and gorgeous. Now from what I recall, this guy messed me about a bit and if it had been anybody else I would have told him to sling his hook, but I found him so irresistible, I just thought next wrong move pal.

  We eventually arranged a date and he was really leaving it until the last possible minute to get in touch. When he finally did, I gave him the name of the pub to meet me at and a time to meet.

  Now again, I think because he left it so late to ring me I was a little cross already on my way to the date. Anybody watching me drive would think me crazy as I was talking away to myself about what an idiot I was to meet this guy after the way he had disrespected me.

  It was a really cold, dark night, and as usual it was pissing down – not a good ambience at all. When I got to the car park, I parked as near to the door as I could get. I was dressed for a date. I didn’t want my hair being blown around and mascara running down my face.

  Once I was parked, Irang him. “Hi ya, where are you?”

  “I’m in the corner. Come park next to me,” he replied. No return greeting or anything.

  This confused me for a second. “What do you mean? Why should I park next to you if you’re further away from the door than I am? If anything, you should park next to me.”

  “No, come and park next to me.”

  My blood was now boiling. I suddenly knew what he was about. “When you say in ‘the corner’, where exactly in the corner?”

  “I’m in the black Corsa, 52 plate. Well, I was thinking you could come and sit in my car. Thought that would be nice.” Oh, how fucking lovely of you.

  “Why would I sit in your car when the pub is just there?”

  “Well, let’s stop arguing about it. Get in my car and let’s discuss it.” Fuck it, this bastard is going to get it…..

  So, I parked my car next to his and got out. I approached and knocked on his window. When I saw him in the light I was more than surprised. This guy did not look anything like his picture. He was wearing a vest and joggy bottoms, and obviously hadn’t gone to any trouble at all. As he wound his window down, I asked for his keys. There was no way I was getting in that car unless I was holding his keys. I didn’t know him, and I really wasn’t happy and I think I scared him a little…so he handed me his keys and I went around the passenger side and got in.

  He tried to kiss me immediately and I pulled away. There was no way I was going to let him think he was getting away with anything. “So why am I in your car and not sitting in the pub?” I asked, still clutching his keys and staring him in the eye.

  “I don’t drink, really.”

  “Neither do I. That’s why I picked this pub it does lovely coffee. If you had said when we were arranging the date that you didn’t want to meet in a pub, I wouldn’t have picked this place if that was important to you.” I was clenching the keys in my hand so hard that they were digging into my palm.

  “Well I wanted us to be alone too.” That was the whole of his explanation for the deceit.

  “Oh, did you? Why’s that then?” Then there was a long pause. We just sat staring at each other. I finally broke the silence. “You’re not a pilot, are you?”

  “Is it important?”

  “Who do you fly with? I’ll google it,” I offered.

  “No, I’m not a pilot. But I am learning to fly,” he finally admitted.

  “So, you lied?”

  “No not really. I am a pilot…it’s just not my main job. Sasha, why are you being so aggressive with me?” He tried to turn the tables on me, and make this about me being angry when he was the one who had lied.

  “Because, pal! You look like you’re married, and you just popped out for some milk. You’re wearing flip flops, a vest t-shirt, and joggy bottoms. You have clearly lied about your job to attract my attention, or the attention of any ladies actually. And clearly, you are not what you say you are. You have dressed ready for some quick action. Those joggers you’re wearing, you think they are easy to pull down. You think that I’m fucking stupid and desperate enough that I’m going to let you kiss me in this car, pull your trousers down, and give you a quick blow job?” I let it all out. And do you know what he did? He smirked. HE. FUCKING. SMIRKED. That pissed me off even more. “Well, let me tell you. You picked the wrong woman. You have wasted my time, you arrogant twat. Now I am going to waste yours. You are going to have to explain to your wife why you’re late getting milk.”

  And with that, I got out of his car and threw his keys into the dark trees and bushes opposite. I still wonder how he explained that to his wife.

  Gary from Chorley

  I’m telling this story because I felt that I got emotionally conned by a guy who I was clearly out of his league. This was the guy that gave me a reality check about how desperate I may have become. I missed all the signs because he was unattractive and I assumed that unattractive guys are not that clever. Wrong.

  He played the hunting line, “you’re my girlfriend,” and I fell for it. Although, to be fair I don’t know how long he would have done.

  I met Gary in anger. I met him because the guy I really wanted to meet cancelled me again. I sat there thinking, Why don’t I meet Gary? He has been nagging to meet me, unlike Brian who keeps canceling on me. So I agreed to meet Gary. That was when he told me he was in hospital. How weird can this get? But I was angry, so I agreed.

  Turns out he was in hospital because he had been stabbed at work. Gary was a security guard in a local town centre and he’d had corrective surgery. I drove to Preston Hospital and we went for a coffee in the supermarket opposite.

  I was disappointed when I first saw him. He had horrible brown teeth and fungus on all his fingernails. He smelled dirty, and looked unkempt. I was sitting there and wishing away every minute.

  The trouble was, he was lovely. A really nice guy, and I felt like a woman kicking a puppy dog. I went home after our date, and tried to ignore his text, but he was most insistent in texting me. He asked to ring me, but I kept putting him off. In the end, I gave in and gave my number. He phoned me and we ended up talking for hours. There were so many similarities between us it was spooky. (I would like to point out that he mentioned all these things first. It wasn’t a case of him agreeing with me.)

  Things we had spookily in common were:

  I have always wanted to chase a hurricane/Tornado. Strange but true

  I love watching Seven Brides for Seven Brothers at Christmas. It’s my favorite thing to do.

  I have always wanted to visit Las Vegas and New York.

  I love Mary Poppins. It’s my favorite Disney movie followed by Jungle book.

  I loved the film Cool Runnings. I found it inspirational.

  I love zoos, in particular Rhino’s.

  Every time he mentioned something like that I thought Wow! He could do DIY too, including making his own paint. He loved to cook and made homemade pasta. The list was endless, and he was certainly somebody who I’d judged on the outside but was very different on the inside.

  I felt so comfortable with him, and eventually I stopped looking at his teeth and fingernails. He really started to reel me in. He seemed to be in to me. We had had about six dates, and every date he appeared sweeter than the last one. He never made any inappropriate moves on me, and was very tender and patient. When he would talk to people on the phone in front of me he would talk about me being his girlfriend, even arranging social functions to include me. I really felt that I had finally met a nice, decent guy
.

  We went out one night for a drink, and I ended up taking him home with me. I instigated it. I wanted it. And I ended up sleeping with him. It was good too.

  The next morning, I got a text from him saying, “Good morning, gorgeous.” He texted me all day, then at two in the afternoon, when he was supposed to be coming to mine, he texted to say that his dad had been taken into hospital, and he had to go. I got a couple of texts in the afternoon, and he said he would ring me at eight that night. That call never came.

  The next day he didn’t call. In fact, I sent two messages and he never even read them. I guess I was a hook up.

  There’s a phrase I’ve heard, “Sometimes you’re the pigeon, and sometimes you’re the statue. As you have seen, I’ve been both the pigeon and the statue many times in my dating life.

  The Dating Police

  This time round on the dating scene I seem to be a whole lot feistier. I put up with nothing and seem to have turned into “the dating police.” Actually, it can be quite fun. You might ask why I even bother? Believe me, it’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over. The only answer I can come up with is that I have this unquenchable thirst to show these men that their behavior is unacceptable.

  Years ago, I would have been quite submissive and just gone along with things. These days, I‘m very abrupt and blunt. I say exactly what I want. If their behavior or even just their messaging is unacceptable, I don’t just walk away, I confront them with it. I don’t think I am a rude person. I just take no nonsense from these faceless guys who think they can hide behind a computer and say whatever they want. What they need to learn is that there is always another guy waiting for his turn…I can just move to the next one in line.

  Mark the High School Teacher

  I read Mark’s profile and he was a high school teacher in my local town. So, I messaged this him. Now, I’ve said before that I don’t normally message first because, to be honest, in my experience the guys that I find attractive seem to prefer petit blondes, and I am anything but a petit blonde. But, Mark was a teacher, so I thought he would be a good character, right?

  Wrong!

  I sent a message and I couldn’t believe my luck when he replied. Especially when the reply said, “You’re gorgeous.” Ok, a gorgeous guy just said I was gorgeous he has to be a player. I know you might think that I shouldn’t put myself down, but when the same experience happens over and over, you see the pattern. It’s best to accept it and just know that it is what it is.

  He continued the conversation and quickly asked, “You want a date?”

  ME: Yes I would love to meet you

  HIM: Would love to see you in a nice dress

  ME: I don’t wear dresses

  HIM: What you wear

  ME: Skirts mainly

  HIM: You got a nice peachy ass

  ME: Thought your profile said a good honest genuine guy – bit cheeky

  HIM: I am – so peachy ass

  ME: No

  HIM: Big tits though right?

  ME: Yup

  HIM: Lovelyyyyyyy

  ME: And my name is ……

  HIM: Yes what’s your name

  ME: Sasha

  HIM: I wanna meet you tonight

  ME: Can’t do tonight

  HIM: Ok tomorrow then, now listen babes some cleavage on show please. Oh an in a relationship I am a sexaholic.

  ME: Is that right?

  HIM: Every morning and several times at night – can you cope lol

  ME: That’s normal isn’t it?

  HIM: Both holes?

  ME: You’re not going to like me

  HIM: Why

  ME: Because any minute now I am going to tell you to fuck off.

  He didn’t like that. He went very quiet and we never messaged again.

  Romero – The Italian Guy

  Romero was an Italian guy, fifty-five years old from the town where I worked. He contacted me and just kept repeating the same thing - “I fancy you, meet me.” It was so boring.

  After a couple of days, he sent me another message saying, “Come on meet me.”

  I wondered why he was so persistent and replied with, “What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, I finish work at 9.30 on Saturday night, come round to mine”

  I was so mad I could feel the anger rising from my feet up. I responded with, “So your home around 10ish?”

  “Yes, we can have something to eat and drink.”

  I responded sarcastically, “Okay, have £500 ready then.” He just sent a question mark. “Well if you’re going to treat me like a whore you can pay me like one.”

  It seemed that he was a bit offended and said he was only inviting me for dinner…yeah, right. Do they really think you’re that stupid? First of all, a guy inviting you to his house at ten at night, of course there is only one thing on his mind. If the lady turns up? They consider that consent.

  Carlos – The Forgetful One

  I started messaging another guy. We moved to swapping numbers and text messaging, as I usually do. And we seemed to get on really well. A couple nights later, he rang and we seemed to connect on the phone as well.

  We talked for a long while, and as the conversation drew to an end he explained that he had a busy week coming up and would ring me Wednesday night. I empathized and replied that if he was busy he didn’t need to specify a day. He could just say that he would call me next week. But he was adamant that he would ring Wednesday.

  So, of course, I waited for him to call. I know I probably shouldn’t have, but I had agreed to that evening so wanted to ensure my availability. The evening got later and later and no call came. Thursday came and went as did Friday and Saturday, and Sunday all without a phone call from Carlos. Then Monday evening my phone rang. It was him. I contemplated not answering, but decided to answer and let him know that this was not acceptable.

  When I answered the phone, I was surprised to hear the cheer in his voice. “Hi ya, how are you?”

  “Hi, I am fine. Thank you.” I waited a heartbeat before asking, “What day is it?”

  There was a silence on the other end for a few seconds. “Erm…Monday, I think? Yes, Monday.”

  “Well at the end of our last conversation you insisted, despite me trying to correct you, that you were going to ring on Wednesday. It’s now Monday.”

  “I am so sorry. I completely forgot. I’ve just been so busy.” He did sound sincere, but I was still pissed because I’d given him the chance to not be so specific, and he’d insisted.

  “Well, that’s terrible behavior. All I can say is fuck off and don’t ring me again.” I hung up.

  He tried to ring back, but I blocked him. You probably think me harsh here. But it shows me straight away about their lack of respect. He forgot to ring somebody he was trying to woo for a date. I don’t want to meet that kind of a guy.

  Stuart from Lancaster

  I got chatting to Stuart, and after a week or so we arranged to meet. I know you may think that I agree to meet too quickly, but to be honest, it’s not like I’m doing anything else; my social calendar is rather limited. And besides, my optimistic side thinks, “You never know, this could be my one.” Finally, and most importantly, I don’t want to get attached by just messaging. I learned the only thing that matters is the face to face. A cyber connection does not mean a connection in real life and can be disappointing if you have let it build up. So it’s best to meet, see if there is anything and build from there.

  We arranged a date, a location and a time. The date was four days away…on Friday. After the conversation arranging all this I didn’t hear from him at all. I was slightly disappointed. You kind of just think it’s part of the territory and move on.

  Now, I love Friday nights at home. Really. It’s soap night, and usually Big Brother Live Eviction night, so I don’t mind staying in. Since I hadn’t heard from Stuart, I was all ready to settle in for the night when my phone rang. It was him.

  “Hi, Sasha. Just checking in with y
ou and making sure we are alright for tonight?”

  “Tonight? Oh, sorry. I made other arrangements for tonight now.” I tried to make it sound like I hadn’t been bothered by his forgetting. You can’t let them know that it bothers you…I learned that early on.

  “What? What do you mean? Do you know what kind of day I’ve had running around trying to ensure I finished on time?”

  “But I haven’t heard from you all week. I assumed it was off,” I replied.

  “But we arranged a time and a place. I am a man of my word. If I say I will be there, I will be.”

  “Well I don’t know you, sorry. I don’t know you’re a man of your word. I have only just started speaking to you. I didn’t know if you had made other plans, or forgotten ours. I reiterate, I don’t know you. You should, at the very least, have texted me this morning.”

  “You’re right. I should have done. I’m sorry. Is there any way you can change your plans?”

  “No, sorry. And for future reference, if you arrange a date, it’s really rude not touching base with them.”

  He was very apologetic and asked if I would meet him another time. I did meet him at another point but there was no chemistry for both of us.

  Kris from Chorley

  Kris contacted me from Chorley and he had no picture. Normally I wouldn’t have accepted, but I did this time, purely because he lived in Chorley. Now his user name had the words “fun” and “69” in it – again, I should have known better. I am guessing that’s not the year he was born.

  HIM: hi xxx

  ME: I accepted you with trepidation

  HIM: Why x

  ME: no pic and user name. Be nice ok? I don’t want to fall out with you.

  HIM: I am a nice man - flirty but nice

  ME: ok well flirt nicely

  HIM: Will do. Best put my pants back on. So how much fun and flirting you like? Does it have to be cyber or you prefer the real thing

  ME: I love fun. I love bowling, the cinema, going out with friends but somehow I think you’re using the male word for fun and you mean sex.

  HIM: yes that type of fun for me please xx:)