We split because Sally said we had nothing in common.
Three years it took her to figure that out.
What a bloody waste of time.
So, after a few weeks of pub crawls and club trawls, yet finding nobody who vaguely rang bells, I saw an advert for one of those expensive dating sites. You know, one of those that brag about finding your exact match?
I let it fall from my mind, until I came back late one night, pissed and bored.
You know the rest. On went the laptop, out came the credit card and I then divulged my likes and dislikes.
After an hour of waiting for the ideal date my eyes felt too heavy to continue, so I flopped off to bed.
The next morning, head thumping like a crap rave beat, I turned on the laptop and was surprised to see that it had come up with a match.
There wasn’t a picture, but the name was intriguing. It said she was called Diamond Drawers.
I thought it was funny, if not a little diverse, so I clicked yes to meeting her.
She then sent me an email asking for a picture, so I thought it would be amusing to reply that I was testing the integrity of the dating site’s boast. She also seemed to think that was funny, because she was doing that herself.
Gazza and Phil said she was probably a munter.
I must admit to feeling a bit worried that they might be right, but thought it was worth a giggle meeting someone that had seemed funny and liked the same things I did.
Sally could be out there having trouble and I could be about to find my ideal partner.
The night arrived and we arranged to meet at the Balti Shed in town.
I must admit to feeling a bit nervous.
I arrived a little early and was led to my table to wait…and wait…and wait…until, to my surprise, she arrived.
She was too shocked to stay, so just turned and ran off.
Sally can’t even admit shit to herself.