On Paper:

A trip to the circus, just couple of lovers clowning around…

In Reality:

My date and I matched on Tinder. He was called Charlie, very good looking, 6’3, a copywriter, had a man bun and a beard.

His chat began quite pessimistically…

“This is going to end badly isn’t it?”

I played ignorance to the odds never being in my favour…

“Why ever do you say that Charlie?”

We continued chatting for a few days, he was perfect  – spoke in full prose, had a love of Paris, every other message was a compliment on my womanly form.

Then I received a message from him via Instagram instead of Tinder.

“I think I’d like to feature in ones blog”

I had a little look through Charlie86 pictures, beard and man bun prominent in all – but he did look a little different (we’re all guilty of playing to our strengths on Tinder)…

…So I ignored it.

And he sent across the idea for a date:

“Debs, I know this is a bit last minute but I’ve got a spare ticket on Friday to a show called “Barbu”  – It’s like this homoerotic circus?!”

(“Debs” already on pet names)

“Definitely! I’d love to!”

We continued chatting on the days leading upto the date –  but the conversation a lot more colloquial. Then he sent a screenshot from a past blog post of mine regarding height:

But I brushed it off (love is very blind).

On the evening of the date we were mid flow in chat, when I heard a message ping on Tinder…

From Charlie.

“How’s your week going Debbie?”

Odd, why would he suddenly switch to Tinder after-

“LAURA!!!!!”

“What now, you loud woman!?”

“CHARLIE ISN’T CHARLIE86!!”

“What?! So who are you going on a date with tonight?!”

“SOME RANDOM MAN FROM INSTAGRAM!”

---

The Date

I got on the train, boggled at my own stupidity. Comparing the photos now I could see the obvious differences; Charlie was very clean cut, whereas Charlie86 had a massive tattoo up his arm and had a pet ferret.

I messaged my housemate to vent:

“Fucking hell, they’re literally like two completely different people Laura”

“THAT’S BECAUSE THEY ARE YOU BELLEND!”

I arrived at SouthBank and began walking towards the theatre ready to meet my date.

Then out through the crowds he emerged:

A solid 5’5.

We were running a little late so didn’t have time to get drinks before being shown to our seats:

“Debs I’m so sorry – this isn’t how I imagined it would be.”

Trust me – the feeling is so mutual.

The show began and four performers came onto the stage with ribbons.

I began to howl enjoying the homoerotic element

Then the circus element kicked in…

“Charlie did you see that!”

“It’s amazing isn’t it”

I looked to Charlie86, it wasn’t his fault he wasn’t Charlie Tinder.

This date might’ve been a total circus in itself – but still, it was a date.

And one is a professional.

So I put on my date face – and began…

The four men began to juggle.

“I can do that”

“You can juggle?”

“Yeah…”

But then the four performers began juggling…

“But can you do that?”

Every time the performers did an insane move, I couldn’t contain my excitement

“DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT CHARLIE!?”

“Yes Debs, we all saw that, please – shhh a little...”

“Please people are looking Debbie, calm the language-“

“CHARLIE –  MY VAGINA WOULD’VE SPLIT IN TWO BY NOW!”

The show came to an end with rapturous applause and they began handing out shots:

“Hey Charlie, you want one…?”

“Yeah sure! I’m quickly popping to the toilet – back in a second”

I handed over the money and purchased us four each.

But unfortunately I don’t have eight hands so when my date returned…

“Debs – where are the shots?”

My date got some more drinks in…

whilst I posed with my new celebrity circus friends:

We began chatting about Steven, his pet ferret that he’d adopted from a homeless man (amazing) and I explained about Humphrey my pet sausage dog who is imaginary (weird). I was truly warming to Charlie86, then I heard a buzzing in my pocket and rushed to the bathroom:

Charlie Tinder: “Debbie, would love to take you for a drink this evening – I’m away for three weeks after tonight…”

I sat there in the cubicle…

Looking at my bald vagina.

I left the bathroom and began the elaborate lie. I called my housemate the moment he was in earshot:

“OH MY GOD BABE – PLEASE STOP SHOUTING AT ME!!”

“Debbie you called me?”

“LAURA PLEASE – I DIDNT KNOW I HAD YOUR KEY!!?”

“Debbie I’m in the house – are you drunk-”

“STOP SHOUTING AT ME! Look I’ll come home now!’

“Please don’t.”

I hung up the phone.

“Debs what’s going on?”

“I’m gonna have to go, my housemate is locked out and I’ve got her key!”

“Oh, well I had a really nice evening,  I could come back to Balham with you? I don’t want to say goodbye yet…”

The guilt started creeping in – we’d had a lovely evening, but this could be my only chance of happiness.

When you’re single, three weeks and forever are exactly the same.

DON’T JUDGE ME

“Do you mind if we leave it this evening, and do it another time?”

“Oh ok. Well if that’s want you want to do Debs.”

I boarded the train.

Ignoring that little voice which so rarely gets listened to…

And reached Balham.

I was just messaging Charlie to let him know I’d arrived when:

Charlie Tinder: “Debbie, so sorry but packing is taking a little longer, might have to leave it tonight – but have a great evening!”

 

 

Charlie86: “Debs, I know that was the king of brush offs – old mate in distress call so don’t worry about that second date.”

 

 

Cost: Around £20

Dangerous Rating:

10 out of 10 for Barbu!

Romantically however:

You can’t be a player…

 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

DD x