Suspicious minds

I think I might have my first genuine Rules success story. Which, of course, I promptly tried to sabotage.

So I met the Triathlete on Saturday night after a friend’s birthday party in Shoreditch. He took me to a posh cocktail bar (2 dirty martinis) and then I took him to a dive bar that feels like you’re sitting in your uncle’s living room (3 bottles of beer).

He’s just SO NICE. And so polite! And so attractive! And he constantly compliments me! And he plays with my hair without any prompting whatsoever! It’s all “after you” and “you look beautiful” and “I’m going to place my hand on the small of your back in a comforting, chivalrous fashion” (he obviously doesn’t verbalize the last bit). All of which, of course, makes me highly suspicious.

In the entire run-up to the second date, I’ve been telling everyone who will listen that the Triathlete is undoubtedly a lunatic and that I will probably end up cut into pieces and stored in his freezer. All because he’s been so keen. Ironically, this is the desired result when doing The Rules. Men are meant to be tripping over themselves to get your attention and going out of their way to treat you well. Apparently, for me, this is the hallmark of a psychopath.

Anyway, he suggested we go back to my house and drink bourbon. Aha! I thought. There’s the catch – he’s just using me for sex! But considering how long it had been since I’d had sex (we’re talking a couple of months here), how ridiculously, young-Daniel-Craig hot he is and how much I’d had to drink, I was more than happy to go along with it. And yes, I know I was meant to wait another date but technically we were meant to go out Tuesday so I’m counting this as date number 2.5. Also, give me a break.

I did, however, manage to have a pretty massive meltdown before:

Me, gimlet-eyed in my living room: “If this is just going to be a one time thing, that’s totally fine but don’t bullshit me and say otherwise.”

“Actually, regardless of what happens tonight I’d really like to see you again.”

“Okay…. But don’t bullshit me. I mean, don’t just put on this whole Mr. Lovely show for the purpose of getting me into bed.”

“I’m not bullshitting you. This is just how I am.”

“Hmm. Okay….”

And then, when he told me he was going to go home because he wanted to have a lie-in the next day (he gets up at 5:15am every day for work so it’s kind of understandable):
Me, incandescent with rage and indignation: “I can’t believe you’re leaving. It’s just not on.”

“But you have that early morning training session! And I just want to wake up in my own bed. Not that it’s not lovely here.”

“Well! It’s fine if you want to go but if you do, I don’t want to see you again.”

“But I’d like to see you again. Also, I don’t really like ultimatums. I wouldn’t want to stay because of one.”

“Well. I’m just saying that if you don’t want to see me again and if this was a one-time thing, fine. But don’t bullshit me.”

“Seriously, I want to see you again. I think we’re both just overthinking things. Let’s go out again when you’re back from holiday.”

“Okay….”

When he finally left my bedroom I didn’t hear him leave the flat and I became instantly convinced that he was going to steal my wallet (despite the fact that I had about £2.35 on me and he makes a fair wedge of cash). I put on a giant yellow dressing gown and went into the living room to retrieve it, realizing on the way that he was just in the bathroom.

“Shit!” I thought and tried to scurry back to my room unseen, bag clutched to my chest. I ran smack into him as he came out of the bathroom.

“Hello,” he said, surprised.

“Hello,” I mumbled.

I walked him to the door.

“Okay, well, bye.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Yep, okay….”

“I will!”

I woke up the next morning feeling as though I’d had an out of body experience. I went into the kitchen to make coffee and eat peanut butter and my flatmate soon stirred. I relayed my insane ramblings to her.

“Oh, well. We’ve all done it. But I think you need to accept the fact that he’s not a psychopath Maybe he just likes you! Text him later on and make a joke of it.”

But I didn’t need to: he texted a few moments later to say he’d had a great night and was looking forward to seeing me again. He even apologized for the “overthinking” (despite the fact the insanity was obviously, unequivocally, 100% my fault).

So for now I’m going to try to accept the fact that he isn’t a psychopath and isn’t planning on dismembering me. And, even more gallingly, I’m going to try to accept the fact that in this case, The Rules have worked. I’ve been distant with him, I’ve not contacted him or pursued him, I’ve been tricky to make plans with and often unavailable. In short, I’ve been a royal pain in the ass. But he’s keen.

Hmm.

I’m off on holiday for a week but will try to post a couple of times when I’m away. Oh, and the next book will soon be revealed! The Rules tyranny is almost over!

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7 Comments »

 
  • Frances says:

    Ok. So, is poor triathelete going to continue to be subjected to the Rules? Or will it be the next dating guide. Or will you just be yourself around him now? So many questions, doll.

  • Meows says:

    1) Please do send the Triathlete this way when you are done with him.
    2) Please don’t take too long.
    3) I am rather sad that The Rules is almost over. I did read it, but really wasn’t able to put it into practice as much as I had hoped. This was partly because I was not good at putting the Rules into practice and partly because there just were not any boys that I was even remotely interested in putting that much effort into. (There’s so much to say about The Rules, but my favorite part was the how to use the Rules when you are in High School part–really, High School?!?)
    4) However, I can’t wait to see what the next book is! I am already anticipating the awkward interaction with library man….

    • Love by the Book says:

      Well, the Triathlete may not be all he seems… but happy to share him out if he’s still around. I think every woman deserves a bit of Triathlete.
      My favourite part of The Rules was the bit where it insisted that if you were in an abusive relationship, it was because you hadn’t been following The Rules. Yeah, take that battered wives! It’s all your fault because you rang him that one time 6 years ago!
      The next book is brilliant – will be much more fun, I promise!

  • Ginger says:

    Love your blog! Can’t wait to see how your relationship with Triathlete plays out!!

 

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