Dating in Sydney can be so much fun, with all the amazing venues, activities and suburbs each date stands to be more different in so many ways from the last.
Spoilt for choice is pretty apt, with all the activities to choose from in this amazing city, sometimes it’s just nice to meet up with a date over a quiet drink in an atmospheric bar after work.
On this particular occasion the said location was the Shelbourne Hotel on Market Street, I’d arranged to meet up with a cute Irish guy that I had been texting back and forth whilst travelling in SA. Upon my return to Sydney we arranged to meet for a drink on a quiet Wednesday evening.
I’d met him when he’d been trying to sell me a hairdressing voucher (yes he was one of those annoying people who pester anyone with hair in the CBD) he happened to be quite cute and the deal was quite good, so I bought one from him. I figured that it was a good deal and a clever way to give him my number (always thinking).
So it was the weekend before we were due to go out and I decided to go to my first Sydney festival with a few of my girlfriends and their friends. There I got talking to a lovely Aussie chic for a short while, who was a friend of a friend, we made small talk and she asked what I was up to in the week. I explained that I was going to get my hair done and then had a ‘date’.
She seemed to have a vast knowledge of Sydney hairdressing salons and proceeded to ask me where I was going. I explained and she asked if I’d got it off one of the sales guys from Pitt Street, to which I replied “yes”.
The interrogation then followed, was he Irish, “yes”, did he have brown hair, “yes”, was his name Darren*, “yes”. It only turns out that my date happened to be her ex fella that she split up with him two days before getting with her new fella (who happened to be very good mates with my Bessie!)
So I explained that I had arranged to meet him after getting my hair done and that I would cancel if it would be awkward at all. She was very determined in the fact that I shouldn’t cancel and that she was with a new guy now and very happy.
Wednesday came by before I knew it, brand new hair cut, new dress and feeling quite good about myself.
We met in the Shelbourne and we had instant chemistry, drinks were flowing and we’d arranged to meet up again on at least three dates (was looking good). We even had a cheeky kiss before the chatter turned to the previous weekend, he asked where I’d been and I explained I’d been to the festival with my friends. He asked which friends, I told him and decided to not omit the name of his ex, Annabel*, as didn’t want to be deceitful.
He didn’t pick up on it, so we carried on chatting about the week, my hair etc. He asked who had done my hair, I explained and low and behold it turned out that he actually lived with her, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, small world.
So I innocently asked how long he’d been living with Annabel for… yes I said the wrong name. He twigged straight away and mentioned that he had noticed that I’d said that name before.
Sensing I was digging myself into a hole, I innocently said, “It’s so weird you should say that as Annabel did say her ex used to work for your salon, but I thought that there was no chance it could be you.”
So the interrogation began with the 20 questions, “Is she Australian?” “Does she live in Coogee?” “Does she have brown hair?” I answered all the questions “yes!”
To which we agreed it was the same person, reality hit home.
Darren proceeded to tell me that; yes it was his ex, his ex… FIANCEE! Who he was with for NINE years! Annabel had neglected to tell me that little nugget of information.
He then excused himself to go to the bathroom, visibly upset. He left me to ponder the situation I’d managed to get myself into, I had only myself to blame.
Ten minutes later he appeared rather sheepishly at the table with red puffy eyes (quite obvious he’s been blubbing in the bathroom). He proceeded to ask me if she was happy, to which I responded, “I’m not going to lie to you, yes she is.” Not exactly the answer he was looking for.
I then received what can only be described as a monologue of clichés and cringe factor announcements that would make any woman’s blood run cold: “I’ve got to be completely honest with you here, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about Annabel and wish that I was still with her. She was/ is the love of my life and I miss her every second.
“I think you’re an amazing girl and I was looking forward to seeing you again, and I do think that is this wasn’t the situation I’d definitely want to see you again. But as you’re friends with Annabel and she’s in your circle of friends, I just can’t continue with this. With this in mind I’m going to go.”
And he did, he left me on my own in the Shelbourne with a bottle of wine and a somewhat confused and rejected expression on my face.
Note to self – Don’t go on dates with guys who have just broken up with their girlfriends who happen to be a friend of a friend!