Don't look Black in Anger

Hello,

Well, as the octogenarian said to the gynaecologist; It's been a while.

So over the last 6 months I've continued on a search for 'The one'. Who would have thought that I would hear from someone I first met albeit online last year and this time we actually met in the flesh.

All was going well on the pre-emptive 'getting to know you' emails that re-kindled things. And so the day arrived where we were to meet. We went out and ate but something struck me as a little wrong, she was subdued, quiet, different.

I had to ask and she did eventually tell me - It's because I'm white. I make no secret that I do not take my women like I take my coffee - I take my coffee milky and tepid, I take my women black, hot and strong.

Now, she knew from the off that I am who I am, a white guy who likes black girls but I was her first, I was her experiment and by all accounts she can't do it. It's not my fault, can't help having a melanin deficiency, can't help being me.

And yet, I remain her a little like her little secret. We don't go out, our clandestine meetings take place behind closed doors, there's no PDA's if we happen to wander out into the street.

She's even said to me 'Why can't you just be black!' so clearly I am doing something right and a nice person and good company etc etc etc, I'm just simply the wrong shade. A bit like when you get Homebase to mix you your own paint.

As the now late Michael Jackson of whom she was a fan said 'It don't matter if you're black or white'.....clearly in some eyes...it does.

The Dating Game

For ages 12+
For 2 Players (more if you're feeling adventurous)

Yes that's right folks it's time for another gripping round of..........................The Dating Game!!!! (canned applause)

I have this evening returned from meeting a dear friend who is in love - she probably won't admit it yet but chiding 'It's far too soon to be saying things like that' blah blah blah but I know the signs (if memory serves) and shes smitten.

I'm very pleased for her - totally made up, really. Yes I admit I'm a little jealous - she is, to me, delicious and for a little while been in a similar boat (I rowed she steered - chivalry and all that, what?)

So lets meet tonights lucky contestant..............me

Will it be batchelorette number 1, the tall(er than me) manager of the section next to mine (so no work 'conflict of interests') whose sweet charming and has caught me numerous times gazing at her.

Will it batcheorette number 2 an operator in the section next to me who I suspect think's I'm a bit wierd despite the fact shes the one that was found curled up asleep in the break out area one time - upside dead stamp of Rihanna (ish)

Or how about batchelorette numberr 3? another operator in the section next to me who regularly smiles at me, is cute as a button but also possibly 2/3 my own age.

The choice is yours!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is it bollocks.

Yes of course it is nice to admire the fairer sex - it's a whole different park never mind ball game ensnaring one.

And therein lies the problem, I have no problem meeting talking to and entertaining the opposite sex, so why then am I still single?

A friend of mine is in a similar predicament and hearing of my recent posting on a well known website looking for my princess he convinces me to write him an ad in a similar vein (it wasn't - mine was faaaaaaar better - one sells oneself better don't you find?)

Whilst I am in receipt of several responses and emailing the wheat from the chaff he has a handful of replies. He meets one and I go along albeit at a safe distance as his 'wing man'

After 5 minutes and £10.50 for a brandy and coke in a very swanky west end bar I realise as I savour every last damn drop of this drink that I am surplus to requirements and leave.

5 hours later and my phone rings - it's him and he's dancing like a leprechaun as she's apparently lovely. Git.

So here we go again as all my leads have gone cold and he's quite happy. Hmmph.

I am now in 2 minds as to re-sell myself or just not bother. The saying goes that when you don't look you find but when you look you can't see the wood for the trees. I did oddly have a minor success with lots of smiles and winks exchanged with an absolute HONEY on the Piccadilly line one Saturday afternoon and despite all my efforts to find her, she remains elusive. Bugger.

As a postscript to the above my mate has seen the 'lovely girl' twice and on both occasions he took her out splurged over £100 on the night and she didn't even offer to buy a single round - she was subsequently 'binned'.

So here I sit knowing full well that I will re-post my add, there's plenty more fish in the sea and maybe just maybe I'll hook one for the keep net, but then as they said on Jaws - we're gonna need a bigger boat. I m told that I am 'a catch' but being the fisherman is different. It's a big sea out there and who knows where she's hiding.

One day my princess will come.......I just hope I'm on top of her when she does.

But who was that caped crusader?

Or thats what people would say had I been wearing a cape.

Yes, I'm sorry I'm back in London and obviously very busy with it.

London's changed - a lot. The London I left (see my very first post - it's not too far down I promise) was always summer and warm and pleasant and exciting. The London I'm back to is grimey, miserable and nervous.

It's a sad 'fact of life' that kids these days are being shot/stabbed/beaten left, right and centre. No area these days can be looked on as a safe one and the numbers of kids falling is ever growing.

So you may be surprised - though not half as surprised as I was today when I boarded my Tube on my way home. Some 'yoofs' had decided to have a water fight. I got wet. I saw red.

Next thing I know I'm standing up towering over one of the 'yoofs' forcefully asking what he thought he was playing at. Oddly he didn't seem to hear me so I reiterated my point. He seemed more interested in looking away so I reached into my pocket, pulled out my TfL staff pass rammed it under his nose and asked to see the 'yoofs' Oyster card so that I could confiscate it for the 'yoof' breaching the behavior clause - Ha! no more free travel for you sonny! Much to my annoyance he had a paper ticket which I inspected carefully. I handed it back and quite amazingly they all decided that this was their stop. It blatantly wasn't as I knew know from the ticket where they were going.

I felt good. I felt powerful. I was smiled at by a woman who had obviously been suffering these little pricks since Wimbledon.

But as the title of this post says - Who was that? It really oughtn't have been me. That's not who I am; I'm the timid one that doesn't make eye contact. Not anymore methinks.

Maybe I've found my fire again. In this respect at least.

In other news the civil (relationship) war is over and MCM and I have drawn up peace agreements and while there may still be the occasional resistance uprising, calm is very quickly restored.

MLA continues to grow and astound - she is the cause and solution to most of my problems. The cause as I still hate not being the utopian family unit I wanted for her but solution as she has power more than any medicine. No matter how I'm feeling, even if its euphoric, MLA can make me feel even better.

And now back to my age old whinge.

It's crap being single. I've fished on certain websites and have met and had a handful of dates with a handful of girls. Some were plain, some were dull, some were just plain dull. I am in no doubt that my confidence has grown and I have no problem meeting new people, but I am always left wanting. Wanting for more conversation, wanting for more attention, wanting for more wanting. Some of them I met and there was more spark in a box of damp matches, and I was wondering if I could get away with saying I'd urgently been called back into work - but who needs an urgent reply to a complaint about TfL at 9 pm??

So for now I continue to tread my path alone. Valentines was spent with a certain person and we went to see Zorro. I emplore you to see it - it's wonderful. It was a wonderful night. I had bought the tickets and insisted we were to look good. I went for a haircut and cut-throat shave and came back to slip into my best pin-stripes. Certain person was slinky in satin and we stepped out to the West End. I had the best night in a long time. Someetimes I wonder, what if certain person really is 'a certain person'? God knows how she put up with me at times but always ready with a hug and a kind word - don't get me wrong she can be ready with an unkind word just as quickly but thankfully these aren't as frequent.

I dunno, time will tell I guess - but then maybe it's just too late. Maybe I'm feeling needy. Spring approaches so I will invariably feel the need to make nest at some point. I'm just fed up being/accommodating the cuckoo.

You must excuse me now - I have to restock my utility belt and whip the batmobile down to the Esso garage.