I think if you’re an avid reader of my blog you’ve probably already figured that my approach to dating is a bit… out of the ordinary, or weird, let’s say weird, being weird is cool now right? A Little while ago I went on something I’m now calling a Holidate
, you can probably figure out what I mean on your own but with all the nonsense happening in the world right now I’m sure you have enough on your mind. I went on holiday with a girl from Plenty of Fish I had never ever met. A holiday, a date, a Holidate.
Now if you have any common sense your immediate reaction will probably be along the lines of “WTF dude”, “Say goodbye to your kidneys” and “That’s a dude, you’re going on holiday with a dude called Gary”.
You would be well within your right to say these things though I would probably ask if I could keep a jacket in case I never return. Alas or luckily I lived to write another day. I should probably lay out some context before you all think I’m insanely incognisant. We had talked, well texted for about 6 months before she eventually asked me if I would be up for it, I felt pretty certain she was who she said she was mostly due to the fact Facebook did that creepy friend suggestion thing and I didn’t get the impression she wanted to turn my oh so moisturised self into African skin socks.
Why didn’t I meet up with her beforehand to make sure she wasn’t going to auction my body to a bunch of rich people? Well honestly the whole going on a date idea really didn’t appeal to her so it pretty much killed the urgency, we ended up just having random chats for a few months ranging from questions like “Is monogamy natural?”, “Do you believe in God?”, and “What do you want the most right now?”. Also with the way dating on apps works you tend to have other initial dates lined up so we never got round to it. Oh and before I forget No, Sort of and Ice cream/steak/sex. So after little to no deliberation, predictions from friends as well as work colleagues and a promise to send my Airbnb address to even closer friends we booked our tickets and waited for our flight dates.
Realisation is sobering
On the morning I was due to fly I recall the first words I said to myself out loud. “Oh my god I’m going on holiday with a stranger!!”. It’s like for the first few seconds of consciousness my brain’s in overdrive trying to comprehend the situation I’ve accepted with little to no thought, but then it quickly gets drunk on curiousity, turning my initial concern and foreboding into anticipation and twisted excitement.
Those of us who date can relate to the first time you wait for a person you’ve never met to arrive. A few questions bounce around your head, what will they look like in person, will they be weird, I hope they’re not a tiny person, better not be another creep.
My thoughts on this occasion where a little more focused, along the lines of “just don’t be a dude, you can be weird but just don’t be a freaking dude”.
And then SHE arrived, and a bunch of my concerns vanished, just some, I mean she could still drug me and harvest my kidneys, you don’t have to be a huge mafia thug to do that.
The Holidate: First Night
We arrived at our airbnb flat late in the evening, about an hour later than planned, probably because they had to retape the wings to our flying Ryanair branded bus. Due of this we basically spent the first hour or two hunting for food and getting ready for bed, that should probably end there but I need you to fully understand the situation. We got ready for bed, ONE bed about the size of a small double between us and neither of us remembered our pyjamas. Well… that’s a lie I don’t own pajamas. How could this happen?! Honestly I don’t know what to tell you. We had several flat choices and this just happened to be the cheapest one so we took it, and yes there was a small amount of on and off discussion about the one bed and going away with a dude you’ve never met, which to summarise went something like this,
Me: How did you explain to your friends that it would be fine?
Her: I said I’m strong and I can take you.
To this day I’m not sure she was joking. So back to the bed issue, now some colleagues at work knew it was a one bed scenario and had the idea that it would be more than just a friendly holiday, I disagreed but what do I know right. Nevertheless I didn’t write off the idea that something might happen but it wasn’t in my list of priorities believe it or not. So here I am under these awkward covers, with nothing familiar on me but my boxers and my iPhone, eager to find out if there’s some hidden agenda that didn’t involve my kidneys, and then something happens.
She shows up in this long gown and gets under the covers making all the effort to take it off without exposing any underwear, it was kinda like witnessing someone tug out a bra from the sleeve of a polo neck sweater.
What’s more, I could have brought a friend because I could practically fit one extra person in the gap between us in what was basically a deceiving sofa bed. Honestly none of this was a problem but I did feel a little offended that she had one leg out of the bed like she was ready to leap away if I acted on towards. So being the overly analytical person I am, I deduced there was no lustful agenda and found comfort in the warmth of my iPhone, as I began to drift off I wondered if I was going to wake up in the morning as a skin jacket or in an ice bath with an unfamiliar, unflattering scar.
End of Part 1 of my Holidate, ya that’s right there’s a Holidate Part 2!! Find out why I suddenly start giving relationship advice, get teased about my vertical challenge and ask if it really is that comfortable in the corner of a bed.