The IT Guy – Part One

it-guy-0013This will be the last sad story I write for awhile – as I will revert to the deviance chapters of my life to date: those stories make me gleeful and are no doubt less depressing.

The IT Guy is the other male creature (Ref: Mr Northerner) that has had a notable impact on my life. But for all the wrong reasons.

TIG was the one that made me into the distrusting, scorned, generally unimpressed woman that I still am when it comes to men. He showed me what utter pigs men could be for no real, decent reason. I think a lot of women have *this guy* in their past, and he somewhat ruins them for future males due to the complete rotting to the core that takes place in certain respects.

Anyway. My TIG.

I was a lot younger than I am now, in many ways. I’d just broken up with a guy I’d been with for near on 4 years. TIG was a guy I knew (as ever, through “the professional network”) and we’d historically had a few chats and laughs. We had contacts in common as well so sort of orbited around each other in a larger social circle.

He asked me out one day. I said yes. After a couple of weeks we started seeing each other. All was going ok until I heard mutterings on the grapevine that his ex was coming back to the area – predominantly to get back with him. I heard nothing of this from him, naturally. Alarm bells should have started to ring at this point – they didn’t.

After a couple of months, things sort of fizzled out between us as a couple. Apart from the sex. The sex, throughout everything, was brilliant. Sometime after things fizzled out, we started hooking up casually. A lot. Everywhere. At pretty much every opportunity.

However, by this point, unbeknown to me, he’d gotten back with his ex – again, I heard rumblings on the grapevine but was somewhat uninterested in paying attention to them. What did complicate the situation was that his ex returned to working in the same organisation as him, meaning things had to be kept very discreet, especially in our shared circle.

TIG and I continued to hook up. There’s a saying about time being spent with someone, and how that grows emotion. I’d agree with this. By this point we admitted that we loved each other, and I knew he was back with his ex. He wasn’t prepared to rock the boat and risk his relationship with her, following how ours hadn’t worked out. He also claimed that my temper was quite terrifying to be on the end of – a stance he would use extensively in difficult situations with me over the coming…years.

To Be Continued….


The Interview Date: Another First Date Horror Story


This story is one that I look back on and wish I could time travel so I could claim the time wasted on Mr Interview and put it to better use…

We’d met on POF, had talked enough to know that meeting would probably be a good way to spend an evening and so we arranged to meet at a busy London train station.

Within 10 seconds I knew that he wasn’t doing it for me physically, so much so that less than a year later, I can’t remember what he looks like. But unlike my date from the last first date horror story, I’m not rude, so I decided to see it through.

We proceeded to a pub near the station, and as soon as we sat down I felt like I was being interviewed for my next job. He asked a series of questions so quickly that they seemed pre-planned. Every time I gave a response his expression remained completely neutral. If I asked him a question he’d give a one word answer.

Once we’d covered the topics of education, work experience, career, family and financial situation (so rude, I just responded saying that I work), he asked me about my music taste. This portion of the interview consisted of me going through his iPod to tell him what bands we shared in common. I did so, then optimistically expanded on my selection by saying I loved musicals, as well as 80s and 90s cheese.

At this point he put down his drink, looked at me very solemnly and said ‘I don’t feel as though you’re taking this seriously. ‘ He explained that listing his personality as ‘music snob’ wasn’t a joke and he could never be with someone with poor taste in music.

The date wrapped up pretty soon after that. When we get to saying goodbye he asked me, in typical interview style, ‘how do you think that went’, followed by ‘if you’ve been successful I’ll get back to you within 24 hours’

I’ve never been more relieved to not hear from a guy after a date…

Theories on Women

I once briefly saw a man that had several interesting theories on women / relationships. I thought I’d share a few of them :

1) Men and women can’t be just friends. Someone always wants to fuck.

2) Ugly women will do almost anything in bed as they get less action. (Therefore, he was up for picking up ugly women for one night stands.)

3) Monogamy is a lie and isn’t a feasible state for humans, as we are descended from animals, and they are hardly dedicated to a single partner.

He claimed he’d write a book containing all of his theories one day. I’ll be keeping my eye open in Waterstones just in case…

Hello, Goodbye: A first date horror story


I’ve been single for about a year and a half now. For much of that I’ve been signed up to Plenty of Fish, or POF as us unfortunate insiders refer to it. As a result I’ve gone on quite a few first dates, and have many stories of unsuccessful ones. Stand by for more first date horror stories, but for now here’s the first…

I’d been talking to this guy for about a month before we met up. We work in the same industry so had a lot to talk about, shared similar interests, all good reasons to meet up with someone.

He asked me to meet him for coffee after work one day, in a part of London which I prefer to avoid as it takes quite a long time to get there and it has a reputation for being a crime hot spot. Luckily, the coffee shop he wanted to meet me in was just opposite the station, so I felt fairly safe getting there. Just before he turned up I mentioned that I was quite nervous about meeting him (it was one of my first POF meets), he told me to take loads of drugs, as that’s what he does when he’s nervous. He’d never talked about taking drugs before so I assumed he was joking…

He turned up 5 minutes later and I was pleasantly surprised, he was a lot better looking in real life than his pictures had led me to expect! He sat down and we had a good sparky convo for 5 minutes before I asked him if he wanted to get some coffee. He said he had to go make a phone call quickly as his sister was currently in labour, and he just wanted to check if everything was ok.

5 minutes passed…started to think about whether I should get myself a coffee, decided not to as I was sure he’d be back in a second and he’d want a coffee too…

10 minutes…I started to think that it was a long conversation….I hope his sister is ok….

20 minutes…decided to go outside and look for him, looked up and down the street, couldn’t see him, thought maybe he’d gone to buy some cigarettes or something….

Half an hour…decide to consult my older, wiser friend (aka A Scorned Woman #3) on how to proceed…

FUCK, where’s my phone?!
Looked everywhere, it’s gone.
Mind flashes back to the comment about drugs….
Fuck, has he met me, stolen my phone and then run off to sell it for drugs?!

I go to the staff in the coffee shop, tell them in a panic that I think I’ve been robbed and they need to call the police. When pointing out where I was sitting, I spot my phone on the floor! It must’ve dropped off the seat…

45 minutes….I call him and it goes straight to voicemail, at this point I know he’s not coming back

1 hour…I call #3 and explain the situation. She tells me to go home. I do so.

2 hours post disappearance…I get a text from himself, saying he’d run off because I looked exactly like his ex and he’d had a panic attack.

Bullshit, he’d seen enough pictures of me.

Sometimes you meet up with someone and know it’s not going to work straight away. No matter how bad the date is, they’ve given their time. At least stay for one coffee, it’s rude not to.

And that isn’t even the worst of the first date horrors….

“I’m good at sex, a prostitute told me so!”


“You might not like this story”, he opened with ominously, but with a twisted sense of pride that I was already weary of.

“Well don’t tell me then”, I sighed. I meant it as well.

You may already be familiar with who A Scorned Woman #4 refers to as ‘Mr Obsessed’. I also had the misfortune of dating him, luckily my exposure to him was for much less time, but more on that later.

For now, all you need to know is that Mr Obsessed has a penchant for spurting bullshit, and 90% of conversation is him boasting about various ‘fun’ nights out, which quite frankly a normal human would be ashamed of.

Anyway on this occasion he’d decided for some reason, to defend the size (or lack thereof) of his penis to me.

He decided to do this by telling me about a time that he and his friend were completely off their faces, on god knows what, and had decided to visit a brothel. Again, why anyone would tell their new girlfriend this is beyond me, but he was actually genuinely proud!

The story goes that his friend is more well endowed than Mr Obsessed, but had lasted for less time, whereas Mr Obsessed, with his micro penis, had lasted for ages. Apparently the prossie complimented him on how good he was with his stamina, and he thought this was genuinely a good reference that he should pass on to me!

Maybe if her holes were the size of our Lego lady I would’ve believed him…

Not easily distracted by shiny things… Mr Obsessed diaries episode one: The Build Up.

As A Woman Scorned #4 I have had my fair share of boyfriends who find it perfectly acceptable to treat me like an accessory and try and make up for it by buying me accessories. Like I need a reminder?!

I have had a few long-ish term boyfriends who have all in their own unique ways given me a million and one reasons to turn my back on men, just as I was about to I had the privilege of meeting my current boyfriend probably dooming me to the species forever more.

The Mr Obsessed Diaries are a recount of just why I was so nervous to look at another man ever again. An evil Ex.

Mr Obsessed Part 1:
The Build Up.

I had a boyfriend at the time who was 2 months younger than me that I had met in sixth form. We were reasonably happy aside from the jealousy which only escalated when me and Mr Obsessed re-gained contact after a few years of not talking due to life changes for us both. We hardly knew each other anyway.

It was all innocent so I thought. We chatted via social media which progressed to texts and calls which became more and more frequent until I was in way over my head.

There is an age gap North of 10 years and I clearly was in no time of my life to want the things he wanted. Marriage, Children, all that good stuff he had mentioned I tried to shake off. He knew I was in a relationship and almost held it against me to break it up. Not to mention he would take huge advantage of me being drunk and he would hold everything I said that I don’t remember saying as the word of the law.

But it was all so exciting, The thought of an older more mature guy totally into me. Hardly anyone knew we were speaking which made the next episode of this a little scary for everyone involved…