dating in dublin: a confessional

Being single in Dublin has been really quite interesting. The dating scene here is no different to anywhere in the world, the bars, pubs, clubs and kebab shops are lined with the city’s desperate and dateless come 4 am, and well I guess I’m one of them. Having moved here with the hope of staying permanently, it wasn’t long until I started meeting new people and going on dates. When you move to a new country you try to put yourself out there a little more and do things you wouldn’t normally do. And that’s what I did, put myself out there more than ever before and much to the bemusement of my friends, was just rejected more than ever before.

I suppose it all started in the first two weeks of moving over when I exchanged numbers with a bearded guy I met whilst at work. He had just moved back from spending the last two years in Australia and was suffering the return-to-home blues. He was keen to chat about sunnier places and even keener to move back there. However, being in a similar situation to me, he couldn’t because of visa restrictions. When I jokingly suggested that the solution to both of our problems was to just get hitched, he beamed at the idea. Needless to say, this would heed as a warning sign, unnoticed by me, for what was to come. A few dates and a successful bike purchase later, romance was stopped in its tracks when the wannabe Aussie appeared crying in my front garden at 2 am one night. Though my place was not equipped with them, alarm bells were certainly ringing. Needless to say, he was not seen again.

From comical story to comical story, my love life continued much in the same way for the remainder of the year. It has been full of rejection and embarrassment, mostly on my part, and not many happy endings (pardon the pun). So much so I thought I ought to write down a few of the experiences I’ve had. You see, something about living away from my usual context, ie. the judging eyes of family and friends, meant I started going on dates with people I probably wouldn’t have normally. And the results… funny but kind of disappointing. In the past year I’ve been on dates with someone 5 years older than me and someone 7 years younger than me. I’ve been on a blind date and a group date. I’ve been on an open air cinema date and regular dinner and drinks dates. I’ve had dates crashed by friends and I’ve chaperoned other people’s dates. I’ve had someone bring a surprise married couple to a date and I’ve had a non-date with a friend that turned into a date. I’ve left my phone number for cute bar staff, baristas and random hotties in more places than I’d like to admit. I’ve not been rung up by said “cute bar staff, baristas and random hotties” more times than I’d like to admit. I’ve been broken up with when I wasn’t in a relationship. I’ve been on a ‘date’ with someone who had a girlfriend and had no intention of being on a date with me at all. I’ve been asked out by girls and guys alike. I’ve had outrageous propositions thrust upon me and I’ve had my appearance validated in more ways than one. All that and I’m still single.

Now my Dublin year is coming to an end, I’m probably further away from romantic success than ever before but at least I had a good few free dinners. So here’s to this year, I’ll be 28, fat, broke and living with my parents. It’s unlikely to be the start of a Mills and Boon romance either.

 

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dating in dublin: a confessional

2 thoughts on “dating in dublin: a confessional

  1. Ah, brilliant! Ever since I’ve moved to Dublin I fell in love twice, only to get my heart broken. I was always single but had several weeks of dating with 2 different people, which is a miracle for me, since I find no one interesting enough. One of them smelled bad and I was so paranoid/insecure that I was convinced, for 2 months, that it was me who was stinking! I should’ve called it off the moment he got a warm beer at the bar and he had no balls to ask for a cold one instead. Anyway, I think I scare people off after a while, they often complain I’m too intense *eyeroll* The 2nd one is a hermit and a hurricane at the same time, most beautiful, clever person with a cute Co. Monaghan accent, and I’d bet a million on how he suffers from Schizoid Personality Disorder. There was also a fisherman from Co. Down but he had a tattoo of a crucifix… and he didn’t know who Tarantino is. So, I just said bye after dinner.

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