Alison Taylor's big fat dating review of the year…
Article in images

The joys of being bold…


Oh no she didn't? © PHOTOS.COM / Jupiterimages
Oh no she didn't? © PHOTOS.COM / Jupiterimages
I was bold more than a few times this year. The thing about being a Love Fool (as I like to call myself) is that you willingly go where others may fear in the pursuit of ‘what might be’.

The downside? You potentially set yourself up for a fall, or to look like an ass. I like that despite these odds I soldier on, fearless. Well, if not fearlessly then certainly recklessly.

Three examples stick out. First there was Bar Man - the bar man I boldly gave my number to with a little bit of help from my completely inappropriate friends. We'd had a nice little exchange when I was ordering drinks... After that my friends were like dogs with a bone - they could not let it go... 'Just give him your number' Mrs Patz said, while Angels shouting 'yes yes' like she's Meg Ryan in a New York City Deli.

'No, I can't' I say, 'It's too embarrassing, I daren't'. Is it not a horrible cliché cracking onto the barman? Long story short, even though I was under duress I gave him my number (written in eye liner on a club flier - classy I know). We didn’t meet up in the end, but he did he get in touch so there was a bit of excitement.

Plus it was a confidence boost knowing I had the guts to do it (with a little peer pressure from my friends).

This helped with Smiler the man I met a music festival and ended up spending an evening with. Again classily, I'd approached him with a (plastic) glass and opend with ‘Hi, we’re saying cheers to the cute guys we see’... I know, that’s awful, but it worked!

Sort of. It got to the end of the night, Smiler and his mates been hanging out at our camper van and the time seemed right to make a move - so I did, I moved in for a kiss...he stopped me! The shame!

Fortunately all was not lost - we hung out the next day and laughed it off. Since then we’ve seen each other twice socially and are becoming good mates. No bad thing. Plus, he could always change his mind, no? I’m nothing if not charming.

My boldness also snagged me Mr Bale another bloke I met in a bar, this time not the bar man but a punter. Why Mr Bale? Well, he looked something like Christian Bale (at least he did after about five vodkas).

We were eyeing each other up, exchange flirty conspiratol smiles. I was pretty confident, but then he got up to leave with his posse. What to do?

In a moment of madness, I chose to wave at him. Wave?? I ask you!

OK, so it was a coquettish wave, but it was still a wave. Not cool. Anyway against all the odd (did I mention the waving) - he came back in!

He not only came back in but very bravely asked me out. And we went out a week later! It was a good date, he’s now buggered off to South America for a bit but a New Year prospect? Maybe.

Bold, you see. It’s the only way.


Alison Taylor
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