CLASSLESS & TRASHY.

This one, my huns, really is hot off the press. This is the story of Hot American Brad (slight name change, again) and our 7-day whirlwind romance which came to a quite simply catastrophic end just days ago.

After eating two family bags of Minstrels, laying in a hot bath until the water went cold and drinking just enough wine (alone) last night that I have the twinge of a headache this morning, I am officially over it and feel strong enough to tell the tale. So, here goes...

Brad and I matched on Hinge and he opened the conversation immediately with "I'm taking your pretty ass off this app". E N E R G Y. I was wooed in seconds, naturally. After a few hours of 10/10 chat, we moved to WhatsApp. And just two days later, he asked to meet me. He was to-the-point, dynamic, confident, chatty - definitely a potential future husband.

We arranged to meet in Hyde Park and go for a walk/sit by the lake (- he mentioned he was a bit nervous about busy bars/pubs what with the 'rona making a comeback). I know it feels hard to imagine now that we're apparently in the literal grips of winter, but it was SO sunny I decided to go early and catch some of those last Summer rays. After settling down in a deck chair, I sent Brad my location. Cool as a cucumber, guys.

What happened next was clearly a sign from some sort of higher power that I should abort mission and go home, or at least a bad omen. The worlds largest dragonfly flew right up to me and landed mere inches from my face on the side of my deck chair. Cue me having one of the most public meltdowns I've had in some time and running away from the chair leaving my bag, phone and my tins of Vodka, Lime & Soda for dead.

That dragonfly just sat there, sunning his horrible sticky legs and wings FOR AGES. As I stood taking deep breaths (trying to look normal) and kept an eye on my bag from five metres away, I didn't notice Brad arrive and walk up behind me. "Boo!" he says, "hey gorgeous". NOTE: His hot, hot, hot New York accent makes everything this kid says even hotter. FML.

He valiantly collected my belongings from the deck chair (still guarded by the Dragonfly Of Impending Doom) and off we went on the world's loveliest walk-and-talk date. The conversation IRL was even better than WhatsApp and as we walked we moved closer and closer until he put his arm round my shoulders and kept KISSING THE SIDE OF MY HEAD. I felt so smug, as you do when you're a MORON, that this fine specimen of a man was so focused on me.

At the end of the walk (when we'd basically got right round and back to where we started) he didn't hesitate in giving me an earth-shattering snog and we decided to continue the night back at mine for drinks on the balcony. Wahey.

At risk of sounding a little like our old pal Craig David, the week went like this:

Friday - matched on Hinge

Saturday - great WhatsApp chat all day

Sunday - Hyde Park date

Monday - two hour phone call

Tuesday - second date (drinks in West London pub)

Wednesday - he asked me to spend his birthday (Friday) with him

Thursday (daytime) - we were planning Friday; where to eat & drink

Where did it all go wrong, you may be wondering. Well, this is where things take a TURN, to put it lightly.

It was early evening on Thursday and I got a notification from Hinge saying my most compatible had been updated, so I opened the app and, well... say hi to "Charles"...

This hybrid human - someone who's head and body have had a photoshop nightmare and simply don't match - made me really chuckle and I remembered a conversation Brad and I had been having about the worst catfishes on dating apps (hi, Ali also). So I decided to send the very same screenshots to Brad like "Look at this! Lol! x"

I will now type out the EXACT text conversation that followed. I would just ask you to note my impeccable politeness, even in the face of utter madness. I'd also like to flag that if Brad had messaged in this appalling grammatical manner all the way along, we wouldn't have been on any dates. It was like his inner psychopath came out to play, and turns out that he can barely string a sentence together, which makes the whole thing 99% more painful to digest.

B: "what the f u ck. what makes u think i want another n****'s photo in my csmera roll . that so trashy. dude seriously what make u think that funny it not funny at all"

Me: "Oh, wow, sorry. I thought it was funny? And relevant to our conversation the other day! He's photoshopped his head onto another body!!"

B: "it not relavnt to anything ever. i got no respect for that. a girl i met on an app reminding me she on apps. so arrogant u want to remind me u got options. well gues s what me too. i don't wanna see no guys your looking at . why wold i wanna know who else yu talking to?"

Me: "I'm not speaking to him, he's not a real person, he's a catfish - and I'm not arrogant. I honestly thought it was funny, and I'm sorry that this is your reaction. I did not mean to annoy you on this level, I wouldn't have sent it!"

B: "yeh u arrogan t, ignorant, classless n trashy. just stop messaging me dude . and reflect on what an idiot ide a it was to sen me that. i don care if he's real or fake i don't want another n**** pic in my phone. that nasty disgusting behaviour and u disgusting right now for real."

And, scene.

As you can imagine, I totally stopped messaging him, 'dude', and I blocked him. But not before sending him a little life advice about why resorting to name calling makes HIM look ignorant, and explaining that his reaction was VASTLY too aggressive for just a few pics of Charles The Catfish.

I've been called some names before, I'll tell you that, but classless and trashy was a new experience, and happily, it lead me back to one of my favourite Destiny's Child songs of all time. So every cloud has a silver lining, I guess.

I hope that both or either of the two people who make up "Charles" - his head and his body - one day might stumble upon this blog and realise the damage that the poor photoshop efforts caused. IMAGINE. Oh, and shout out to the Dragonfly Of Doom: I'm sorry I didn't receive the warning. L x