The Dating Game

In a move to improve my exercise regime, which brings with it many benefits, GJ Strachan is contemplating purchasing a heavy duty punchbag. Preferably one around six foot in height with ground-based footings and of robust constitution.

Blimey, while articulating the previous sentence, it felt like yours truly was penning a half-assed lonely-hearts ad….. That being said, although I do prefer my women to have their feet on the floor (not their head in the clouds) and display a strong constitution, height shouldn’t be an issue.

I’ve never sought a relationship through the more popular dating conduits. For example, I’ve never tried the newish fad of attracting a suitor via speed dating.

The nearest this author’s been to was during my teens. A time when relationships tended to nosedive after 15 minutes of questioning a girl about incidents in last week’s football TV show Match of the Day.

I was never comfortable in the company of girls/women until my 30’s. Instead of being the jocular fella which my persona exhibited in male company, yours truly’s lack of confidence in female company was crushingly awkward.

This coyness not aided by the fact I was quite skinny, sometimes wore specs and couldn’t say the word ‘moist’ without becoming a stammering wreck. The latter something I thankfully grew out of in my twenties.

My only speech impediment these days is an inability to say the word ‘thistle’ without a whistling through my teeth. A tic which momentarily makes me sound like a boiling kettle.

The fact I received a very strict upbringing also made waves when forming a relationship as a teenager. I was taught sex before marriage was evil, and also warned about not watching neighbours undress through binoculars. 

The latter not an act I indulged in, I hasten to add… Well, not after my mum hid my binoculars anyhow.

My interest in girls tainted further in my fledgling years when advised a woman’s genitals were laced with sharp teeth. 

On eventually witnessing a ladies bits for the first time, the absence of gnashers leading me to conclude I’d been lied to. Either that or the girl followed lax dental practises and they’d fallen out.

Such misinformation leading to boyhood relationships being fleeting and awkward. 

I did once date a girl who’d been indoctrinated with similar strange ideologies on physical relationships… I’d been taught sex before marriage was wrong; she told sex before breakfast was immoral.

As alluded to above, despite meeting my now estranged wife at 19, I was never truly comfortable in female company until my 30s/40s. At that juncture I learned, although men are from Mars and women are from Venus, the two can cohabit on some level without constant recourse to tread on eggshells.

I met my current beau, Sarah, when we were digging graves in a local church yard. The work wasn’t our occupation, we just shared the same macabre hobby. 

It was love at first dig; our eyes meeting timidly as she excavated the head of the grave, me the foot.

After an amicable few hour of removing soil and talking about last week’s Match of the Day, we swapped telephone numbers before going our separate ways…They weren’t our telephone numbers, but it was a start.

I was so smitten with Sarah her opining Leeds striker Patrick Bamford’s goal against Brighton was offside was shrugged aside without retaliatory comment… She escaping the defensive rant I’d usually afford a critic of my football team.

Anyhow, eventually we met again and started dating in January 2022 (that’s Sarah, not Patrick Bamford) and have been together for 18 months through thick and thin…… Mostly thick!

These days I engage with people of both sexes in the same manner.

As alluded to earlier, I’m not a fan of dating sites. If single, preferring instead to get to know a person directly through social media, face to face or digging graves. 

My moral compass parameters for gauging if a potential beau being interested is if they’ve not taken out a restraining order on me within three hours, I’ve cracked it!

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