As you all know (because I’ve banged on about it enough), I’m not working at the moment because I’ve broken my arm, so I have way too much time on my hand(s). Fellow online daters will know the pull that dating apps have, and how much of a habit it can be, so it was no surprise that a week ago, I found myself downloading Tinder again and agreeing to go on a first date this weekend.


I told the handful of men I had been speaking to that I’d badly broken my arm and there will be no trampolining/bowling for me for the foreseeable future. Which, of course, is code for doing anything remotely physical. Sure enough, 99% of blokes backed away. Which is fair enough, saves me the trouble of working out what it is exactly they’re after. The only person that didn’t, is someone that said he wasn’t looking for just a fling in his bio, and we have been speaking for the last few days.


However, I have a few… concerns.


1.   He asked me out for a coffee, which is a great first date idea, especially for someone in my ‘situation’. He kindly offered to pick me up but followed that by saying, “That may be overstepping boundaries so let me know where you’d like to meet.“ Which was sweet. Now I don’t live in the middle of a big town so there are only three places that are in walking distance for me where we can get a coffee. Tescos, McDonalds, or Dobbies, the garden centre. None of which are remotely romantic, so it was a case of choosing the best of a bad bunch so yep, we’re meeting at the garden centre. #MightPickUpSomeBulbsWhileImThere


2.  Clothes. I never go ‘all out’ outfit-wise on a first date, and usually wear black jeans, a semi revealing T-shirt and heels, but I’ve been rocking hobo-chic for the last five weeks and the only clothes I can wear are elasticated. I certainly can’t wear a bra, it’s a rare treat if I bother to wear knickers (imagine rushing to the loo and trying to pull down pants one-handed, it rarely ends well) … and I’m really not sure what to wear that doesn’t make me look homeless or pregnant. Or both.


3.  Make up. I haven’t properly worn make-up since the accident, I haven’t needed to, I only ever go to Tescos (FML), and tbh I’m perfectly happy bare-faced. However, when I went on my big day trip to … the local shopping centre with my best friend on Saturday, I attempted to put a bit of make-up on before I went. Have you ever tried applying make-up with your non-dominant hand? It’s ridiculous. I only put the bare minimum on, not bothering with foundation or eyeshadow, and I still managed to look like Pennywise the Clown. Black mascara streaks down both cheeks, lipstick way over my lip line a la me wearing Heather Shimmer in the 80s and in the end I just wiped it all off because I looked like a poor man’s version of Ru Paul.


I’m not making that mistake twice. I’ve called in the big guns, aka my best friend, who has offered to come round on Sunday morning to put my face on for me.


See also … my hair, that is currently only washed once a week and kept in a tight bun on the top of my head, and secured with eleventy billion hair bands so it doesn’t move. I think I will just ask her to brush it out and then hope for the best.


4.  Attempting to look sexy. First dates are about giving a good impression, getting to know each other, a little bit of flirting here and there, body language being key, and the occasional bit of Sharon Stone-esque seductive crossing and uncrossing of legs never goes amiss. Non-commando of course. But I now walk like I’m pregnant. I seem to have adopted a weird side-to-side waddle and having one arm strapped to my chest, I’m surprised I don’t end up walking in circles. Every step I take I’m scared I’m going to fall over, so I’m a bit like Bambi on ice, whilst clutching my arm so it doesn’t move too far from my side. Soooo hot.


And then when I’m sat down, I can never get comfortable so find myself standing up and rocking my hips from side to side as if I’m holding a newborn baby. It is anti-sexy. If you want to know how NOT to act on a first date, come along on Sunday and watch me.


5.  God forbid he attempts to touch any part of my dodgy arm/hand because the skin on there is incredibly dry and no matter how much I exfoliate/moisturise, I have the hand of a lizard.


And they’re just my first thoughts!


Now having said all of this, as we all know, the date might not even happen. There’s plenty of time to be ghosted, and it happens all the time, so all of the above could just be one long moo(t) point, but I will let you know how it goes if he does show. And if he doesn’t, I do need some new garden shears, and they sell strawberry tarts to die for, so all’s not lost.


kate sutton


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Published by Kate Sutton

Writer, Mother, Dater.

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  1. hahaha The images I have are hysterical!! I just wish I lived near!! Hope he does turn up and I hope he’s a good un and you have a great time. If not, like you say, all is not lost if there are delicious tarts (apart from yourself of course) on offer 🙂 Have fun Kate, gawd knows you deserve some xx

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