Tuesday, 3 August 2010

Mullet Boy

So. Whilst I am still deliberating about Diet Coke Boy, I thought it was worth sneaking in some more dating practice earlier this week…

Date no. 10 (yes, I am counting them) is henceforth to be called Mullet Boy. Seriously, he is a broker in the city, and he sports a mullet. Dear lord. A really frizzy one that tufted out so that even when he was looking straight at me, I could see wispy bits of his hair poking out behind his ears. Eeeew.

And, this must be a common theme for the chaps on the dating website I am, he had a seriously effeminate, slightly high pitched voice, much like Canoe Boy. This was not aided by the fact that he joked about how he always "accidentally" orders girlie cocktails and then sat back down at the table with a sweet, coffee coloured concoction in a martini glass with pretty decorations on it. My heart absolutely sank from when he first introduced himself and for the next 5 minutes.

It transpires he hails from Liverpool originally.. And he plays softball, which he joked as being like girlie rounders and not as hardcore as baseball – again, how manly.

All in all, I think it most obvious that Mullet Boy is NOT, repeat NOT, my type or for me for the following immediately obvious reasons:

• Mullet
• Girlie voice
• Girlie drinks
• Girlie sport obsession
• Liverpudlian origin (don't despise me, but I just really struggle with accents – simple fact)

Which is why it is MOST odd that I actually had a fun couple of hours with him, giggled a lot, ended up quite fancying him and would consider going on a 2nd date with him. Hmmm. He was tanned, not too short (5 foot 11), good-looking (bar the barnet), seemed quite sweet and intelligent, was genuinely interested in me, and we chatted a lot about golf (his nickname is Ballesteros), and also the ins and outs of the insurance world (I know, sounds dull, but I actually found it quite stimulating conversation). Do we think I have finally lost the plot and reached absolute heights of desperation, or that there is just no accounting for taste, or that you just never know what might end up floating your boat?! (To clarify though, Mullet Boy won't be a boat floater for me in any sort of long term sense).

Anyway, to shock myself, and no doubt all of you, there might be a date 10b with Mullet Boy.

1 comment:

  1. Okay, word or warning coming up.

    Broker's are high-end sales people. I've dated my way through Icap and Tullets and I can tell you straight that they are all pretty much the same. They will sweep you off your feet, tell you what you want to hear, treat you like a goddess and be perfect gentlemen... then you find out they're married or dating 5 other girls or you're a bet or they're using you to get to your boss for business (true story!)

    I'm not saying don't date him. Heck, milk him for what he's worth! Brokers are the best kind of guys to be wined and dined by. I've managed to score a many high profile dates from brokers. But just because the used-car sales man has given you a test drive in the BMW, don't feel obliged to buy it (if you follow.)