Hitting the Dec

I have already cancelled my subscription to Dating Direct. As predicted, none of the women whom I emailed ‘cold’ have replied.

Of course, SELondonlass (Claire) was keen to chat. We exchanged a couple of emails a day for a few days, but by Friday afternoon, I realised that we were going nowhere. I had established that she ticked very few of the boxes that I want ticked: she hasn’t travelled, hasn’t been to university, doesn’t have her own place, doesn’t have a great job and isn’t sporty (yes I know, I’m too fussy). Now while none of these is a deal-breaker in isolation, when combined with my previous, even more shallow, reservation (see 10/09), I realised that the most I wanted from Claire was friendship (she might have a nice mate, after all).

Claire’s replies to my’psychometric profiling test’ were the final straw. It’s something I’ve tried a few times, and the women with whom I am really connecting, lap it up (Stan, with whom I had amazing online chemistry, even sent me her own set of questions). Basically, I just send 10 random questions (such as ‘ketchup or brown sauce?’ and ‘Ant or Dec?’) and ask the woman to pick one. There are no right or wrong answers. It’s just a bit of fun – and the reasons are often entertaining. Anyway, not only did Claire answer either ‘both’ or give an option not provided (‘mayonnaise’ to the sauce question, for example), but she revealed a hatred for the royal family (which I can just about accept, although I find it highly objectionable), but also for Ant and Dec (which I find equally objectionable and can’t accept). When she ended her email by asking me my ‘porn name’ (one of the least amusing and most pointless diversions I have ever heard – it’s Goldie Jackson, by the way), I decided that I had wasted enough time on Claire.