“Anye impietie may lawfully be committed in love, which is lawlesse.”
John Lyly, Euphues (1578)
[Some facts below may be fictitious, for the sake of the narrative! ;-)]
Previously, … (and admittedly it’s been again quite a while since my last missive in matters love and war), I told you about Northern-Beaches beauties and dingbats with dictaphones and how dating can bring one to parts of Sydney one never saw (Manly! McMahons Point!) or rarely visits (Chatswood! Newtown!).
I also mentioned how difficult it can be to cut through the crap and outright deception, attempts at scamming, or at least economy with truth writ large, that seem to come with the territory.
A lot has happened since I last updated you. I trust youse have been patiently waiting for this episode. I trust you will not be disappointed.
The belated update is partially due to a brutal encounter with Prague cobble-stones more than five months ago, which took me quite the while to recover from. According to a recent mri scan …
Well, the physio and I decided that non-surgical treatment might be worth a try and so that’s what I’ve been doing, one kinetic and stretching exercise at a time. That guy at the bus-stop, bowing back, kicking fictional soccer balls, etc? Yes, that’s me. Feeling better these days … but still not fully restored.
On the positive side, given the current state of my body I am not tempted to engage in furious jumping which also means that I was not in danger of penile fractures which apparently surge at X-mas. Thankful I dodged that bullet. Good news in the bad, or something.
As you may recall, I was pursuing a couple of promising leads before I left for Europe in mid-June, with one of them having become a regular date of sorts. Alas, while in Europe, she suddenly — out of nowhere — stopped corresponding. And did not respond to messages any longer. At first I worried that something happened to her but then decided there was nothing I could do. And that in any case it probably was just another case of bad manners. Am I too callous?
Alas … once back to Sydney and Melbourne in late September and once halfway back on top of things, I started re-engaging in the dating game. Not that it was my top priority.
A random trickle of women kept contacting me. Actually, folders full of them. It’s a funny game that dating game.
One told me that she is seeing someone and wished me luck but continues to post ever racier pictures of herself (?). She also changed her name from “Judy” to “Eve”. Right. And I am Adam, darling!
Some red-head from the leafy suburbs also contacted me — she seemed quite interesting. One arvo we had a chat on the phone for about half an hour. I learned about her glorious past on the stages of London and New York and her brushes with fame. I thought the conversation was promising and suggested that we give it another try but apparently I failed the audition. She disappeared from the platform I use and never got in touch again. So be it. Sometimes you just have to accept that you are not up to someone else’s standard. ;-)
I also met with another woman from Chatswood who introduced me to a couple of most excellent Japanese places near the Artarmon train station; she’s “made in Shanghai” and it seemed from her platform writing that her English was pretty good. Alas, when we met in person … it took translation software to communicate. Which never ceases to puzzle me. If you move to a country like AU for good and still have some decades to live, why would you not try to learn the language and increase your (dating) options? It seems not a good strategy to just rely on the Chinese diaspora (and Chinese media) here in the land of Oz, no?
All the while a steady trickle of women also contacted me through my Facebook page. Often they do it by just sending a friend request. A sneakier variant is them posting a comment on a public post, telling me how much they like what I share on Facey and that they really would like to become my Facey friend.
Oh, Samual, you pretty thing you. You’re another one going to hell!
Interestingly, many of those contacting me are Asian, invariably good looking, allegedly single, specializing in posting pictures of exquisite food, far-away locations, inspirational thought bubbles, and of course attractive body shots, often featuring impressive assets.
Here’s another such beauty:
Thankfully, I am not a sucker for all that temptation. Sorry, Julia, or whatever your name is. I won’t fall for it.
Rather than wasting my time on these figments of imagination, and scamming attempts, I’ve been hanging out with trusted friends. Mostly female ones. Like my neighbor. Typically we compare notes about our dating experiences, and lament the state of the world (and the building we live in) while finishing a couple of bottles of vino and some good Japanese food. At Hiroya, of course. Also known as Hiromi.
Finally … in a surprise twist, a few days before X-mas I was contacted by the princess from Brizzy. We had a couple of good calls and communications. One of these probably saved her a few hundred k.
You can, as they say, not hurry love. But you can change the odds in your favor. Stay tuned. There will be occasional updates in 2024.
And that’s it for Dating Games issue 10; the next iteration most likely to come when I am back in the land of Oz and ready for further explorations.
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