The Politician

I’m politically minded. I find politics incredible. And people who use their political influence to inspire change are exactly the type of person for me.

So when the politician approached me on a popular dating site, I was intrigued.

He didn’t describe himself as a “politician” but a civil servant. It was only after several days talking that his true identity was made clear.

So the thing that encouraged me to first talk to this guy was his ethics. He seemed almost exactly aligned with me ethically and moralistically (this doesn’t happen often) so we started chatting.

As my dating life continues. I’m becoming more and more cautious as to how people present themselves via typing. I naively believe that everyone is as open, and honest as me in their words. So my new strategy is to get them on the phone as soon as possible and start chatting.

This worked in The Politicians favor as he quickly became a lot more interesting during our phone conversations. He was passionate about so many topics and was well travelled. We ended up talking for about 2 hours on our first conversation.

We spoke for 3 hours the next day, then 4, etc.

we instantly connected and I really enjoyed chatting to him.

He told me as much as he could about the work he was doing. I waxed lyrical about my (comparatively boring) life.

But the more we talked, the more there were warning bells. No he wasn’t a sexual deviant (shockingly). He wasn’t into drugs or gang bangs. He didn’t have a kinky side that had ethical consent issues. No dear reader….He liked to bake!!!

Now I don’t object to a man liking to cook or bake. I firmly encourage it (considering my love of all foods). However, the politician described in depth the kind of cake he would make for any occasion.

I would tell him something shit/good/ tragic/funny and he would come up with lines such as “this calls for a “buttercream Sunday cake” or “it really sounds like Kim needs a coffee cake today!!” (I hate coffee for the record, but he never listened to that!!).

He also listed” Great British Bake Off” (a Show I actually cannot stand) as possibly on of his fav summer highlights. I simply hate the show. If anyone is watching it, I just walk out. I have nothing against cakes (as we’ve discussed), but I don’t find it realistic or life changing to watch a bunch of people all baking the same cake in unrealistic time constraints.

I also hate Mary Berry. Well not her exactly (she seems like a lovely lady), but I hate the way she eats. As a fork comes close to her mouth, her tongue darts out like a lizard to taste the food before it’s even close to her lips. It just reminds me of something from Jurassic Park and I can’t watch anything with her and food.

I know she is the nations favourite grandma, but I just can’t. Sorry Mary.

So the Politician has voted himself the best hugger in London and keeps sending me messages about his “big strong muscles” giving me a hug.

His obsession with hugging me with his “big strong muscles” Defo screamed of someone with an issue with their body (or mind). He was probably complimented by a girl once about his muscles and has never moved past that compliment… awkwardly Making it part of his identity.

So apart from the cake and muscle “obsession”, I decide to meet him anyway.

I usually go to my fav eatery but this time we met at my local pub because I needed to rush home quickly mid “date” to do something.

So he rocks up early (impressed), and calls me to ask if he can get me a cider (see…he has been paying attention). I declined and said I would be there soon.

Now, I’m not adverse to a guy buying me a drink at all (it’s almost as rare as a unicorn for me), but I do object to not seeing my drink being poured if I don’t know someone. I’ve had something slipped into my drink before and ended up in hospital so if I can’t see my drink being made, I won’t have it.

When I arrive at the pub, he’s visibly breathtaken by my appearance (it was a good hair day day reader!!). I’m not arrogant, or narcissistic, or vain in any way. But to have never previously had such a reaction as you walk into a room, this man was doing well. I felt like Ursula Andress walking out of the sea in “Bond”.

He then went in for a hug (with his big strong muscles) and he’s right. He wasn’t lying about that. He has bloody strong muscles that held me in such a bear hug grip that the next day. I noticed my chest was bruised!!!

So the “date” is going swimmingly but he’s not as interesting as I first thought. We may have made the mistake of getting to know each other a little “too well” over the phone that my conversation skills are lacking…. or my interest is lacking. I’m not sure which. But I’m now bored…… and he’s talking about cake again.

He also goes in for a kiss a little too soon. I’m all for kissing and pda, and demand to be ravaged whenever possible (in a clean and wholesome way as this is a family blog). But when I’ve already mentally checked out of the date, and clearly not that interested, his forwardness irked me.

Thankfully I get my call, and I have to rush home to deal with something quickly. I promised him I would return. Why I hear you ask? I just don’t know, but I had promised to return. So I formulate a new plan to get me the hell out of the date as soon as possible.

I return to the pub with my dog Chaplin. Chaplin is a gentle soul but he is easily spooked around big guys. So I knew that he wouldn’t do so well with an over enthusiastic politician wanting to give him a hug.

Within 4 minutes of returning, the dog and I had to leave (thanks for having my back Chaplin) and I bid adieu to The Politician.

He did become a little needy/obsessive messaging and calling me super frequently after having the “best time”. I actually had to send him a message saying it was all becoming a little bit much for me and I needed to focus on my career rather than dating.

He would still send me random “cake” pictures every now and then but thankfully that has fizzled out also.

And as I have cake for breakfast, I’ll occasionally think about him and wonder if his bragging about baking were anywhere near as truthful as his “big, strong, muscles” claim.

Let them have cake….. didn’t like it!!!