After four months of exchanging messages, I managed to persuade a 52-year-old gentleman to finally meet and he opened our conversation with five complaints.
They say that the anticipation of an event is often more thrilling than the event itself. In Emily’s case, the waiting stretched out for almost four months, becoming an endless online drama with daily episodes.
During that time, she learned Simons preferences down to the tiniest detail, memorised the names of his childhood friends, and even stopped raising an eyebrow at his habit of ending every good morning with three ellipses.
Emily was forty-fivethe age when you head off to a date not with trembling nerves, but with a wry curiosity of a researcher. Lets see what specimen turns up this time, she thought as she got ready.
She was the sort of woman who could wear a plain cashmere jumper and look as though it were royal regalia, with a self-deprecating wit sharp enough to defuse any awkward moment.
Simon, whod just turned fifty-two, came across in his messages as serious, thoughtful, a tad sardonic, andwhat won Emily overreliable.
At our age, Emily, Simon had written on late evenings, people seek comfort, not fireworks. I want to be with a woman who understands without words.
Without words it is, then, Emily smirked, dabbing mascara. As long as the words that do get spoken dont make me want to bolt for the door.
They arranged the meeting at a small, cosy café, its lights warm and the air smelling of cinnamon. Emily arrived on timecomposed, confident, hoping for a pleasant evening. She looked impeccable.
Simon showed up five minutes later. In person, he was a bit shorter than the photos suggested, and his gaze was that of a man whod just found a glaring mistake in a balance sheet.
He sat across from her, flashed a brief smile, and greeted her. No compliment, no warm good to meet younothing.
Simon scrutinised Emily, as if conducting some sort of inspection. Then suggested they order coffee and dessertwhich they did.
Emily, he began, in the tone of a deputy head before a staff meeting, Ive spent a lot of time analysing our communication. Almost four months. Now, seeing you in person, I think its important to clarify some things. I have five issues with you.
Inside, something quietly shattered in hera good mood gone in an instant. Emily rested her chin on her palm and nodded with a half-smile.
Five issues? Thats intriguing. Go on, Im listening.
Simon missed the sarcasm and raised his first finger.
One of your pictureswhere youre in a blue dressyour figure seemed different. I see now youre more curvy. That can mislead a man. At our age, a woman should be more honest.
Emily couldnt help but internally smirk. Curvyprogress, at least. Better than monumental.
Second complaint: reply times.
You reply to messages too slowly at times. For instance, three weeks ago I texted at 2:15, and you replied at 4:40. Men dont like waiting. Its disrespectful.
I think I was in a meeting then she started, but Simon was already ticking off his next point.
Third complaint: choice of venue.
Why are we here? This place is too fancy. I suggested a simpler café. Choosing this tells me you lean towards showiness.
Emily eyed her latte and caught herself wanting to pour it over Simons head. Curiosity, however, got the better of her.
Why that dress? Were just having coffee. Its rather bold for daytime. The jewellery is unnecessary. A woman should attract by depth, not by sparkle. Im at an age where I value substance, not shop window.
Fourth complaint: independence.
You picked the restaurant, always saying I did this myself. You dont allow a man to feel like a man. I want a woman who asks for advice, not flaunts her independence. If were together, youll need to reconsider your habits.
He finished and folded his arms, clearly expecting either guilt or gratitude for his candour.
Emily looked at him and suddenly realised: those four months of chatting had only masked a rigid manipulator. He wasnt after warmthhe wanted an agreeable ego-booster.
You know, Simon, she replied gently, almost affectionately, Ive done some analysing myself. Five minutes was enough for my conclusion.
Oh? And whats that? Simon squinted.
Youre quite a specimen. You crossed the city to invoice a woman youre meeting for the first time on her taste, appearance, and her right to be herself. Thats a rare level of self-assurance.
Simon frowned. Im just being honest.
No, Emily shook her head. Youre not honest. Youre unhappy and trying to measure the world with a warped ruler. Dont like my photos? Visit a museumexhibits there never change. My reply speed bothers you? Get yourself a Tamagotchi. Dont like the dress? I wore it for me, not for you.
She stood up, adjusted her handbag, and looked calmly at him.
And lastlyif your ego trips over the word independent, you need therapy, not romance. At forty-five, I value my time too much to spend it on someone who starts an introduction by auditing my shortcomings.
Where are you going? What about the coffee? Simon muttered.
Youll finish it yourself. Thatll help you conserve your resources. And heres a tip: if you want people hanging on your every word, book an appointment with the dentist.
Back at home, Emily immediately blocked Simon on every messaging app. For herat her agepeace isnt just a warm blanket and quiet, but also a phone without people trying to shoehorn her into their crooked mould.
Reflecting on it, I realise that sometimes a lengthy online flirtation is just a rehearsal for disappointment, and if someone starts tallying up your faults from the very first meeting, its best to walk away. Ive learnt that respecting yourself means not letting anyone make you pay a price for simply being you.
