Budget Breakfast

I have been delving into New Age philosophy and meditation and so, on my dating site profile I specify, no Christian men, but certainly spiritual. Also I have been out with a few Afrikaans men and they are certainly not keen on my independence and I specify that English as home-language is non-negotiable. This cuts out a large slice of the traditional pie which I assume greatly narrows the field.

I get a request from a man to “chat”.


His profile pic is under lock and key.

Why would a man do that?


Is he hiding because he’s high profile and one may recognize him? Is he shy and protecting himself from hoards of sexually frustrated women?

Is he arrogant?

Is he wanted by the authorities? 

Whichever it is, he sends me a few formal pictures of himself in a suit and we start the process. His English isn’t good, he rates himself as very attractive (I would say average, but he obviously has a great self esteem), he’s apparently well educated and wealthy…ok, we’re off to a good start. I notice and ignore the tick at the conservative politics block, the fact that I find out that he isn’t Russian but Afrikaans and that he has a hotmail e-mail address. A little light goes on in my brain when a non-descript hotmail or gmail address is used although I understand that anyone would protect themselves from the thousands of crazy people out there.

Ok, so I understand that he hasn’t a clue in this area and change tack, busying myself with toast and butter.

He may have got the wrong impression on the outset when I said “yes, oooh yes, lets sit in a cubicle, I LOVE a cubicle!”

As I turn to him his Apple i-pad is aloft and clicks with a corresponding flash of light in my face.
I’m curious about his upbringing and the fact that he hasn’t found someone suitable in the twenty years since his divorce. I get as a reply the list of cars he owns and the number of international properties he’s bought. I press on and ask about his spiritual convictions, which are to be expected, traditionally Afrikaans.


What do you say to that? He needs it for my cell number, he says, but I realize that he must have some serious boundary issues and I’m starting to feel decidedly uncomfortable.

“On the contrary Piet, I’m more New Age in my approach. Have you heard of Eckard Tolle?”
“Well then, don’t read to me out of the Quran!”, he spits, getting agitated.

“I was, but am deleting my facebook profile soon, it’s rubbish!”
“I have a moffie, called Casper de Vries as my friend and I don’t even know him, and yesterday I see some Nigger is there as well!”


As I started my car he parted with, “You know, the older you get the more difficult it’s going to be to find someone, I hope I see you soon.”
I drove out feeling a little rattled, enough to pull into a mall close to home - just in case.
I parked and sat for thirty minutes. I had to smile.

We meet and happily greet at a popular coffee shop and as we sit in the cubicle he pats the seat next to him. I ignore the “pat” and sit where I’m comfortable opposite him. It’s awkward, let’s face it, but I’m open and confident and start chatting about kids, jobs and the weather when he grabs my hand. I’m a bit taken aback and smile politely under his pressing fingers, he’s obviously nervous, the tiny beads of moisture on his lip a dead give-away. I ever so gently extract my hand in the search for a tissue and with two hands dab at my chilly nose.

“Piet, did you have a look at my non-negotiable boxes on my profile? I’m not a Christian and this fundamental difference is not conducive to a great relationship, don’t you think?”
“As long as you aren’t a bible puncher then I’m happy” he replies.
As soon as my hand is free he again grabs it and starts milking my fingers urgently, breathing loudly. He has an odd look on his face, as if he’s trying to tell me something with his eyes? I’m not quite sure where this is going but he does and takes my hand under the table onto his knee. Luckily I didn’t sit on his “pat” – I now have clarity and a disturbing vision of what he was intending, had I been sitting any closer.

I extract my hand yet again and bleat pathetically, “are you on facebook?”, gathering my bag to myself, packing up, indicating that I was done.

His answer coincided with a sharp lifting of his arm to call for the bill.
We walked out stiffly, the tension cloud following us all the way to my car.
I thanked him politely for the breakfast and offered an Italian hug.
He accepted the hug and took a feel of my bum!
I was in two minds. Should I burst out laughing or should I scream. Neither.
The sms read “Dear Piet, you are a lovely man and I’m sure you’ll find a suitable partner soon. Thank you for the breakfast. Fundamentally I think we are too different for any lasting relationship to develop. Good Luck. M”


I laughed at my mom who follows the journey with great interest.
“Well, who can blame him, he was trying to get something that he’d normally pay a thousand rand a pop for…..all for the price of a budget breakfast!”

....Single and Dating

Being on “the other side” of a long marriage or single and middle-aged is daunting and takes a bit of getting used to.
The relief and joy of freedom mixed with the fear of the unknown makes for a heady cocktail that lifts and drops the emotions at will.

You only have to look at the on-line dating sites to realize that the need for companionship and connection is a primal and essential part of being human.

There is a language one has to learn. There are signs that at first you’ll miss and code words that only the initiated understand. “Come to my place for coffee?” implies sex after supper, and then also not for everyone. It’s confusing to say the least. “I bumped into Jenny the other day”, said with a wry smile and apparently they had “a sexual encounter”.

“Do you follow the British or the American model?” Confused? Yes, so was I. The British way is to stick with one partner sexually until the relationship is done, and the American way is to make the most of any sexual encounter you’d like to while still officially “dating” the partner.

Whether or not this is official, it was a good way for him to brooch the subject.

“Do you know your status?” does not imply single or married, but positive or negative.

Words like “window period” and “protection” are loaded and can keep you up on the balmiest of nights, sweating with fear when you could be dreaming of Eros.

When a couple is asking after B&D they certainly aren’t looking for Black ‘n Decker but bondage and discipline.

Everyone with their history and reference framework trying to find a suitable match, is like trying to throw two curveballs and hoping they hit each other somewhere in mid-air.

“Lets do something Crazy?” for me may mean opening all the cars windows on the highway at 120KM/h, while for you it may mean “shooting up” in a public toilet. “Explain to me how that will work”, becomes a great key to opening up the pictures in someone else’s mind.
Never ever say to a man “are you up for it?”. Whatever you meant doesn’t apply. He will come towards you quickly, breathing heavily or he’ll run away and you’ll never coax him back.
There are so many places to research my new single status and what with “tips for women”, blind dates, on-line-dating and speed dating one would rather up in a fetal position.

Where do I go to meet people, to dance, laugh, chat, flirt, stand in a thick crowd of people, smiling with a drink in my hand ?
Would I be considered a senior? Apparently then the rules are a little different and you can say “I like you can we do coffee?”  Too direct?

I have been to my local gym sweating it out on the spinning bike making all the appropriate noises. I have done 10 perfect pikes on the ball and 20 impressive pushups in studio1 – yes, the one with the big windows!

I have done slow and saucy side-bends on a vibrating power plate until my eyes want to pop out, and that right next to the most beautifully toned and seemingly blind men!

Am I trying too hard?

You think?

Well, maybe just a little.

Arm-wrestling on the counter in a desperate attempt to hold someone’s hand is just too pitiful.

I resign myself to singledom, along with thousands of other lonely people and give it a rest. I act as if I’m happy alone but with a gnawing need for companionship in the pit of my stomach, or is that my heart?