Single in Sydney: Sarah’s struck by a dose of irony when the OKCupid guy turns weird over talking on the phone

ISN’T it ironic? Sarah’s latest experience trying to reach the ‘let’s chat by phone’ stage with a guy she pinged on OKCupid leaves her wanting to advise him to ‘chill the hell out’.

Sarah’s latest attempt to reach the ‘talking on the phone’ stage turned her potential date in a pestering texter.

• Sarah drags herself from her sickbed for a date
• The future of dating is robotic
• Where did the blokes go?

JOURNALIST Sarah Swain has been single (but dating) for longer than she cares to remember. That’s because it’s tough out there, as any single will tell you, so to bring hope to others across the city, she’s sharing her no-holds-barred adventures on the Sydney single scene every week

Isn’t it ironic

IF this was the ‘90s Alanis Morissette would have said it was ironic.

But it’s not — and I say it’s absolutely bloody typical (And whatever happened to Alanis anyway?)

Whatever happened to Alanis Morissette anyway? Picture: AFP

You see this week, in a situation more typical than a random TV presenter running for political office, the one person I wanted to text me didn’t — while some total blooming weirdo from online dating didn’t stop.

Let’s start with the total blooming weirdo (TBW).

I confess it was me who started chatting to him on OKCupid.

His photo looked quite nice — even though he was in Brisbane — and he liked Doctor Who and seemed to be quite funny.

But the alarm bells should really have been deafening when he suggested meeting up after about the third message.

In fact he got into quite a tizz about it.

“I could fly down the weekend of 4-5 June ... or I could wait until you’re back from Bali. Let me know because I’ll need to book soon if it’s the first option.”

While I’d be excited at the prospect of an interstate lover, it was a bit much.

“I think we should chat on the phone before you go booking anything — ha!” I replied.

I didn’t necessarily mean right then, but you know, just before he logged onto Jetstar.

He replied saying he found ‘phone calls “incredibly awkward”.

And, after rambling for ages — it was as if I’d told him to jump into Sydney Harbour and swim after the Manly Ferry to see me — he revealed he would indeed pick up the phone.

And then he gave me his number.

What?

He told me “to message to make sure it was a good time to talk.”

I sent him my number, and said to just call me.

“What day?” he asked. “And what time?”

I bet the Prime Minister has less trouble arranging a chat with Obama.

Again — and what was I bloody thinking — I said maybe Tuesday, and around 6.30pm.

He rang on the actual dot.

But, you see, I’d just met my pal Jenna in Cos, and we were heading for a quick drink, in the rain, so I didn’t answer.

Whoops.

But he left a message.

We all had a different take on the hat theme at my dinner party

And then he sent a text. To tell me he’d left a message.

And I did reply saying I was sorry I missed him but I’d worked late and then gone for a drink.

He messaged again saying that was fine. And then again not long after, asked if I was free.

By that time I was in bed watching Eastenders and didn’t reply.

“I never heard back from you,” he whinged the next hour.

It was all just a bit much.

The next morning I sent him a message saying I was sorry I missed him, but to BLOODY CHILL THE HELL OUT. Well, something like that.

He replied saying he figured I now didn’t want to talk (you think?) and said it was “a relief actually” that he didn’t have to call.

I replied: “I don’t want a pen pal.”

Sigh.

Meanwhile, I’m checking my phone for another message.

You see Saturday was the latest Sydney Soiree and it served up some success.

Sarah’s soiree was a success.

Sarah joined a hat-themed Sydney Soiree.

I hosted the roaming dinner party at my house and it was the best fun I’ve had for ages.

Even if I did stab a hole in my finger while chopping a lemon, burn my face on a candle and cut my foot on a shard of smashed glass.

AND somebody stole my new plug-in air freshener from the bathroom. I’m not joking.

And I was so busy perfecting my prawn cocktail that night, I didn’t even think about pulling.

But a cute Floridian with an embroidered pink flamingo on his shirt and an Native American headdress on his head (there was a hat theme) somehow ended up erm, removing both later on, shall we say.

Sarah with her pals at the Sydney Soiree dinner party

One of Sarah’s guests wore a Native American headdress. But looked better than Prince Charles.

And while we had one message exchange, he’s since flown the nest.

I mean, I never expected to hear from him again (though the dating guru said I need to stop thinking like this because I could be sending out bad signals).

And as Alanis would say, it’s not quite as bad as meeting the man of my dreams ... and then meeting his beautiful wife, is it?