Dating Drama with Rivington Rouge

She’s young (26), she’s attractive (very) and she’s intelligent (scarily). So why is it that my new contributor Rivington Rouge (obviously not her real name) hasn’t been asked out for over a year? Here, she delves into all issues male and introduces her social experiment which will investigate just what it takes to bag one of the ‘plenty’ of fish near the Thames.

I’m a cynic. What most people don’t know about me (and it’s something that I’ve only recently come to terms with) is; I’m also a hopeless romantic.

Bear with me though because I know what you’re thinking. I’m not one of those deluded girls that think Prince Charming is going to come and sweep me off my feet or that I like to be serenaded. What I would like though, and what would be nice is for my meetings, dates, relationships or even one night stands (If I feel like it), to happen organically. Not forced, not contrived and most certainly not on a dating website, which quite frankly is my personal Kryptonite.

Which brings me to my point (of sorts) although I hate the idea of dates, I don’t ever get asked out on them. The last date I went on was exactly 378 days ago.

Now I know what you’re thinking and no, I’m not ugly, fat or stupid (at least I hope). But you see, not to sound conceited, but I have almost three degrees, I speak three languages, I’m a size ten and I’d like to think attractive (which is hard to admit) yet somehow men in London couldn’t seem to notice or give a toss, not a single one. They’d rather have a whiney, idiot draped all over them than a (somewhat) intelligent, attractive, slim and humorous 26 year old.

Here is where it gets interesting; I’ve decided to investigate how long exactly it will take a male in London to ask me out on a date. I’m not going to join any of those dreadful dating websites (no offence to any of you that do), I’m not going to go out of my way to find a date, in fact I’m going to do continue doing exactly what I’ve been doing for the past year and see if anything changes. I’m going to carry out various social experiments to make this a bit more interesting. I’ve coerced the lovely Bianca into joining me on these various missions to be guinea pigs for your reading pleasure. We want to see if environment makes a difference, if wearing makeup makes a difference and if acting like a coy idiot helps at all (since it does for half of the girlfriends of friends I’m forced to make conversation with). We are delving into this experiment head first and want you to come along for the ride. We are going to infiltrate the clubs and bars of London with such ferocity that all men residing in our capital should be afraid, very afraid. Although, with my track record, perhaps I’m the one that should be afraid-afraid of what complete pussies English men have become.

So here’s to this new experiment that I’m grabbing by the colloquial balls- since apparently there are so many of them up for grabs in London. _Rivington Rouge