Du-bae: One girl, one city, and one very anonymous weekly dating column

"And she never heard from him again" - a modern-day love story by our very own anonymous dating columnist
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Du-bae: One girl, one city, and one very anonymous weekly dating column
Silence: the universal language of ghosting

"This may be the city you find the love of your life, or, just your love of life," my mum told me ahead of The Big Move To Dubai. I knew she was rooting for the first option as I’ve pretty much been single since I split from my long-term boyfriend at university (I’m 26 now), and as my late-night Instagram Stories show, I definitely don’t need to work on my relationship with (night)life. 

I’ve been a Dubai resident for 16 weeks now and I’ve found the dating scene intriguing, as you actually meet people IRL here, rather than the dating apps most men in London hide behind. I met an attractive guy at a house party and he took to Instagram message (the new WhatsApp) to start a conversation afterwards. Weeks of back and forth followed before he suggested Ramusake in Double Tree by Hilton for after-work drinks. “No dinner? That’s a red flag to me,” my new Dubai friend said. “Make sure you eat before so you don’t make bad decisions.” Me? Bad decisions? Impossible.

I thought the date was a success: he was interesting, intelligent and not from the UK (I’m trying to expand my diversity pool of dates), which was all great, but it didn’t take long for me to start feeling like a very basic Brit. Why didn’t I try harder at school to learn languages? Explore untouched areas of the world? Oh yeah, I remember. It's cos there’s so much to do in Ibiza every year…

Moving on, he did order food for us (a bowl of edamame counts, right?) and even better, he picked up the bill. Oh, wait. Ramusake on a Wednesday is Ladies’ Night, which meant all of my drinks were free. No wonder there were so many groups of giggling girls around us – and I was slightly suspicious about why I was being served grape in a plastic glass. Was this a deliberate ploy on his behalf to ensure questionable decisions and a cheap night? I think so.

Still, the date was by no means a disaster and I anticipated another one - but perhaps somewhere serving drinks in real glass (I have high expectations, I know). However, I wasn’t asked out again, so I think it’s safe to say the chapter is closed on that one. Maybe it’s because I didn’t offer to split the bill…

Photos: Instagram @godsownjunkyard