Monday, 17 September 2012


It might surprise you to hear that Nemo is single 😆  Yes if you hadn’t already guessed by my reference to aged ovaries, my dream of the husband with the house and my free time to blog, let me set the record straight. Nemo is single. Now I don’t know if many of you folks are single or have been for some time, but do you find the “advice” offered a tad irritating and patronising??  I know it comes from a good place, but so too does Daniel O’Donnell and you wouldn’t clone him, now would ya?!  My two favourite are “Give him a chance, you might get to like him” and “Sure you work with tonnes of fellas in The Fish Tank, surely there are some great guys there?”  I’m a non-tank dater. I don’t do The Tank. I don’t believe in dipping the pen in the company ink (although I’m quite sure that’s a male phrase…that an ex said to me incidentally. Weird) It’s not an elitist thing, it’s more to do with the fact that I have an inability to deal with the unknown. If I hooked up with someone from The Fish Tank (well firstly I’d have to do a lot of searching, no disrespect WWs but…) I’d be able to cope with seeing him most days, with the morning after the night before, even with the “let’s not do this again” look, but I could not cope with all the other fish knowing that Nemo and Yer Felleh got together last night. God no!
Anyway, as it happens I’ve never had any problem with that whatsoever. No single Fish Tank resident has ever, ever made any kind of move on me! No SINGLE resident.  Ah yes, but I have to think every time I go to say the number of married residents who have.  At last count we are at six. Six! Six married fish have tried in some shape or form to get jiggy with Nemo.  Now, at last check I don't have "Mistress in the Making" tattooed on my forehead but it would seem I am more attractive to the not-so-attractive, older, married male fishies in The Tank.  Here's a run down of the six lucky suckers to date:
1. The boss. My first boss, 50s, bald, glasses, thin, smoked a pipe. I was about to turn 22, he told me my interview suit didn’t do anything for me, the clothes I was wearing right now were much better, then leaned over, put his hand on my knee and told me his wife didn't understand him and they were separating. I nearly vomited there on the spot.  I think when he saw me vomit on myself outside of the castle where we had our Christmas party, our potential relationship was doomed. Ach, what could have been… 
2. The “gentleman” who offered me a lift home after the Christmas party. I wouldn’t call myself naïve, but I would have called myself drunk and a cheapskate. After about 15 vodkas, a freebie lift from an oul fella from The Tank sounded like something my parents would commend me for.  He told me he thought I was as deep as the ocean and leaned over to lob the gob. I then knew that this was probably something I should not brag about to my parents (or colleagues or friends or therapist even!)
3. The newly married man (who incidentally was quite attractive, alas), asked me if my boobs were real and if I could prove it, then asked for a kiss.  The night continued with him trying to hold my hands under the table in front of a bar of friends from “the dark period in my life”. I can't say I wasn't tempted, but four months married seemed a tad early to be havin' it away with a work colleague...
4. The Penguin. About 5 foot tall, didn’t have much of a neck, wore a long floaty black rain coat, reminded me of the character from Batman from the way he laughed to the way he walked.  Concocted a story in his head that we’d “more than just pecked on the cheek” at a hotel room door, and asked to come in for coffee when dropping me to my rented accommodation after plying me with drink all night. I had to block this one out as I am quite sure there are many, many people in The Tank who, to this day, have heard Nemo had an affair with The Penguin. I can’t cope with the thought!!
5. The friend. Dedicated to his wife and children, spoke of them all the time, chastised me for being great fun on nights out, quiet and serious at work (never did understand it was the vodka that turned me into Fun Bobby!), cornered me with deep and meaningfuls every night we were out, when jokingly asked by the girls in a group “If you could shag anyone in The Tank, who would it be” refused to answer, but sidled up to me a couple of hours later with the random phrase “The answer is you" *roll eyes"
6. The shhhhhhleaze. Wavy hair, creepy eyes, followed and waited for me outside the toilets at a function in the actual tank, with Flipper and Flipper’s number two watching him. Eventually two people on his team came over to me and asked if I was OK and brought me over to their group...
I mean who can blame me? Crazy, older, married male fish groping at every angle.  No, no, for now I'll spread my fins further afield...and maintain my non-tank dating strategy.

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