A survivors’ guide to the single life in Dubai
Winter has arrived. Well, since I’m from London, this isn’t exactly winter. Over there, winter meant that you would layer up to the point where you forget what your base outfit is in the first place. But as they say, when in Dubai… umm, wear branded clothes. This, for me, is spring maybe or just a great reason to enjoy the restaurants that have shifted to the pavements of this beautiful city. Work has been good, my boss is on leave. Maybe I should re-phrase, since my boss is on leave, work has been good.
In other news, my days of disastrous Tinder dates seem to be behind me. After about eight dates, I decided that swiping left and rarely right was not working for me. I was waiting for my friend at the local watering hole when after my last encounter with ‘Psycho Sam’ (yes, I named all of them. There was Mad Maddy, Rubbish Rob, Smelly Samir, Nerdy Nevin, Viscous Vicky, Pathetic Peter, Desperate David and Psycho Sam. All of them are pretty self-explanatory), I pressed the ‘x’ on the wobbly app on my phone and bid good bye to Tinder forever. That’s when my phone rang. It was Sarah, my friend. My ‘we-ardo’ friend, whose baby decided to get all colicky and hamper our girls night out.
“But I’m already here!”, I said all shrill
“I know babe, but baby trumps drinks. I don’t know why because it’s the drinks that brings the baby in the first place, so you would think that it should be given that kind of respect but no.. apparently in the real world, baby trumps everything. Anyways, please have one for me and enjoy your night. I promise I shall make it up to you soon. Bye”, Sarah bellowed and hung up. This is exactly what I meant. This was the problem with friends who
became we-ardos. Great.
I couldn’t believe it. I was stuck in a crowded place all by myself stood up. I could just get up and walk off, but then it hit me: when was the last time I spent time with the company I love the most…myself? I have been working so hard and trying to date all these ridiculous guys, that I haven’t been able to have any ‘me-time’. So this was it. I decided to make a night out of it for myself. I ordered a glass of red and my favourite steak, pulled out my book and enjoyed my meal. It just felt really good.
I didn’t have to make any meaningless conversation, pretend to be interested in something I wasn’t, laugh at jokes that weren’t funny. It was perfect. Why didn’t I do this often?
I need to do this often. I felt content. I felt happy. It was one of the best nights I had spent in Dubai. I was ready to call it a day. I called for my check, longing to finish the book in bed when the waiter gave me a note which read ‘Beautiful girls should never eat alone, hope you have a good week’.
I looked up at the waiter with a dumbstruck expression trying to fathom what just happened and there he was, standing with his sheepish smile and said, “Ma’am your meal has been paid for by a gentleman who just left.”
Who just left? He didn’t leave a number? Didn’t ask for one? Didn’t approach me? Didn’t wait for me to finish to introduce himself? Did he look good atleast? Wow. I was impressed… and intrigued. Who was this guy? I needed to know him. I needed to find out. I picked myself up and made my way out, but I had to find out. Question was..how? I know. Let’s start by calling him Mystery Man.
Note to self: Find Mission Mystery Man commences.