Trains, trains and dinner for 1!

So here I am, freshly single after 15 years with who I thought was the LOML. That’s Love Of My Life, not Legend Of My Lice… although in hindsight, who knows. Naturally, in the spirit of reckless optimism and post-breakup delusion, I thought, “Hey, online dating in 2025? What could possibly go wrong?”

Well. Everything, apparently.

Welcome to Boy Bye, the blog where I document my misadventures in modern dating, one disastrous encounter at a time. Spoiler alert: it’s less “Notebook” and more “Nightmare on Tinder Street.”

Let’s begin with my first date in over a decade. Buckle up.

We’ll call him Chad. Not because that’s his real name, but because of course it was going to be a Chad. Chad and I chatted for a week, and honestly, he was charming, funny, and had a voice that didn’t immediately scream red flag. We planned a simple pub date. Food, drinks, neutral territory. Solid plan.

Now here’s a PSA to all my fellow online daters: video call before you meet. Trust me. Learn from me. Don’t be like me.

Because when Chad arrived, it was like watching the low-budget sequel to my hopes and dreams. He shows up underdressed, like he got lost on his way to take the bins out. But fine, I’m cool, I’m chill, maybe he’s going for that “I don’t try because I’m effortlessly hot” look. Spoiler: he wasn’t.

Then I noticed… he had no bottom teeth.

Now listen, I’m not shallow. I’m not expecting veneers and a Colgate commercial smile. But a full set of chompers does feel like a baseline for a date involving food. Still, I decided to give him a chance, because maybe, just maybe, he’d make up for the dental situation with personality. Couple this with the admission that the birthday present he got his mum was giving her a bath, I began to feel wronged, why was I here surely it couldn’t get any worse!

LOL. Oh how wrong was I.

For the next hour, I sat there, held hostage, while Chad gave me a TED Talk on trains. He’s a conductor, which is great, choo choo and all that, but the man spoke at me like I was an unwilling passenger on the Hogwarts Express and he was the only one with a microphone.

Not a single question about me. Not even a polite “How was your day?” I could have been a hologram with a pulse for all he cared.

Then he says he’s going to the toilet. Returns with a drink for himself. No worries, I’ve got my lime and soda. Hydration is key. But then a waitress arrives ten minutes later and drops off a full plate of food. For him. That he ordered in secret.

I was speechless. Not in a “I’m so touched” way. More in a “Did I just get punk’d?” way. And to top it off, the kitchen had closed, so I couldn’t even order food for myself. I just sat there, watching a grown man with no bottom teeth gum a steak like it had personally wronged him, while he continued his passionate monologue about train timetables and signal maintenance.

And yes, I still didn’t leave. Why? Because apparently I hate myself.

We finish (well, he finishes) and as we walk out, he attempts to cop a feel like this was the closing scene of a rom-com. Sir, the only thing you’re getting is blocked.

I got in my car, drove straight to McDonald’s, inhaled a Big Mac like it was an act of spiritual cleansing, and promised myself: never again.

And yet… here we are.

Stay tuned for more tales of love, lies, and the tragic state of oral hygiene in the dating pool. Welcome to Boy Bye. It’s like “Eat Pray Love” but mostly just the “Pray” part and a lot of fast food.