A foolhardy experiment

Posted by Lucy Robinson at 06:36 on 28 Jan 2010

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When MC's daily email dropped into my inbox on Monday, I nearly wet myself laughing. For there, linking to my blog, were the words "The latest on Lucy Robinson's crazy love life."

And never has a truer word been spoken. My love life is crazy and I have absolutely had enough of it. I recovered from a broken heart, I forced myself to get the hell out there into the big wide world of dating... and... oh, sweet Jesus, what horrors awaited me. Let's just run through the dates that I've had since commencing this quest.

John: Voice of a (female) child; pathetically eager; clutched my face as if we had just got engaged
Andrew: About a foot shorter than advertised; aggressively anti-Southerner (even though I am one)
Archie: Preposterously posh and unfriendly; banging on about a leg of lamb
James: Utterly horrible in all ways. Rude, narcissistic, ill-mannered, vile.
David: Kissed me, then mentioned that he had a girlfriend.
Jake: First date, outstanding. Second date, it turns out he is a drug-dealing violent criminal who is apparently the world's best lover. Now stalking me.

It doesn't make for good reading, does it. But rather than getting into some terrible sulk I've decided to open a formal investigation.

The overall aim of the investigation is to ascertain whether or not my ‘crazy love life' is in fact my fault. I've always been one for self-improvement and if there's something I need to work on then I damned well will. Particularly if it will increase the chances of finding love and eternal happiness. Or at least a quick knee-trembler in the Soho NCP.*

My investigation will cover two principle issues.

1.    Is my judgement poor? Someone kindly suggested, a few blogs back, that this might be the problem. Were they right? Do I ignore the warning signs and go on dates with men who have I'm a total knob written all over them? I don't really think so. But there again I'm pretty subjective when it comes to matters that concern, well, me. So I have decided - even though the process will embarrass me enormously - to share my next pre-date correspondence with you. I will copy and paste the email preamble right here so that you can decide for yourselves whether or not I should go ahead with the date. Are there warning signs that I'm not spotting? I will need your help, readers; this is teamwork. Next, I will go on said date and write up a report for your viewing pleasure. Then, I hope, we will be able to arrive at a conclusion regarding my judgement.

2.    Is it because I is mad? If a man finds me unattractive then that's OK. (Well, it's not OK, but as an adult I know that I have to pretend that it is.) But if there's something awry with my personality then I need to know about it. If, through madness or nastiness, I am unknowingly turning otherwise-decent men into monsters within seconds of meeting me, then I will have to undertake some urgent work on myself. Perhaps the can Priory help? My approach to this matter is scarier still: I'm going to find some poor soul to go on a date with me who is prepared, after the event, to write an honest account of his experience of an evening with me. I will require him to assess my conversational skills, my humour and my general state of sanity. Is a date with Lucy Robinson a pleasant affair or something that induces vivid nightmares, sweaty palms and an urgent need for sedatives? He will email his report directly to Marie Claire who, we've agreed, will post it on my behalf so that I can't take out the horrible bits.

This is an incredibly stupid idea isn't it. I'd better go and thicken my skin as a matter of urgency.





*I hope I don't need to clarify that that was a joke.

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