I’m from ARU and you Cambridge students are shit at dating
FRANCESCA WOOD tells us what we all already knew, deep down
As brilliant as you Cantabs think you are, it’s not hard to date.
Well at least, it’s not hard to be pleasant on a date. Don’t be dicks. There, I said it.
I’m not tarring you all with this same rod – I’ve had my fair share of good times. But who cares about those right? Here’s the bad times:
Date 1: The Awkward Mathmo
Inviting your date to your room is one thing. But showing them all your competitive dance videos?… If I wanted to watch the cha-cha on a loop, I’d tune into Strictly Come Dancing.
Did I not make it clear? The sarcastic comments, the fake laughing and the constant looking at my phone?
Also, serenading a girl with a song from Frozen on your electric piano doesn’t make us weak at the knees – it makes us question if you’re either really fucking deluded or just plain simple.
The best part of the night was my idea of going for a McFlurry. The worst part? When you fed it to me. Unattractively.
I nearly choked to death. On cringeworthiness.
I will never eat a McFlurry the same way again.
And on a side note – less tongue, more shutting of the mouth.
It started well. The conversation was strong(ish) under the glow of the Lola Lo’s outside heaters. He was Cambridge, I was ARU – forbidden love.
We smoked in unison and drunkenly swayed from side to side. It was clearly meant to be.
And then the joke came.
“Born and bred with a silver spoon in your mouth, huh?” I sarcastically exclaimed, without hesitation.
Remember when Jekyll turns into Mr Hyde?
Just a tip to all the keenos out there. If you want to convince me you aren’t an entitled arsehole, don’t follow me round the dance floor the entire night explaining your whole family tree and working ethics. Until then, I didn’t even think you were an entitled arsehole.
Still counts as a date though.
And the winner goes too…
The Awkward Engineer
Firstly, if a girl picks you up from your college – and I mean right at the door – don’t just sit in silence in the car. At least try to say something positive. Example: nice driving or THANKS FOR PICKING ME UP.
Secondly, if a girl cooks a dinner for you, buys all the ingredients and preps the meal, maybe lie and say the food is nice, even if you think it’s shit. It’s simple fucking manners – and manners don’t cost a thing. The food did though.
Thirdly, don’t like my film choice (The Blues Brothers, naturally)? You’re crazy, but wait until it’s over. Don’t bitch about it the whole way through. It isn’t cute, it isn’t funny and I wanna punch you in the face. Badly.
FYI – I give great BJ’s. I’ve been told. Your opinion is invalid.
Pluck up your ideas Cantabs. We aren’t impress on the ‘other’ side of town.