Analysing The Psyche of a Professional HeadFuck

When my bespectacled, politics-loving, straight-talking friend with the uncontrollable hair and quirky outfits told me she had a "date" on a Monday night I knew it would be anything but ordinary.

When she elaborated that the guy she was going on a date with was in fact the guy who’d sent her an elaborate essay of an email after they’d spent one PG night together - I began to worry.

Ten minutes into meeting him on that fateful night and she’d already confessed her obsession with the blonde girl her ex dumped her for; the rather un-classy affair she’d had with her friend's boyfriend, and her penchant for pretentious musicians.  It’s no surprise this seemingly level-headed ex-smoker was soon chaining his way through her Golden Virginia, and who could blame him?

Yet whether it was because he had nowhere to stay or because he thought he'd get lucky for the first time since his ex of three years dumped him, he went back to her humble abode. Drop any images of hot, steamy sex – it was all very innocent. Just kissing and cuddling under the duvet like two naughty school kids on a sleepover.  

When he left the following day, after hours of painful intellectual conversation, he asked to see her again. Unfortunately, this whole First Official Date business turned into something of a headfuck extravaganza, with weeks of to-ing and -fro-ing about whether or not he REALLY wanted to go out with her. Not to forget the bizarre email he sent her waffling on about how he “wasn’t after anything serious” but he’d like to see her again…blah de blah blah.  

After Mr Headfuck’s letter of confession he did a U-turn (Usher-styley) and initiated a date for….um… a Monday night. Monday lectures were interesting watching Sasha snap at everyone and chain smoke (illegally) in room 47. At half five a stressed Sasha departed for Waterloo to meet him.

A few glasses of wine later and she was on the undesirable blurry end of the tipsy scale, having been too nervous to eat a thing all day. ("It's not the date, it's my dissertation!" Yeah, right.)

Sasha then snubbed the pub and dragged him to a bench along the South Bank. But unlike Terry and Julie’s admiration for Waterloo’s Sunset they acquired an excessive fascination for the street lights. During this time Sasha learnt that he used to fancy her best mate, that he was "confused" about where he was going in his life and that he was very happy to be single. This was repeated more than once, actually.

And yet she still held out hope that she might get a snog out of him. But in true confusing-man style he politely declined, reiterating his "confusion" and politely giving her a chaste hug before she stumbled down an escalator to catch her tube, her dignity following her closely behind.

To rub salt into the wound I was suppose to meet her after the date for an all nighter in the library – but I bailed out oblivious to what had happened at Waterloo.

Four hours sleep, three mind-numbing lectures and about eight hundred cigarettes later it was my turn to say something helpful about Mr Migraine and her less-than perfect night. Despite her being an opinionated, irritating leftie with a phobia of blondes - she is a catch. And he should count himself lucky that she even wanted to snog him – let alone go out with him.

So for once I was stumped by his attitude. I've come up with four possibilities as to why he had to let her linger (literally). Here it goes:

1. He's Just Not That Into You: He gave the whole date thing a go but quickly realised she wasn't his cup of tea and decided not to see her again.

2. He's Still Hung Up On His Ex: Either he still has feelings for her or she hurt him and self-preservation is screaming at him to not get involved with anyone.

And although he likes her, he doesn't want a relationship and is happy to remain friends.

3. He’s playing hard to get: He likes her so much he wants to take it slowly because he respects her and wants her to be more than a one night stand.

4. He's Just A HeadFuck: No further explanation needed.

How To Spot A Weirdo

I USUALLY expect a ’comical’ birthday card from my dad. The hand made type with a glued on picture of me as a toddler sporting a Pizza Hut hat with ice cream all over my chubby chops. With a caption below saying: “You haven’t changed much have you?”

I usually humor him with a fake laugh before rolling my eyes at my sister – both of us thinking, “Dad joke”.

But as I unpeeled the pink envelope to my 24^th birthday card something unexpected happened. The card had a picture of a 50s couple selecting chocolates from a posh box. Underneath the caption read: “Men are like chocolates, wait too long and only the weird and nutty ones are left”.

This could be funny, but considering my recent ex was the personification of weird and nutty the expression ‘truth hurts’ sprung to mind.  Whilst my family burst into hysterics like a pack of hyenas all exchanging anecdotes about my nutty ex I entered a state of trance.

I remembered a conversation I’d had with a friend about how to spot a weirdo. She said, and quite rightly too: “The thing is, Georgie, they don’t come with a tattoo saying “psycho” across their forehead.”

It’s true. They don’t, they’re usually the most charming ones. After all, Satan disguised himself as an angel of light…

So how do you pick a strawberry cream over a hazelnut truffle? Unfortunately, there is no easy way other than trial and error. But there are some early warning signs you can look out for when dating.

No 1. Excessive jealously:

 If you receive a text message and he’s bending his neck like Uri Geller’s spoon trying to read it then alarm bells should ring.

 If he says “who’s that?” Run.

It will only get worse once you’re official – he’ll no longer ask to look at your phone he’ll just snatch it.

No 2. He comments on your dress sense, or the “lack of it”:

 Comments like “that’s a bit short”, or, “who are you trying to impress?” mean that in two months time he’ll have you dressing like the Iron Lady.

 No 3. Unnecessary harassment:

If he calls and texts you constantly when you’re out with the girls then you need to play Jennifer Hudson’s smash hit song ‘spotlight’ on repeat and get the message!

No 4. He accuses you of flirting with his mates:

He’ll say: “Why are you giving Joe the eye?”

When really you’re just being polite and looking his mate in the face when he is talking to you.

No 5. He automatically hates every male friend you have:

Even the hopeless one who has been single ever since the doc cut the umbilical cord from his mother.

It’s easy to confuse possessiveness with love, and in the early stages feel naively flattered by his attention towards you.

“He just really cares,” I’d reassure a friend, after 10 missed calls before I’d even had a sip of my skinny latte.

He doesn’t care.  He’s insecure and controlling. Lose the deluded thoughts like ‘he just loves me so much’. He’s probably been like this with every girl he’s ever had.

Girls - there’s only one place this man belongs – untouched – like the miniature Topic at the bottom of a Celebrations’ box.