Theories of dating evolution

About the time the rest of my graduating class decided to settle down I decided to dive back into the dating pool. That’s right, 2 ½ years of tied down and I decided to plunge back into singleness. After a rather auspicious beginning it occurred to me that the last time I’d been single was…high school. No wonder it felt like all the rules had changed. Dating had apparently come a long way since “hey my friend thinks your cute and wants to know if you have a boyfriend”. Now all of the sudden there were all sorts of dating rules. And different kinds of dates! There were meeting for coffee dates and dinner out dates and you him and ten other friends in a bar dates. Apparently which kind of date you were asked on said all kinds of things about how much the boy liked you. Who knew! It was a strange confusing world and I realized that the mating habits of people my age had evolved rapidly in the two and a half years I’d been off the market.
Then I made the semi crazy decision to pack up and move halfway across the world. Well- if you wanted to throw a monkey wrench into the whole dating scene that was it. All of the sudden my boring flat Midwestern accent or rather lack of an accent is foreign and apparently kind of sexy. Cool. That helps.
So my first real “date” in Ireland. I’m supposed to meet the guy for drinks. He picked the pub across the street from my apartment- creepy, felt a bit like I’d been stalked, but decided to play along. After one pint and a serious lecture on his profession (which we’ll call accounting for the sake of confidentiality) I realized that this date was going nowhere but downhill quickly. I escaped to the bathroom, called a friend, and the second she answered said “you’re going to call me in about 45 minutes with a very serious personal problem”. I then hung up and walked back to the table as calmly as I could. After about one more drink my phone lit up with “Dermot slept with someone else! Why aren’t you answering?! Ring me!” Have to hand it to my friend- that was a pretty good story. Especially considering Dermot is the name of the stuffed monkey that lives on her desk. Unfortunately the idea of Dermot the happy smiling stuffed chimp cheating on poor Siobhan was so funny it took everything in my power not to burst out laughing. I must have put on a sort of concerned face, because my date bought the story. I apologized up and down, agreed to have one more drink, and then told him I simply had to go help my friend with her crisis. I can only picture the conversation with the lads back at his flat.
“You’re home early”
“Ah you know birds, always a crisis, had to go help her friend”
"Yea? And what was the crisis”
“Friend’s boyfriend- Dermot or something like that, is a cheating ass”
“Dermot eh? I’ll bet you a pint of beer Dermot is someone’s teddy bear.”
In fact it would cost me a pint of beer and several nights of wingman duty to alleviate myself of the debt I incurred forcing my friend to come up with an on the spot crisis. It’s been several weeks and we’re still laughing about Dermot’s “indiscretion”.
So anyway, went to London with a friend last weekend. I walk up to the bar and while I’m waiting a guy walks up to me. Sweet! What does he says? “My friend thinks you’re cute and wants to know if you have a boyfriend”. So much for dating evolution.