Singapore expat dating and friends
I would entertain, pay and generally be the archetypal gentleman, and I loved every minute of it. They also appear to have different ideas about what "dating" means.
My next two dead-ends became my friends, which is nice.
Let me preface this with a few important considerations. Admittedly, I tend to look down at the ground when I smile and I look better in suits than shorts, but I don’t stop traffic.
Not unless I decide to cross without the guidance of the green man, a crime against humanity here in Singapore. My past is littered with examples of unrequited love, pointless pining and disastrous misjudgments.
I was even more cheerful when I discovered that he was a 55-year-old German who bore a rather striking resemblance to me (with wrinkles). She hadn’t put a photo on her profile and it was obvious why.
That wouldn’t have been such a problem if her personality had compensated for it. I took her to a hotel restaurant – The Swissotel by Clarke Quay has a quaint poolside place that makes its own brand of crisps as well as rather nice food.
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I got tired of being kept at a respectable distance and allowed her to float away, quietly hoping she’d row back. In a nation of shoppers, where people come and go and choice is bountiful, it’s hard to snag a decent catch.