Confessions of a Serial Dater: Loving In London

I am a serial dater.

I don’t deny it, I almost revel in it. If a guy asks me my sex number, I’ll gladly tell him (for the most part, anyways), but if he asks how many dates I’ve been on in the past week? I just might lie.

I wasn’t always this way. I spent most of my high school and early college years in serious relationships. When the last guy broke my heart, I did what every heartbroken, headstrong girl does—went wild, got drunk, and made-out with boys who’s names I didn’t know.

Now that I’m older, and (partially) wiser, I’m also on the move more regularly. After six months in New York and 3 months in Philadelphia, I have landed in London for the summer. What did I log onto immediately after landing at Heathrow? Tinder, of course.

Fast forward three weeks later, and I am pressed up against one of those cliche red phone-booths on a Tuesday night, making out with an Australian businessman.

Is life good? Hell yeah.

The thing about dating apps in London (and Europe in general, so I’ve heard), is that people actually take them somewhat seriously. In three weeks of using Tinder in Europe (although I am partial to Happn), not one guy has asked me to come over to his place, or even asked something as vague as, “wanna hang out?”

Nope, I’ve been exploring London through the eyes of boys who actually live here. No guy is shy about wanting to show a new London-er around, and I’ve been hitting art galleries, restaurants, pubs, pop-up shops, etc. with boys who don’t even always try to kiss me after a first date.

The negative side of going on dates that involve exploring, rather than a standard drink or dinner, is that there’s no designated end time. I’ve gone on first dates that have lasted over seven hours, which is a lot more than you would normally expect, and sometimes makes it hard to plan your schedule around when you don’t know how long a date is going to take. There have certainly been times when I’ve been ready to peace out and meet my friends at the club, but the guy I’m out with wants to hit one more spot before the night is over. I’m aware that I’m free to leave whenever I want, but I’m trying not to fuel the stereotype of a typical rude American chick.

I hate to fuel the stereotypes, but if you’re one of those girls who goes ga-ga for a British accent, I’m going to go ahead and admit that the rest of their personalities won’t ruin that fantasy for you.

However, if you’re looking for something (or someone) more foreign, London is extremely diverse (way more so than New York). In the past three weeks I’ve gone out with British guys, Spanish guys, Australian guys, and French guys (holla at me Mr. Worldwide).

Albeit, sometimes there are still culture gaps. Luckily, speaking the same language helps a lot when it comes to British guys. However, I am still learning some of the slang. When out with a Spanish guy, he asked if I liked cooking, and I mistakenly thought he was asking me if I liked cocaine (good thing I said no…I guess).

I will be documenting my dating experiences on here for all you lovely readers to see. While right now it’s all butterflies and roses, I am almost certain that I’m going to make a complete fool of myself sooner rather than later, and have some great embarrassing stories for you guys. I’ve also been compiling a list of common misconceptions British boys make about Americans, which is getting pretty hilarious (spoiler alert: they think Frats are the coolest thing ever). Stay tuned for more of my dating adventures from across the pond. Meanwhile, I’ll try my best not to get taken (sorry mom).


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