Will Harris on the trials and tribulations of dating

It’s probably not the done thing to arrive on a first date carrying two enormous Argos bags, but, one blustery evening in February, that is exactly what I’ve done. Before you say anything, dear reader, I’m fully aware this does not fall under the heading of ‘making an effort’. I also realise that – should my date find out the bags contain towels, a toilet brush and a bin – the overall impression will be of some sort of backstreet abortionist on a budget.

I wonder when it happened. There was a time when the prospect of meeting a potential love match would fill me with giddy excitement. I’d trip down the street in a cloud of optimism and Eternity For Men, rocking a killer outfit I’d spent all week agonising over, certain that this would be The One, the lightning bolt, the prince among frogs.

Somewhere along the way, though, the first date ritual lost its shine. Nowadays they’re lucky if I take my work pass from round my neck. Actually, they’re lucky if I get the right night. The problem, I know, is that I’ve dated too much. It’s a universal truth, the more you do of something, the less of a buzz you get. Any alcoholic worth their tequila salt will tell you that. And the downside of being young, sociable, and unwilling to settle is that you end up going on so many blind dates you should get a free dog. Jeez, is it any wonder I’m suffering from Dating Fatigue Syndrome?

“It’s a universal truth – the more you do of something, the less of a buzz you get”

What’s that, dear reader? You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince? Well, I guess it’s easy to be optimistic when you’re not the one knee-deep in swamp water, tonguing a long line of amphibians in the hope that one of them will give you an April wedding, an HRH, and his mother’s ring. It’s exhausting, and the real fear, as I find myself less and less invested in meeting new people and more and more content to stay in cataloguing my takeaway menus, is that eventually I’ll lose the urge altogether.

So what’s the answer? You would think it’s to stop going on so many dates, to try and recapture some of the excitement that used to come so easily. But then don’t you risk missing The One altogether? I mean, once you start playing the same lottery numbers every week, you can’t ever stop; if you do, you can bet that week your numbers will finally come up. It’s the same with dating. You have to keep your hand in, no matter how exhausted you get, no matter if that hand is clutching a ratty old carrier bag that screams: “I CAN’T BE BOTHERED ANY MORE!” After all, you wouldn’t want the right frog for you to hop it.