CNPS numbers spotted 3 (802)- after an hour and a half and running and spotting this morning I got nowhere, but saw an 800 on the way to the gig. Everything is back on course. Do not fret my pretties. I might still do this.
I can't believe I've done it: The dating is over. 50 dates in 50 days. It's been a blast, but also a stormy sea of mixed emotions. At this early stage it is too soon to say whether it has been a good or bad thing to do or what the repercussions of it all might be. I have met some fantastic women and been to amazing places and done my liver irreparable damage. But now all the fun is over I will be forced to take stock and try to work out what the Hell I do now.
Part of me is considering joining a tea-total monastery, another part of me is thinking of trying to carry on and see if I can bump it up to 100. I've got pretty good at this now, it seems a shame to deprive all the other women that I haven't been out yet of the momentous experience that is Richard Herring.
But inevitably I crave the opportunity to see people for a second time so that I have a chance to find out a bit more about them. First dates are fun, but without the luxury of a second meeting they can be a lustrous bell with a hollow ring. And much as I've loved meeting new people it is going to be good to see people I know again and to see new people for a second time. And to know that if I meet a woman I like I don't have to wait a month and a half to see her.
I think tomorrow I will just stay in and watch telly (I have the "Curb Your Enthusiasm" DVD box set which I am keen to see), though I fear what effect the sudden solitude may have upon me. Ah well, if I get lonely I have 50 phone numbers now!
It was a relief to see number 50 and to know that I wasn't going to fall at the last hurdle. There was a bit of confusion though, as she was coming to see my gig at the Latchmere, but I'd said we should meet at the BAC (thinking that the restaurants are better round there). Not unnaturally she had assumed we were meeting at the venue of my gig and had gone to the Latchmere. I'd waited 15 minutes at the BAC and then rung to check everything was OK and the mistake was discovered. I was in my car so it was easy enough to go and pick her up.
I thought I must be doing very well with my chat up lines over dinner as I noticed 50 was taking notes in a little diary. Then I remembered that she is a journalist who is planning to write a piece about the experience (though I suspect she was still writing "Wow, he's really handsome and smooth and charming. I think I am in love with him. I hope he will marry me", but can't be sure as she was using short-hand). I think honesty is the most important thing when you are on a date with someone and think I've been very open with all my women (for example by letting them know that I am seeng 49 other people at the moment), so I had to remember to guard what I said a little. She inevitably asked me if I had become intimately involved with anyone. I told her that I had had full sexual relations with all 49 women so far and so it would be churlish of her to break the chain and force me to start the whole thing again. Then I looked at her expectantly. But she just laughed.
And not in a "Oh how daring, I will go to bed with you" way.
More in a Big Cook Ben kind of way.
You can't blame a man for trying.
The gig at the Latchmere was less well attended than the first and I hadn't managed to write all that much more material. The balance of poignant to funny material is now a bit out of kilter and I have to get into the premise of the whole thing a lot more quickly. There's some promising stuff and I am probably further ahead than I've ever been with a show before, but I was a little bit tired and my energy was low. Slightly depressingly I have found out today that my entry in the Fringe Programme for Edinburgh gives totally the wrong time for my performance. It's not a total disaster - it says I'm on at 7.10, and I'm on at 8.30; it would be much worse if it put the time down as later - but people tend to plan their days beforehand from the Fringe programme, so even if they are told of the right time when they book it could fuck up a few people's plans. I am sure we will think of some way to minimise the damage, but it's not a brilliant start to my campaign to not lose thousands of pounds during the Fringe. So I'll start by letting you all know. MY SHOW STARTS AT 8.30PM. NOT 7.10. I hope you will all come along.
Now I have to sit down and work out how much money I've spent in the last 50 days.
