The Steadfast Tin Soldier

Our favourite Hans Christian Andersen stories

Loving Kisses & an Omelette with Chives

OR

A Tragic Double Suicide

Thaddeus — Another Red-Headed Man

We’d chatted for more than a month.

In his photo he was wearing a tuxedo, clean-shaven, and carrying a bunch of flowers that you could just see if you looked carefully.

That photo told me three things about him.

• I scrub up good.
• I will buy flowers.
• I have manners.

He was red-haired. He looked nice in his photos.

He chided me for vulgarity in this Red Lips Exchange:

“How is Miss Real tonight?”

“I am very well, thank you, Thaddeus. How’s yourself? I just finished cooking. I am hungry like the wolf.”

“Are you gonna get red meat then? :-)”

“I never put dead meat past my lips. (+Gif of hot red full glistening lips blowing a soft kiss)”

“First I laughed but now it’s more like uhh”

“Yeah, it’s too much. How do I take it back?”

“Don’t.”

“Where’s the Erase button? Unsend?”

“No worries, miss.”

“Thank you for your straightforward and honest response. Very refreshing. Honesty.”

“It has never done me bad. Ever.”

“That is music to my ears.”

He was ratcheting up FAST.

I read on a dating site blog that there are three questions that supremely determine compatibility:

Do you like horror films?

Have you ever traveled around another country alone?

Wouldn’t it be fun to chuck it all and live on a sailboat?

(If you want to know if a chick will sleep with you on the first date, ask her if she likes the taste of beer. There’s a high correlation.)

Thaddeus dosen’t like horror films. Neither do I.

He traveled in Australia once for a year. He said “we” a couple of times so I guess he didn’t travel alone. I didn’t ask, I do NOT want to drag any previous character into our acquaintance at this stage of the proceedings. We both just pretend we’re dating virgins. Despite both of us having sons. He, too, has probably imagined what it would be like if we got together. Mom, Dad and five boys…

So, we’ve decided to chuck it all and go live on a sailboat. Together. Before we’d even met.

We agreed that he would find a place to meet. I was running late (Stella J. had asked me do see if I could do some doodling and I had struck a lode of inspiration that it was hard to remove myself from) and as I cycled into town, I got off my bike to message him that I would be late and saw that he, too, was delayed.

Then I couldn’t find the cafe — it wasn’t where the link he’d sent me said that it would be. I called him and he said it was on Crown Prince street and not on Crown Princess Street.

I was relieved that he was also delayed by traffic and that I wasn’t sitting there waiting for him. I don’t do waiting well. Then I tried a map app but it wasn’t working and was trying to send me way out of town.

Finally I asked a passer-by and she told me to cycle straight ahead and that it was on the right. But it wasn’t. As I stood on the street corner peering into my telephone I realized that it WAS on the right but it changed name to Soot Street towards the T-junction where I cycled past. A sleek black luxury car was parked at traffic and the chauffeur got out of the car to check the environs. That told me that somebody very important was in the car. However, the chauffeur getting out of the car (twice) was like saying “Me! Me! I’m a target! Shoot the dignitary in the back of the car!”

I reminded myself to throw myself to the ground if I heard any shots.

I double back and see Thaddeus waiting outside. He looks nice but YOUNG; very boyishly dressed. I am wearing my standard first date gear: black tube dress, frilly black blouse, black shoes, and black patterned tights. ALWAYS patterned. If you have no patterns, it shouts that you have no imagination and no style. Buy a pair now.

The place he’d invited me to was a very fine teahouse and we drank chai.

There was a cushioned wall-mounted bench and a facing chair. He directed me to the wall seat. I liked that. It’s my favourite thing.

I really ought not to drink caffeine drinks because I talk too fast if I do.

Thaddeus was a delight to spend time with. We talked and laughed and smiled. I caught his eye a couple of times and he held my gaze for a moment. He was easygoing and seemed mature.

He’d grown a beard since he’d created his profile. His hair wasn’t all that red but he looked very, very Irish. I liked that. I told him how it was so fashionable to be red-haired nowadays.

He’s a HANDYMAN!!!

Oh yeah, oh yeah, all rise!

He was in the car business.

He drove a Swedish car.

The last time I dated a guy who drove a Swedish car, he let me drive it on the first date (I took this to mean that he had no control issues. We subsequently dated for four years).

The cafe booted us out at 5 pm when it closed. I went to the bathroom while he went up to pay. When I put the money for my tea on the table, he waved it away, but I left it there when he looked away anyway as a tip. I might be coming back. The cashier gave him two foil-wrapped teabags of Darjeeling which he gave to me. Gifts already!

We walked to his car (it wasn’t actually his; he had lent his Swedish stationcar to a neighbour who needed a big car to drive luggage to the airport in) and he drove me to a house that he’d renovated in which Hans Christian Andersen had once lived.

He told me how one morning he went to the bakers to get some breakfast and as he rounded the corner, he was within a hair’s breath of crashing into the future king of Denmark who was around four years old at that time. The child was taking a morning walk with his father, the crown prince and was looking through the bars of the gate at HC Andersen’s house as Thaddeus came charging around the corner. The crown prince gestured to the secret service that it was okay and the royal line continued, having narrowly escaped a rough collision.

“What’s your favourite Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale?” I asked him.

“The Steadfast Tin Soldier,” he answered.

Oh dear, it doesn’t end well:

This is my favourite; it has a happy ending:

In fact, this is an astonishingly transcendental story that I return to again and again ever since I saw it performed in an open-air theatre at Tivoli, the old-fashioned amusement park in the centre of town, one summer with my children.

As Thaddeus drove me back to my bicycle he said that he would like to meet again.

So would I.

He suggested that I hop out at the traffic light. I knew I didn’t have much time. I made sure I had all my stuff and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek (beard) close to his mouth. I don’t know, I just wanted to. I’ve never done that before; not like that, anyway.

I texted him later that evening so he had my number.

He texted me to ask if I’d gotten home okay and then again the next morning.

There are two Hans Christian Andersen stories; I chose one, he chose the other.

In his, the ballerina casts herself into the flames in a desperate bid to be with her beloved soldier; in mine the ending is smothered in loving kisses and an omelette with chives.

Thank you for reading this excerpt from my dating diary.

If you liked this, you might also like Kelly Jean Fitzsimmons dating article:

This is one of the funniest dating articles I have ever read. I have read it three times and it is just as funny on the second and third reading. It’s by Katey:

She wrote this too, also WELL worth reading: