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Yesterdates
Yesterdates
Yesterdates
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Yesterdates

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Yesterdates is a collection of hilarious, heartwarming, and all-too-relatable tales of a single twenty-something, hopelessly in love with the idea of finding Mr. Right. Based on Scott De Buitléir’s gay dating column in the now-defunct Polari magazine, Yesterdates gives a light-hearted and honest account of various dating disasters, from bizarre cat impersonators to flirtatious baristas, with some sweet moments of young love and self-discovery along the way. In his third book, Scott completes the journey to find love with a final chapter to prove that even taking a chance on a ‘practice date’ could end up to become true love.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 16, 2019
ISBN9780463343845
Yesterdates
Author

Scott De Buitléir

Scott De Buitléir is an author and poet from Dublin, Ireland. Born in London to Irish parents, Scott quickly developed a passion for both writing and languages, becoming fluent in Irish Gaelic from a young age, and graduated from University College Dublin having studied Celtic languages.Writing poetry in both English and Irish since his teens, Scott's solo literary début was in 2017 with the release of the bilingual collection, Fás | Growth. The following year, he published The Irish Outlander, a partly autobiographical account of how the Irish diaspora continue to connect and relate with their homeland while abroad. In 2018, Scott released Yesterdates, a revised collection of his dating and relationship stories from his column in the British LGBTQ magazine, Polari. In 2020, two new works are due for release; a novella titled Forgiving Jake, and Scott's second bilingual poetry collection, Elysium / Párthas.Today, Scott lives in Cork city with his partner, Stephen. He regularly travels between Dublin and Cork, as well as regular visits to San Francisco.

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    Yesterdates - Scott De Buitléir

    Foreword

    Dating can be an exciting, nerve-wracking, butterflies-in-your-stomach time for people, regardless of age.

    Some people take hours to get themselves physically, emotionally, and mentally ready to go on a date with someone new in their lives. Some barely make any effort at all, either because they don’t feel they need to, or maybe because they might not think that they’re worth the romantic attention in the first place. Some dates become nothing more than a brief burst of passion, while others fizzle out into awkward silence within minutes. Sometimes, rumour has it that a first date can lead to happily ever after… but only, to quote Whitney and Mariah’s iconic song, when you believe.

    Yesterdates is based on a dating column I wrote for almost two years in Polari, a British LGBTQ magazine which ran from 2008 until 2014. When the column was launched, I was 24; young, naïve, and honestly, quite lonely, and desperate to find that special someone. As a result, the autobiographical ‘Scottie’ column was a series of love-seeking snapshots in time; confessing the funny, bizarre, dramatic, stupid, heartbreaking, and sometimes all-too-relatable trials and tribulations I faced in my search for Mr. Right.

    I imagine that there will be two kinds of readers for this book; those who are looking for love, and those who have left their dating days behind them. Be warned, however, that little wisdom will be found here for single hopeless romantics. Instead, by reading this, rest assured that we all have our own war stories in the search for a better half. It’s worth acknowledging, also, that we’re not always the innocent party on a bad date or a break-up; I’ve personally accepted that we don’t do the right thing every time when it comes to affairs of the heart, but with a little faith and humility, it can all work out in the end.

    Each column article from the original Polari series has been edited slightly to become a chapter in this book, making them easily readable within a short sitting or commuter journey. The vast majority of the chapters are in chronological order, although some are independent from their neighbouring stories. As with the original column, the names of real persons featured in the stories have been changed.

    I'd like to thank Christopher Bryant and the editorial team at Polari for their support in the column's original publication, and the opportunity they gave me back then as a young writer. Thanks also to my family and friends for their constant support, including my partner Stephen, who can now enjoy reading about the disasters I suffered before finding the man of my dreams. Last but not least, special thanks to MKB Publishing for continued support of my writing.

    I sincerely hope you enjoy the following tales from my dates of days gone by – my Yesterdates.

    Scott De Buitléir

    Cork, Ireland

    Summer 2019

    For those who don’t give up on love.

    Young love is common, but that doesn't mean it's not precious.

    ~ Eoin Colfer, Airman

    Meeting the Parents… Almost

    I panicked. Completely panicked. I stared at my phone’s screen, displaying the text message that made my heart go into overdrive. My parents were on a collision course with my date, with only seconds to spare.

    The worst thing about the impending disaster was that it was a first date. Not the traditional kind of date where you've already passed the cheesy chat-up stage in some bar. No no. This was the 21st Century style of first date where it's the first time you meet offline, and it was already off to a bad start.

    I got to the café first, got my own coffee and sat down. When he arrived, I didn't even think of getting up to greet him, I merely waved. That sent him into an awkward 'Oh, you're not getting up – oh, you're not shaking my hand... I'll go and order a coffee' moment. Either he thought I was playing it cool, or more likely, that I was being a complete prat. It was about to get worse.

    Eh, sorry, I said nervously to him, who must've noticed the look of utter fear on my face. Do you mind if I make a quick call? My parents are in the neighbourhood.

    Oh right, that's a bit forward, he joked heartily. He was taking the situation much lighter than I was.

    Within seconds, I noticed my parents' car pull up to the pavement near the café. We were sitting by the window, so if they parked a few feet closer, they would've had a perfect view of my date. Now, don't get me wrong; I've no problem introducing a guy to my parents when the time comes. The problem here was that ten minutes had barely passed since he came into the café. Nice guy, but that's not enough time to start committing to things just yet!

    Will you excuse me, just for a second? Without giving him time to reply, I leapt off the sofa and ran out of the café towards my parents' car, as if it were for my life. When I returned to my date, he quickly joked about them trying to have a sneak peek through the café window, which was all too possible. My parents knew better than to completely embarrass me, though, and kept their heads well and firmly focused on the road as they drove off. We laughed as I slowly calmed down... for a moment.

    With the first dating no-no ticked off the list, I quickly proceeded to jokingly calling him a whore as he talked about hoarding things. (Oh, look at me and my wit: whore and hoarder sound almost the same! Someone slap me). He laughed it off as I instantly regretted my dose of verbal diarrhoea, keeping my smile firmly planted nonetheless. We then entered the tricky conversational landscape that is politics, combined with LGBT affairs and religion. Seriously, it was like I was giving this guy reasons to step away slowly, and ask the police for a restraining order. With each topic that came up, I genuinely thought that I was doing worse.

    Somehow, he wasn't scared off. We laughed, and were both surprised at how many things we had in common. He even wanted to stay for a second coffee, before asking if I wanted to go for a walk in the park, which was nicer than I expected. More laughs were had, and I calmed down a bit. I had no idea what he really thought of me after my numerous faux-pas, but he ticked the right boxes for me. Rugby build, with gorgeous brown eyes, and a voice and accent to rival Colin Farrell.

    As the date came to an end, he surprisingly asked if I wanted a lift into the city, or back to my home in the suburbs. I asked for a lift back into town, but as we were lost in conversation about travel once we got there, he asked again if I'd prefer to be dropped home.

    I'd feel bad, I said shyly. I've already taken you up on a lift into town; now I just feel like I'm taking advantage.

    Don't worry about it, he said in a very cool, calm manner. I'm enjoying the conversation. There was a pause in the conversation – albeit brief – where he took his eyes off the road and we smiled at each other.

    Somehow, despite having a terrible case of foot-in-mouth disease and seemingly overbearing parents (who in fairness, aren't at all) he didn't seem too fazed. If he didn't enjoy himself, he did an amazing job at pretending. There was even a moment of disappointment when we eventually had to say goodbye.

    Just to be on the safe side, though, maybe I should just stay quiet for the second date...!

    Last Chance

    The guy from my last disastrous date somehow wanted seconds, and I couldn't believe my luck. Here was a handsome guy – 5'7", rugby-player build, gorgeous brown eyes, and a voice that seemed to make me melt – who didn't seem phased by the endless list of mistakes I made on our first date. For the rest of the day,

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