I got to know Brenda through a dating app. She had recently been divorced and was lonely. I wanted someone who wanted me. We talked on the phone, and exchanged photos, texts and emails. Our interests were similar but not an exact match. We both liked history but she also liked philosophy. I loved watching sport. She didn't hate it but would be prepared to watch Bournemouth (amazingly still a Premier League team) if we could get tickets.
I had to admit to Brenda that my knowledge of the World's Greatest Ever Thinkers was through the Monty Python song, which contained the lyric "Socrates himself was permanently pissed."
I knew Socrates from an advert which had his dictum 'An unexamined life isn't worth living.' It struck me as a silly thing to write. Everyone examines their own life, perhaps not always, like the Pet Shop boys, 'with a sense of shame' but examine it they do.
Apparently Socrates made people aware that they don't know what they think they know. This isn't a great leap forward. In these days of Twitter you get to see this lack of understanding exposed with monotonous regularity. Most people seem to prefer memes to thinking for themselves. And the politicians worldwide take advantage of this. In America the meme went "drain the swamp" and in Britain it was "Get Brexit Done". Neither was clear what it meant. But both got a man elected.
I lived in Southampton. She lived about an hour's train journey from me in Bournemouth. After 6 months of virtual contact I agreed to travel to Bournemouth to meet her. She wrote "Smart casual jeans, tee shirt and trainers for a simple lunch. Meet me at the Mary Shelley, its opposite St Peter's church. I have booked table 21 for us. See you there at Noon on Saturday. Love xxx."
I was glad that we were meeting in such a public place. After all meeting an online date can be dangerous. You hear dreadful tales of ladies being abducted, raped and even murdered. Brenda had chosen well. Me waiting at table 21 meant she could see me and decide I wasn't her cup of tea.
Additionally the Mary Shelley has code words which trigger various responses from the staff. The most extreme meant the staff would call the police. Another meant the staff would call a taxi and a staff member would accompany the lady to it.
The code words are posted in the ladies loo. A lady being given a hard time by her date, or husband or partner, can even text the code words to the staff.
I am aware that men are also scammed so I am careful in case Brenda is just after my money. The 'love bombers' tell their victim how much they love them. It ends only when the scammer take the woman's or man's life savings. And it is not just heterosexual men who are scammed.
One of my gay friends was taken in by a 'love bomb' scammer. He gave the man £100 for a 'lost phone'. The love bomber then spun a yarn about deciding he would leave the job he worked in (in Australia). He wanted to come back to live with my friend as he loved him, heart body and soul.
Then my friend sent £1,000 to get his 'lover' a plane ticket. This was supposedly just a loan. Then, just before my friend's lover was due to fly to Heathrow 'a good friend had a serious illness'. He had to forgo the ticket, even though it was non refundable.
A week later, the friend needed 'urgent medical treatment' and could he loan him £5,000. Luckily my friend's bank spotted this as a possible scam. They blocked the payment. Like a fool my friend tried to argue that it was 'true love'.
His bank insisted that this was highly unlikely. They strongly suggested that my friend contact the police. He emailed his lover to tell him he needed some proof of identity before the bank would allow the transfer. That ended all contact.
It turned out the photo of his 'lover' was an American Army officer. He has the distinction of having his photo most used by scammers. The British owned firm he was working for in Australia had never heard of the man. Even the email address was false. And the police couldn't trace the criminal.
Often the scammer lives in Asia but pretends to live in Britain, Australia or America. My friend saw a video of someone tracing a professional scammer. He hoped that at least one scammer would end up behind bars. When the man couldn't get to the scammer, my friend cried. He hadn't only lost a significant amount of money but also felt used and abused.
He is cheered by a whole host of YouTube videos showing scammers being exposed. The British banks have now tightened their defences against scammers. They ask their customers more questions about large or unusual payments. They warn their customer that giving untrue answers will mean that they will lose their money. They record the questions and the answer.
But scamming still remains a £multi-billion industry. And don't get me started on cult leaders. How can one man so dominate others that he gets all the male followers to give him their wives? And then the husbands listen to him evaluate their wives' sexual performance in front of all the cultists.
A case on point is the Supreme Master Ching Hai, who claims she can 'channel God's inner light' Her followers have given her fabulous wealth. Enough to build an artificial island in a protected mangrove reserve in Florida. It speaks volumes that the Clintons returned her donation as 'being from a suspicious source'.
But I digress. But it remains true that meeting Brenda in person and in public is a kind of security arrangement for me and for her. How sick is society that security protocols are needed?
Anyway back to the important thing, me and Brenda meeting for the first time. She entered wearing expensive looking jewelry. She looked even better than in her photos. But something was different. But I had got past the 'let him stay on table 21 because I am out of here' test.
I said "I'm glad we finally get to meet"
She smiled and said "Hopefully the first of many."
We chatted and I ordered a fish and chip meal and a pint. Brenda ordered a baked potato with cheese and coleslaw and a soda water with lime. Our first face to face meeting was going really well.
I wasn't taken with the idea of having my photo taken by Mary Shelley's grave in the church opposite the pub. But as my return train was after 6 pm I still had time to kill after the meal. So we had a pleasant walk along the Lower Gardens. I asked Brenda if we could have some photos of us together, against each of the 4 ornamental tropical garden inserts and some more with parts of the large rockery as a background.
Brenda didn't really like the idea of bring photographed. But she agreed to take them with me as the human interest. It was the first indication that Brenda had body issues. But after taking lots of photos of me, she agreed to have a photo of us together. But it has to be one of us standing between 2 of the tropical garden inserts. We are dwarfed by the tall trees on either side of us as we stood, holding hands on the lawn. We looked insignificant with the trees dwarfing us.
Looking back I realise how hard it must have been for Brenda to have been in that photo. I was more occupied with the pleasant feeling of holding Brenda's hand. In my mind our first meeting had become our first date. I think the Council should put a Blue Plaque there. It would read 'This is the exact spot that Brenda Tomkins met Richard Smythe and he fell in love with her, and she with him."
It should become a place where men get down on one knee, or on leap years the woman, to propose. But there is no Blue Plaque and it is not noted for lovers proposing there. That shows how unromantic our society is. Truth to tell, the spot is mostly used by heavy drinkers, homeless people and vagrant travellers.
