This is it, I’m afraid. It’s the end of the road. It’s the last days of Rome. It’s the Final Countdown (do do doooo do, do do doo do dooo).

Yep, in news which will no doubt leave both of my readers crippled under a monumental wave of indifference, I must announce that it is the last in this series of my dating escapades.

And what a journey it has been. I’m currently sitting in my front room, typing next to a pile of old bank statements, but for the sake of this last article let’s just imagine that I’m standing on a beach, looking contemplative as I stare across a stormy sea. It might also help to read this in Morgan Freeman’s voice, but that’s your call.

It’s always nice when things have a happy ending. If Woody and Buzz had ended up shouting for their lives as they were slowly recycled into plastic juice bottles, I’m sure the film wouldn’t have been quite such a box office success.

In the same sense, I’d love to be able to tell you that my venture into the world of London dating has sparked amazing results, and that I’ve managed to meet the love of my life. I’d love to be able to say that she’s sitting here on the sofa beside me, chattering along to every word that I write with her siren-like voice. But she isn’t. Instead I’ve got a Lasagne for one and a copy of ‘Loneliness for Dummies’. Boo bloody hoo.

But that’s fine. As I said way back in my first article, I am a happily single man. I’ll admit that if I did somehow manage to stumble across my ideal woman, it would be hard not to be enthusiastic, but the chances of running into Jennifer Aniston at a speed dating event in Clapham are slim to none, and that’s a fact I need to learn to live with.

From the very beginning, I’ve always had my own rule not to settle for someone who isn’t the ideal match (just to keep the cold night air that one step further away), and I think in some respects that’s been my saving grace.

It’s a well known fact that desperation isn’t an attractive quality, so the modern dating scene is left with an almost paradoxical whiff about it: the more than a man/woman actually wants to find a date, the less likely that he/she is to succeed. I’m not generally one for giving tips, but if you do actually want to get out there and meet someone, embrace your inner thespian and act as if you couldn’t give a damn. “Oh what, you’d like to take me to dinner? Hmm...well I suppoooose I could. How does Friday in three weeks sound?”

Of course this is all insincere, masking any genuine emotion for the sake of progress, but what isn’t nowadays? Go and watch one episode of ‘The Only Way Is Essex’ then try telling me that there’s any sentiment left in the world today: modern society is just a slow descent into a pit of spray-on tan, made-up words (‘reem?’ really?!) and tooth whitener, so it’s probably best just to jump on board now while you’ve got the chance.

My original intention was to pit the different forms of dating against one another to see which was best, but I quickly realised that it’s difficult to just state that one is better than the other. After all, it’s all subjective.

If, for example, you make a terrific first impression but then tend to go wrong after a week or so (when they realise that your ‘eccentric wit’ was in fact just racism in disguise), then speed dating is probably best for you. Here you can meet a partner, impress them over the course of three minutes and then secure another date before they’ve had time to spot your weakness. Obviously, it’ll probably fall apart eventually, but it’s still your best bet.

On the other hand, if you’re like me and can string a sentence or two together on paper/PC, but tend to stumble into furniture and spill drinks on prospective partners in real life, then online dating is probably best. That way you can meet someone, let them get to know your personality first and hopefully they’ll already be invested enough that they’re not repulsed when you throw red wine all over their lap by accident on the first date.

It has been an adventurous couple of weeks for me, a man who is usually content just to sit and talk with friends rather than ‘pushing out the boat’, trying to flirt with random women on a night out. With the exception of one incredibly awkward night at a Tooting drug den and a strangely-enthusiastic evening at a Clapham gay bar, it’s been an enjoyable experience for me, and I’d recommend that others step outside of their comfort zones to give it a go.

I feel as if I’ve covered the basics of the dating world, so be ready to embrace the more surreal side of the London social scene when I return for my second series of singles articles.

Next Week: I’ll be sitting around in my pajamas eating fajitas, watching ‘Glee’ and not writing about it.