Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Meeting the Old Fashioned Way

My heart is beating quickly and my eyes are about to jump out of my head. How did I get those signs wrong? I mean, we hadn't even held hands, yet I manage to duck and weave the end-of-date-peck-on-the-cheek scenario.

Shit, what have I done? I really like this guy and now he's thinks we've moved into 'friends' territory. This is not good.

In my defense, there wasn't the awkward staring at each other/what do we do now moment.

I thanked him for a lovely date, said we should catch up again before I duck my head and jump into the waiting taxi.

I do this at the exact moment my date leans in for said mentioned peck.
Shit. I realise I snubbed him as I am sitting safely in the back of the taxi, which is heading in the opposite direction.

I did manage to tell him I'd message him when I was home. Surely that would help my chances, anyone?

I text him when I'm home and he replies thanking me for coming to his mate's birthday drinks and tells me he's in a cab on his way home. There isn't any mention of enjoying the date too....I really did screw this one up.

But I should start at the beginning. I'd met this guy during a girls' night out in the Valley. I chatted to him for about 10 minutes, he and his mates were leaving the bar and he's like I'd ask you for your number, but I don't have my phone. I of course ask why not? Because everyone spends all night on their phones on Facebook (true, but....), he replies. 

What if someone has to get in contact with you? I'm not that important, he says.

"I have a pen!" I exclaim (I wasn't going to put his number in my phone. No sireee. The guy has to get the girl's number). That's old school, he says. So he grabs a napkin from the bar and I find myself writing my name and number down. How cliche. I have turned into one of those girls.

I fold it up and give it to him (because if it's small noone will realise what I've just done). I'll hear from you in a week when you find this in your jeans pocket? I ask. Nooooo, he says.

He leaves and I continue my night, not thinking much about this guy or if he would actually text. I had already lined up my first Tinder date so I wasn't too concerned with him messaging.

It was actually refreshing to know you still can meet people the old fashioned way and not everyone is suited for this online dating caper (the jury is still out).

The next day he texts saying he was the guy from the bar last night and how did my night end up? I was shocked. I mean this guy has actually text when he said he would. They usually get your number and you never hear from them again.

This act alone set him apart from the others ('cause there's so many).

We messaged back and forth for the next few days until I realised he wasn't going to actually ask me out on a date. So me being me, I ask him if he's free on the weekend and we line up a late afternoon Saturday date. He had a friend's birthday drinks to go to afterwards, which gave him a perfectly good out if our date went south.

Before we're supposed to meet I get a text from him asking if I remembered what he looked like? Ummmm, yeah, I think so, I reply. Of course I remembered! How drunk did he think I was??

The date was great. A few vodkas in and we both seemed quite comfortable and I find out he likes entertainment news and gossip like I do and he also loves movies (massive tick).

After about three hours and a few mentions of "I really should get to my mate's drinks..." he asks me go with him. Yeah, would love to, as long as your friend doesn't mind, I say. No, of course not.

So we jump in a taxi and next minute I'm being introduced to my date's mates. Gotta say this is a first. Haven't met the guy's mates so early on in the relationship.

Everything was going well. There was a DJ playing vinyl records, we were spending equal amounts of time chatting to each other and also mingling with the rest of the guests. There was the right amount of leg touching going on.

I'd made mention of us having a movie night to watch a few cult films I hadn't seen. He even admitted to not watching The Notebook. "I forgot to tell you I'm a heterosexual male." Yeah, funny.

Turns out my date and I, the birthday boy and another couple are the last to leave the bar. I'd already spent seven hours on this epic date (longest first date in history for me) and I was ready to catch and taxi and head home. So was my date.

And this leads me to my earlier heart is beating quickly and my eyes are about to jump out of my head. How did I get those signs wrong?

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