Dating – The Boy – First Date – 4th Jan
After my lovely time with Andy fizzled out, I had a bit more confidence in the whole dating game. He had been wonderful company, generous, loving and amazing in bed. We just weren’t compatible in the end, I think I was a bit too bonkers for him.
So, after a bit of a melancholy Christmas, I decided to give my nemesis, Plenty of Fish one last go.
And, after swiftly deleting lots of unsuitable suitors (learned that lesson before, time wasters need not apply), I was left with about four interesting, potentially eligible, guys. The one I was least interested in kept messaging me, but I was distant. He didn’t fit my ‘type’ at all, but he was interesting. He gave me his number after messaging a few times, but I ignored it. I kept him at arms length as I wasn’t really ready to date again, I made the excuse to myself that I just didn’t have time. I’m a mother, I have a new work project, I have a house to build, I need to lose 20lbs… I was pretty good at convincing myself.
I’d been chatting to a few other guys, but this one kept my attention. After the other conversations quickly got tired, he was still there, being funny and charming, and normal. He wasn’t risqué, or arrogant, or demanding. It was refreshing! By this time, I had become so bored of “How’s you??” and, “Hey babes, nice lips ;-)” from random guys, that I messaged The Boy and told him I was removing myself from POF as it was slowly driving my crazy, I didn’t have time and was generally disinterested. I gave him my number because, well, there was just something about him. Logged myself off POF, and that was that.
Then what happened was quite unexpected. I was waiting for him to message me. You know that little frission of anticipation that you feel? I stalked my screen every ten seconds, and then,
Monday 2 Jan – 19:02 “Well good evening. 😊 Xx”
We chatted for hours about Disney, pizza, family, ambition, getting fit & fresh sheets. He was witty and intelligent, and knew the difference between there, their and they’re. We arranged a drink at my own First Dates bar.
As I got ready, I was excited! He’d admitted that he didn’t usually go on dates and was pretty nervous, setting me perfectly at ease. Being at least a stone overweight and pasty as hell wasn’t even getting me down. I threw on my best ‘cover all sins’ reasonable outfit and off I went. It was just a drink, nothing was going to happen, I was taking this one sloooowly.
As I approached the nerves kicked in. That awkward split second when you are looking around for someone you’ve never met before. ‘I’m the dude in the hat’ was all I had to go on. And then I spotted him. Tall, louche, casual, and sexy as hell. Our eyes met and he smiled the best cheeky smile, and that was it…
No awkward conversation, lots of gin and a few hours later and we realised that we were both really hungry. The kitchen had closed so we left to find somewhere that would feed us, we stepped outside giggling like children and then he grabbed me and kissed me, totally out of the blue. He was big and confident and Alpha. That was it, I was hooked. We found somewhere willing to feed us given the late hour, and spent the rest of the night laughing, talking and being silly. Perfect first date.
As the night drew to a close it became abundantly clear that neither of us wanted to leave, and I woke up the next day wrapped up in his arms. Damn. That was not supposed to happen…