Friday night. Date night. He was late, I was nervous. I was nervous because I wasn’t sure I was up for another 2 hours of checking my watch every 10 minutes and making small talk and wishing I was somewhere else. I was also nervous because I admit I liked the look of his profile and I really did not want him to be boring, or to be a head shorter than me, particularly as I resorted to wearing my long jeans with my new pewter peep-toe heels (these jeans are too long to wear with flats, but they are great jeans because they give the illusion that my legs are much slimmer than they actually are, hence they are my favourite!). I was also nervous because texting with someone whose first language is not english can result in some potentially disasterous misunderstandings. I received a text message from him saying “I’m going” just as I arrived. I frantically glanced at my watch…no I wasnt late…what…? I hesitated in the alleyway, almost turned to go and reconsidered…I returned the text message with “Im here, just getting a drink” and received a reply “about 10 minutes”. Ah ok, apparently a slight mix-up, he was “leaving” as in, he was late and still on the bus, translate: He is on his way.
Ok, buy drink, seat oneself on couch in the corner. Text him to advise I have a drink and have settled on the couch in the corner, and just to avoid confusion…blue handbag (strategically placed on couch).
I saw him walk in and, curse my bad eyesight and inability to judge depth and height accurately! I could not determine how tall he was from where I was sitting on the couch. He catches me eye and walks over. Ok, so the spot on the couch gave me a great vantage point for observing people entering, but in 15 minutes people had pulled up seats all around so it was literally an obstacle course for him to get in and me to get out. We stand there smiling stupidly at each other over the heads of two burly men who were enjoying an afternoon drink but who were also seated so as to block our path. He gestured that he was going to go to the bar so I sat and waited for him to return. Finally he manages to get to the couch and I stand to say hi and give him a kiss on the cheek. whew! he is only a smidgeon shorter than me with my heels on. This is a good start (apart from the burly men observing I tried as hard as I good not to look nervous or embarrassed and prayed that this didn’t look to everyone else in the bar like it was a first date).
He was lovely. Polite, complimentary (he asked if I was 27 or 28- he couldn’t remember what I had said on my profile) Ah! Beautiful man! 32 I corrected him, and he look confused (bonus points for looking genuinely surprised). We talked about study (he wants to do his PhD next year), cooking (of which neither of us do much but we like the thought of being good cooks), we talked about my family, we talked about his family, we talked about past relationships and the reasons for getting ourselves onto an internet dating site. We talked about exercise he rather apologetically mentioned that he is normally a lot stockier but he has not done much exercise lately and he loses weight when he exercises. I laugh and say I have the opposite problem! Again, he looks confused “but you are so slim!” he says. Bless him.
After we finish our drinks we adjourn to the coffee shop around the corner because it is far too difficult to talk in the bar as it is getting loud and crowded. He orders hot chocolate, I order coffee, “but wont you have trouble sleeping drinking coffee so late?” he asks, indeed not, caffeine does not have that effect on me. We joke and laugh and tease each other for another hour or so, he shares his marshmallows with me and we decide to call it an evening. We walk very slowly back to the mall where I intend to get a cab home and he intends to do a spot of window shopping before the lights go out. we say our goodbyes and I am left wondering two things:
1. That was a surprisingly pleasant evening.
2. I have no idea if he wants to see me again.
And then I start to worry about the fact that I could not determine how he felt the evening went. He said he had a good time, but he could just have been saying that to be polite. I mean, what man decides he wants to end a date to go shopping??? The more I thought, the more I became convinced that I would not be hearing from him again. I briefly catch up with an ex-work colleague for a quick drink and to download to him how the date went. He promptly told me that I have a negative personality and that I shouldnt always assume the worst. Ok, so he might be a little correct, but thats only because I have been disappointed so many times before! And Im still heartbroken, and I still dont know what I want but I know that rejection is certainly not going to help my situation!
I go home and ponder my negative personality. Am I really that negative? Having read through some of my blog, I am shocked to discover- he may be more correct than I had initially realised. So I go to bed repeating in my head a heap of positive affirmations that I had started to tell myself when I was practicing some positive psychology techniques a few weeks ago (admittedly I have let the practice slide a little lately).
I sleep badly, darned coffee.
When I wake up on Saturday I am late for mum and dads so I frantically pack an overnight bag and get up to the farm to help out with putting the covers over the fruit trees to keep the birds out. At lunchtime I check my email to discover an email from The Brazilian which had been sent the night before. I wont bore you all with every detail but basically it enquired as to whether I got home ok, reaffirmed that he had a lovely evening, told me Im beautiful and that I have a beautiful smile.
Yep, I think it’s safe to say that the outlook is good for a second date in the not too distant future.