For once, I was on best behaviour. Polishing my halo.
I found myself being invited to the cinema. The cinema is the WORST idea for a first date. The purpose of a first date is to interrogate and determine whether the other person is worth wasting anymore time on. I had little else to do so I went along with it but suggested dinner first.
As with most cinemas, there is normally a Nando’s or similar chain restaurant across the car park. So, logically we decided to meet there. He booked the cinema in advance, to avoid disappointment.
First impressions: Apparently he is 6’. I thought I was say 5’5” ish. However, I must have grown since my last measurement. Fine, everyone loves an optimist.
Dinner was fine. Conversation was pretty good. He was training for an Ironman *tick*, enjoyed extreme sports *tick*, well-read *tick*, good sense of humour *tick*. Basically, he had a lot going for him. Impressive. 6’ lie just a distant memory.
Half-way through my chicken burger, he admitted to having booked the wrong cinema. Excellent. It was “just a short drive away” rather than across the car park. Completely defeated the object. Anyway.
So far, not too bad despite minor hiccups.
Walking out of the restaurant he broke the news that he didn’t have a car. Good job one of us did. Commented on my very impressive driving and reversing skills (for a woman). He was full of compliments. Must have been after something. Suspicious.
I then endured the entirety of The Lion King with my hand being caressed and my thigh being stroked. Like, don’t get me wrong, I am not a complete prude, but OMG A PUBLIC DISPLAY OF AFFECTION IS JUST NOT MY BAG. In public, just don’t touch me.
My hand was then held out of the cinema and his face was abnormally close to my face as we stood in line, in the car park, for the ticket machine. MY SPACE. YOUR SPACE. I’m not 16, I’m not about to SNOG you in the middle of a car park. Apparently, this made me ‘classy’. Presumably this was a complement. Yes, that would be another one. He was definitely up to no good. Life hack; being nice gets you nowhere.
I have no idea what vibe I was giving off other than being my awkward self but conveniently HE MISSED HIS TRAIN HOME. Wonderful. Funny that. The film HE booked finished at 23:00 and the last train departed just after 22:30.
So, I dropped him outside the nearest taxi rank. Nice to meet you, byeeeeeeee.
He was actually a nice guy and I am probably painting him in a very poor light but: 1) Social contact is a big no-no for me. Hugs, hand holding etc. Get off me and preferably stay 10 steps behind; 2) Get a car because public transport in the Midlands is not to be relied upon and I’m no taxi; and 3) 5’ something, not 6’. It’s not a secret.
I’ve retired from dating until I need more content. Over and Out.