Wednesday, 3 March 2010

proper grown up dating

I'm going on a date tonight. I think this will be the first date I've been on where I haven't either drunkenly snogged or slept with the person in question beforehand. Generally, those encounters have ended fairly disastrously, so I promised myself I'd start doing things the right way round. So here we go - after twenty two years, finally, proper grown up dating.

The man is Mr A. It's too early to assign him an appendage (in manner of Lovely G or Fit N) because, actually, I don't know that much about him. All I know is that he has a BMW, works as an IT consultant, and is a little on the short side (but not shorter than me - phew).

This is how we met. It was New Year's Eve - the most recent one. He's a friend of a friend's boyfriend (not as tenuous as it sounds). It was after midnight and we were both tipsy. He handed me his phone. I looked at it, not sure what I was supposed to do with it. He said, "give me your number". So I did. Then I wandered away, swaying slightly in my heels.

We've been texting quite a lot since then. There have been two nights out when he has been out too, but on both occasions he failed to approach me. Apparently he's terribly shy. Well, as far as I'm concerned there is a fine line between shyness and rudeness, so if he turns out to be the latter, this will be our first and last date.

He got a grip and "manned up" after one night when I got bored of waiting for him to talk to me, and instead decided to devote my evening to Sexy M (who, unfortunately, turned out to be Philandering M. The less said about that the better, although in my defence I didn't realise he was 19). When I got home that night, Mr A sent me a message, asking if I wanted to go for a drink.

And I did. So we are. Wish me luck!



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