I’m not exactly beating dates off with a shitty stick at the moment, (although by the end of this date, I was sorely tempted,) so when B asked me out, after meeting online a week ago, I figured why not.  Besides, TV’s not great on a Wednesday and I was avoiding the ironing.

 

I was trying something radical this time.  Something I’ve only ever tried once before.  (Something legal.)  Something so ‘out there’ that I really wasn’t sure how it would work out.

 

That’s right … I was going on a date with an older man.

 

I say older .. he was 43, but when you only ever date younger men, it was a big decision.  Y’know, broaden the horizons a bit.

 

One thing, however, began troubling me before we met.  He seemed keen.  I mean really keen.  He kept texting that he was really looking forward to meeting me.  OK, I thought at first, that’s sweet.  Then he kept doing it.  THEN … he said this could be the start of something great.

 

WTAF?  We hadn’t even met!  We’d only spoken on the phone once.  I mean, I know I’m pretty awesome, but still ….

 

We arranged to meet outside my local pub at 7.30pm.  Guess what time he got there?  That’s right … a whole lot earlier than 7.30pm!  Now I know I moan about men being late, but I find someone arriving that early a bit odd.  (I can hear throngs of men shouting, “WE CAN’T WIN!”  No, you can’t.  Get used to it.)

 

I got the taxi driver to drive past and pull over in the bus stop so I could check him out first.  My date that is, not the taxi driver – he wasn’t my type.  And my date looked nice enough.  He was very, very tall … 6ft 4” I’d say, bald head (don’t mind a man being follicly challenged,) and was dressed, ummm, OK ish.  (More of that later.)

 

I waved, kissed him on the cheek and we made our way into the pub.

 

As soon as I met B that I knew that I didn’t fancy him.  An honest admission but absolutely zero was going on in ‘my area.’  And you just know, don’t you, as soon as you meet someone, if you can have sex with them or not.  Or is it me that just tries to picture that with every man I meet?

 

Moving on … we sat down and began chatting, and he was really nice.  (Did I already mention he was nice?)  We both have children, so talked about them.  He lives fairly locally so we knew the same places.  We talked about previous dates, holidays, the weather, the weekend … usual first date chat.

 

And now his body language was indicating that he was still really keen.  He moved his body towards mine, kept ‘accidentally’ brushing my arms with his, sat forward in his chair, arms resting on the table, listening intently to the utter shite I was rabbiting on about.  I, on the other hand, couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable.

 

A couple of things that came up in that conversation did rankle a bit.  Firstly, I brought the conversation round to dreams and ambitions (speaking as a woman who plans to Take Over The World.)  I asked him if he had any ambitions in life or was he happy being a delivery driver (and don’t get me wrong, there’s absolutely nothing wrong at all with being a driver,) but he said that no, he had no ambitions to do anything else in life.  His job was “ok” and he “might as well stay doing the same thing.”  It seems that I’ve now realised that this is a bit of a deal breaker for me – I want to be with someone that dreams as big as I do.

 

The second thing, I may have misunderstood … BUT … when I showed him a photo of Dexter, he said nothing.  Fine.  I didn’t need him to.  But a minute later he then said, “So Dexter’s Dad is black then.”  I wasn’t sure how to take it, so replied, “Yeah.  Did his massive afro give it away?” then changed the subject.

 

may just be over-sensitive when it comes to my kids but the comment didn’t sit well.

 

He’d asked me out on another date within an hour of our first date, and I found his keenness (understandable) but overwhelming. I felt awful that I felt absolutely no morsel of lust whatsoever.  Absolutely nothing.  Because actually, overall, he was a decent guy.

 

I tried hard to fancy him.  I really did.

 

And then I noticed the jewelry.  The gold necklace, with matching bracelet AND gold ring, and I just knew that it could never be between us.  His mild halitosis was the final nail in our dating coffin.

 

I created an excuse to leave early and he offered to drop me home.

 

When we pulled up outside my house, my hand was already on the car door handle ready to peck him on the cheek and do a runner …. but his lips were waiting for me – big and rubbery and facing me as I turned round.  I pecked him on the lips but his big, giant clown hand was already on my leg and I knew I had to make a break for it before I got cuddled to death in his Mondeo.

 

Reading this back, I know I sound like a bitch.   I’m not.  I’m lovely.  Most of the time.  But a friend of mine who kindly commented on a previous post summed it up perfectly:

 

“You are gorgeous and will find someone, but it’s going to have to be a special someone. He’s out there, I’m sure. It’s just that he won’t be ‘run of the mill ordinary’ that’s all, so it might take a while to find him.”

 

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Published by Kate Sutton

Writer, Mother, Dater.

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