This is the second instalment of my bad dates. You can read the first, Elbow John, here.
Many moons ago I was returning to London from Liverpool with my best friend, having painted the town red for New Year several nights on the run.
The train was delayed and we were stuck mid journey for about 4 hours. Which, wasn’t bad at all as we had been sat next to a very tall, very muscley, very pleasing to the eye young man. He was chatty, funny and good-looking. All the things that I usually don’t attract.
At the end of the journey he asked for my number and in the coming weeks he called and we arranged a date.
I say “we”, what actually happened on that call was this; “yeah, so, Saturday, I’ll pick you up in a cab at 6pm, early I know, but necessary, don’t eat, wear something amazing!”. Oh the flutters! Obviously the ‘look amazing’ bit demanded a shopping spree so off I went for a new outfit. Suitably attired I was ready on time and at 6pm sharp the door bell rang. It wasn’t a cab.
The driver of the car greeted me good evening whilst Posh Boy got out, held the door back and waved me in. As we drive to central london, we chatted, laughed and he put his hand on my knee…oh God, he’s touching my leg, stay calm I told myself as I had visions of a red blush rash slowly creeping up my me to my beetroot face!
We arrived in Haymarket at a very trendy restaurant and the Waiter ushered us to a table. I was a bit bemused by the whole date / eating saga and nearly died of fright when Posh By suggested I tried the steak – I didn’t dare for the fear of it wedging itself between my teeth for the rest if the night.
I order a seafood risotto. Safe option. Nothing to stick in the teeth and minimal chewing required. “Uuphhh..” he said after I’d half eaten it.. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I hate fish and that bloody stinks!!”.
I wanted the floor to open and suck me in. I was on a date with the best guy I’d met in ages and he thought I stunk of fish!! How was the date going to go well after that little bombshell?? From bad to worse, that’s how.
Post fish risotto, he guided me to the cocktail bar, hand pressed firmly in the lower arch of my back (I’m swooning at the memory if it!) and pulled out a stool which I elegantly declined..”back in a moment”.
I glided off to the ladies, hair swishing behind me like a peacock raising its feathers. I emptied my bag out on the counter. Chewing gum. I need chewing gum! I didn’t have any chewing gum. Oh! Yes! There it was stuck in the corner of an inside pocket, a solitary dried up Air Wave. Life saver.
I strutted out of the toilet, up the stairs, across the restaurant and through the bar to elegantly perch myself on the bar stool. “I ordered you a cosmopolitan” he said, “I thought all girls like those“. Seriously!! This guy was unbelievable.
And then, horrified, he winced at me “are youuuu chewwwing gum?”. Think! Quick, think! I didn’t want to say yes because then he’d know I was trying to disguise fish breath. I thought I had been doing a good job of sucking it but a random munch must have slipped in.
I just let out a girly laugh, he laughed, I laughed a bit more… A bit too hard. The chewing gum fell out of my mouth and made its way somewhere south toward the floor. HORRIFIED! He laughed harder.
Ok I was getting slightly paranoid now. When he caught his breath he put his hand on my knee, leant in close and said.. “this counts as THE most memorable date I have ever been on: you have stunk of fish, you have spat chewing gum on the floor of a very exclusive cocktail bar and you have rather casually walked from the lady’s room to the restaurant, to the bar, with what looks like a full roll of Andrex attached to your shoe!”.
I looked down. Andrex. Everywhere. A long long chain of it dangling from my heel. I think I went the colour of a dead person. What could I do but laugh? It was over. I’d lost my chance at securing myself a rich Posh Boy.
As we left the cocktail bar I noticed that the stray chewing gum wasn’t stray at all. It had landed quite nicely on his leg which his amazing muscles had squashed. Great, I had breathed him to Nausea, spat on him and stuck chewing gum to his pants!!
Quite surprisingly, he thoroughly enjoyed the entertainment of it and asked me out again!! Posh Boy and I dated for quite a while until one day, he called me his ex-girlfriend’s name. The, he was well and truly DUMPED!