Saturday, February 05, 2011

Where's the Catch? (or More on Online Dating)

I was really rather nervous about yesterday's date. Of all of the men off the site so far, this one seemed to be the most suited to me. And that's never a good sign, you know? Someone so good on paper that there must be a catch some where.

I'd deliberately decided against messaging too much before meeting up because I didn't want there to be a situation in which someone feels they know way too much about someone even before meeting, because, face it, a first date is a first date. Don't ruin it by being too familiar or not having anything to talk about.

On the day itself, I was a bit of a mess. I desperately wanted a shower, having had Power Plate in the morning (it's not so sweaty that you need to shower else you stink, but, at some point, you definitely want to get yourself all nice and clean), I thought my nice new dress was a little too long (just under my knee, while my preferred length is above the knee, so I don't look like a midget) and kept slipping down to reveal glimpses of my bra (something I really don't approve of), I had random spots appearing on my face, and, horror of horrors, massive undereye circles. In short, I thought I looked a bit of a mess. And to add to that, I was carrying some work home!

So, in a bid to get home before meeting with him in the evening, I texted him to let him know I'd be late by 10 minutes. He replied that he was running late too, so could we meet 45 minutes later than our original time? Fine with me as that would give me time to have a nice shower and touch up my make-up. I refused to change the dress because that would have been trying too hard, though I did try and adjust the bow so that it wouldn't keep slipping down.

Then I got another message (I'd missed his calls while in the bathroom). He was going to be another 30 minutes late. At least.

Ah, I thought. So there's the catch.

I abhor people who are late (although I allow for a 15 minute window) but, in this case, I didn't mind too much. For one thing, this small idea of perfection that had built up in my head was now no longer perfect. And, perversely, it allowed me to relax a little.

So, I waited there patiently in my three inch heels and listening to happy songs on my iPod until he arrived*, by which time I was absolutely starving and incapable of coherent thought.

Off we went to scout for a place for dinner, rather than non-threatening drinks (dinner means you have to sit through a main course and coffee even if you don't like the other person), and had a wonderful time getting to know each other once I managed to fill that black hole inside me.

I'm the first person he's met off the site as he just hadn't had the time to follow up on other people he'd messaged, he admitted, which he said I should take as a good sign. I teased him right back saying, nah, the first person you meet is usually the practice date, isn't it?

His response? "Well, it's not as if you're the first person I've ever had a date with in my entire life" with a smile on his face (which, as an aside, is a good thing, because I've been in that situation before some time in the last three years).

By the time we arrived at the tube station, I'd made up my mind and invited him to the concert I'm going to next weekend. I'd bought a spare ticket just in case I managed to find someone I wouldn't mind spending pre-Valentine's Day with, even though I was pretty sure I was just going to ask P. to come with me in the end, but... yes, for some reason, this guy ticked all the right boxes, and, hopefully, he'll take me up on my offer!

* He arrived a full hour and 45 minutes after the original meeting time, but, it was due to work reasons, something I can understand, even though he works in a completely different profession than I do. I did tell him that I'm not usually that patient, which he took as a compliment!

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