After the shameful dates of #7 and #8, I’ve been wondering if I once again needed to become a little more discerning in my choice of meet. There’s one thing for going on 52 dates, but the drive of ‘needing’ a date has led me to go and meet men which, perhaps in normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have met. Not that this is a bad thing mind you. With my long list of criteria, being forced to meet alternatives is a good thing. But, having had two dates not go so well, I was feeling a little dismal.
I decided to be productive for Date #9 as, though we had spoken for many months on Grindr, no date had ever been set and I was wondering if I might, like #5, have a last minute cancel. So, I headed into town – shopping, reading in the park and the six monthly sexual health MOT was in order – though perhaps the latter might not be the best idea just before you supposed to be going on a date if bad news is received. With a clear screen and a bag burgeoning with condoms (where have freedom’s gone?! Getting free condoms from the health clinic is one thing, but having them in Soho bars is surely far better for the safe sex message), I headed off with slight anticipation for the latest man in my life.
Date 9 was, and is, sexy with a smile (I’m smiling about him as I write). 25, hair stylist, local to me due to my Grindr coverage, and pretty much out which I highly respect in the asian community. It’s a good sign when five minutes in you’re already wanting to kiss someone. I introduced him to Patisserie Valerie and flirted over cakes in Compton Street, despite the rather abrupt and poor waitressing (Marshall Street and Spitalfields have MUCH better service). We bantered about his bling, about his Saturday night drunken antics, about the fact that we’ve been chatting on Grindr for months yet have never really taken the opportunity to meet. We drank Pornstar Martini’s at Freedom and flirted more, me knowing that I really fancied him now as not only did I still want to kiss him, but I didn’t dare touch him either – a common trait when I like someone. I now know more about styling than I ever have in my entire life, but with the knowledge also comes a sexy guy who is so passionate and enthusiastic about his job that you can’t help but be enthralled. It’s normally me that’s chatting away like a rampant budgie on dates, and it was refreshingly blissful to sit back and simply enjoy the company of someone who’s on your wavelength and is a lot of fun to be around. Also, his love of tea scores brownie points, and when you factor in a love for a good strong cuppa after a pissup before bed, there a major points involved.
Living in the same direction, we both headed home on the Central Line, not having had a kiss and knowing that a mid-carriage snogathon couldn’t really happen. We talked all the way, making the 30minute journey feel about five minutes and there was a notable appearance from Meera Syal (she’s lives in my hood dont ya know). I complimented his bum when he jumped off for the overground, he complimented mine by text a few minutes later. I really hope I see him again, because I could have quite happily spend the entire night chatting away. And its safe to be said, any amount of unexciting dates are worth the feeling that I have right now.