So, then: how are the dates going?
After Friday I was feeling down about it all and thinking maybe this dating business should be put back in its box for a while. Saturday’s date was postponed due to illness (to next Tuesday) which didn’t help. But on Sunday my date went ahead.
We met in the Greenwich Bar and Grill; went for a walk in Greenwich Park and ended up in the Rose and Crown (a nice gay bar). We got on fine and he was fun enough for muches smooches, but no second date! That’s OK. I realised although I’m disappointed he didn’t ‘like’ me, the pertinent issue is whether I ‘like’ him and… no. So he and I left it there.
Monday was for Sam and I; we had dinner at mine, and we had a gooood time. But it has been a bit tough to sustain things and I’m not sure we’ll really keep going. Who knows… we shall see – there is, after all, no rush.
Tuesday: I had a date with a very nice guy who is very much my type. He insisted on paying for dinner (squid salad for me) which I thought was lovely, and we talked over drinks for far longer than I had planned. I will confess I was a little… spooked, I suppose, by the fact he’s only a few months younger than me but had been in a 10 year relationship; got married even! And therefore is at quite the other end of the spectrum from me. He had some useful insights about how both people in a developing relationship need to feel; and how ‘dating’ puts too much pressure on gay men to find Mr Right straight away, almost requiring them to find love at first sight. On my way home I [by text] asked him out again and he today said yes!! So a second date in the offing, hurrah!
Tonight is my quiet night in… and then more dates... double-plus hurrah indeed.
Thursday I have a date in Dulwich with a guy I started chatting to on gaydar and, frankly, just fancied getting to know over just having a causal meet with. Then, after hosting a small soiree for friends on Friday, I have yet another date with yet another guy on Saturday.
Saturday and Tuesday are both in their mid-20s. Mr Tuesday and I get on very well so far; we have been exchanging texts and phoning each other a lot over the last couple of weeks and I have to be honest, holding off having our date for a little while rather than meeting at the earliest possible opportunity has actually worked rather well.
Mr Saturday is someone I’ve been chatting to on and off on gaydar and later on MSN though we’d never quite managed to hook up. So last week he asked forwardly me out, explaining he likes – and you might well, gentle reader, imagine my feelings about this – older men. Good job he’s a bit gorgeous.
Further updates as events warrant…
Showing posts with label second date. Show all posts
Showing posts with label second date. Show all posts
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
Monday, 29 December 2008
Hoof
I’ve been away gentle reader living it large in London town. A big gay peripatetic one man idiot, ha ha.
On Saturday I went to have dinner with a very good friend and over a vast amount of wine and lovely food we talked well into the early hours, leaving myself somewhat worse for wear for my second date with the guy I met on Christmas Eve.
After such an enjoyable evening my fear of being somewhat unpresentable was enhanced when he asked to meet me earlier than planned. However, as my friend was travelling (hungover, by coach, to Cardiff; a journey even worse in my view than any bad date) I could not really complain about my unfortunate state too much; and, as the coach station is near my office, I realised I could use the facilities there to freshen up. So at 11:30 Christmas and I met, the shadows under my eyes – if not those behind them – scrubbed away.
Christmas and I walked along the South Bank for a bit before stopping for a coffee at the British Film Institute. After coffee we went back to his place for a rather noisier occasion than we allowed ourselves on Christmas Eve...
Although we spent hours and hours together I couldn’t really spend the night as Christmas was going to work at 5am. He’s a television journalist and travels a lot. However, I was anyway due to meet International for drinks on the occasion of his return to London after a few days with his family, so that worked out OK.
At this point of course I’d had about one hour’s sleep in the last 36 and really was keen for an early night whatever else happened and after a mediocre Italian meal in Notting Hill we headed back to his place.
Unfortunately it was a somewhat bad-tempered date as things are still a bit awkward between us and being somewhat tired I was also quite irritable too. The problem, I have realised, with International is that he thinks too little of me; and ‘us’. Of course this makes me sensitive and, lacking emotional maturity as much as I am bed rest, this was not good.
We didn’t have a row as such but I felt bad for not being scintillating company and had a restless night. Yet many of the clouds were lifted in the sunlight and we had a nice Monday morning together over a lazy breakfast. I did some work from his place before he needed to head out, and I made my way home.
So where are we? A quiet night in, I think, for me before I get my head down and get some work done over the next few days. International is going to Florida for two weeks with his real boyfriend. And Christmas and I have our third date on New Years Day (dinner at my place, etc).
On Saturday I went to have dinner with a very good friend and over a vast amount of wine and lovely food we talked well into the early hours, leaving myself somewhat worse for wear for my second date with the guy I met on Christmas Eve.
After such an enjoyable evening my fear of being somewhat unpresentable was enhanced when he asked to meet me earlier than planned. However, as my friend was travelling (hungover, by coach, to Cardiff; a journey even worse in my view than any bad date) I could not really complain about my unfortunate state too much; and, as the coach station is near my office, I realised I could use the facilities there to freshen up. So at 11:30 Christmas and I met, the shadows under my eyes – if not those behind them – scrubbed away.
Christmas and I walked along the South Bank for a bit before stopping for a coffee at the British Film Institute. After coffee we went back to his place for a rather noisier occasion than we allowed ourselves on Christmas Eve...
Although we spent hours and hours together I couldn’t really spend the night as Christmas was going to work at 5am. He’s a television journalist and travels a lot. However, I was anyway due to meet International for drinks on the occasion of his return to London after a few days with his family, so that worked out OK.
At this point of course I’d had about one hour’s sleep in the last 36 and really was keen for an early night whatever else happened and after a mediocre Italian meal in Notting Hill we headed back to his place.
Unfortunately it was a somewhat bad-tempered date as things are still a bit awkward between us and being somewhat tired I was also quite irritable too. The problem, I have realised, with International is that he thinks too little of me; and ‘us’. Of course this makes me sensitive and, lacking emotional maturity as much as I am bed rest, this was not good.
We didn’t have a row as such but I felt bad for not being scintillating company and had a restless night. Yet many of the clouds were lifted in the sunlight and we had a nice Monday morning together over a lazy breakfast. I did some work from his place before he needed to head out, and I made my way home.
So where are we? A quiet night in, I think, for me before I get my head down and get some work done over the next few days. International is going to Florida for two weeks with his real boyfriend. And Christmas and I have our third date on New Years Day (dinner at my place, etc).
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Memories
Bar the mild overlap with Academic, and the occasional pre-planned date at around that time, I haven’t dated or… well, anything anyone else since International came onto the scene. I have, in truth, briefly flirted with some people – there was quite a clutch of young fellas a short while ago – but it all came to naught. And again, very recently I’ve been chatting to a guy on gaydar who turns out to be a very near neighbour – which for him seems to have ruled out fuzunjulation for some reason – and another guy of ‘Squirt’ who has simply disappeared (incidentally that does seem to happen more often on Squirt I’ve found than gaydar, detracting somewhat from the wider range of behaviours you can indulge there). Of course I’m not really looking, being consumed with International and far too busy with work.
Nevertheless I was somewhat pleasantly surprised when over the last week or so three ‘old flames’ – well, not old flames; old dates mostly - got in touch. Yes, T, R and even A (my very first date after Darren) have been in touch.
I thought it was quite sweet; naturally none of them is going “I’ve thought of nothing but you since that night we had a drink/kissed/the other thing” but it was good to hear from them even so. I shall always be particularly fond of T for various reasons and of the three if he wanted to meet up again then I’d be sorely tempted.
As it happens I’ve made up a little bijou rule-ette about this – as soon as it becomes clear that International and I are really just ‘having fun’ or exist in the of broadest terms like that, then I really will be out there again: but for the moment I am disinclined to do that. And that [he shrugs] is just how I feel.
As for International, we shall be seeing each other on Thursday just so I can see him; and if all goes well he shall be spending Monday night with me, hurrah! He’s out of the country between the two events so it fits well with his schedule which is something… I suppose. So this weekend I shall be cleaning and baking and just generally going for the 1950s-Housewife of the Year Award – and I may take at least a half day off work which may be no bad thing right now.
Saturday I am out with a friend and former colleague. I’ve been invited to something called “second bite of the cherry” which essentially is Eurovision but with each country’s runner up song rather than their actual entry. Sounds super smashing, and will run till long after the clocks go back - a good night out like that will be very, very welcome.
This moment, of course, a good night’s sleep will be very, very welcome so till next time; God Bless gentle reader. And to celebrate the world of work...
Nevertheless I was somewhat pleasantly surprised when over the last week or so three ‘old flames’ – well, not old flames; old dates mostly - got in touch. Yes, T, R and even A (my very first date after Darren) have been in touch.
I thought it was quite sweet; naturally none of them is going “I’ve thought of nothing but you since that night we had a drink/kissed/the other thing” but it was good to hear from them even so. I shall always be particularly fond of T for various reasons and of the three if he wanted to meet up again then I’d be sorely tempted.
As it happens I’ve made up a little bijou rule-ette about this – as soon as it becomes clear that International and I are really just ‘having fun’ or exist in the of broadest terms like that, then I really will be out there again: but for the moment I am disinclined to do that. And that [he shrugs] is just how I feel.
As for International, we shall be seeing each other on Thursday just so I can see him; and if all goes well he shall be spending Monday night with me, hurrah! He’s out of the country between the two events so it fits well with his schedule which is something… I suppose. So this weekend I shall be cleaning and baking and just generally going for the 1950s-Housewife of the Year Award – and I may take at least a half day off work which may be no bad thing right now.
Saturday I am out with a friend and former colleague. I’ve been invited to something called “second bite of the cherry” which essentially is Eurovision but with each country’s runner up song rather than their actual entry. Sounds super smashing, and will run till long after the clocks go back - a good night out like that will be very, very welcome.
This moment, of course, a good night’s sleep will be very, very welcome so till next time; God Bless gentle reader. And to celebrate the world of work...
Thursday, 18 September 2008
More about Ouch!
Yesterday saw a return visit to Das Boot with my former colleagues which was fun – though I didn’t really have a restful night’s sleep last night, and that will never do; I’m out again tomorrow with the guy I met on Tuesday. He wanted to see me tonight but no – I had not taken the extensive steps I require to make myself double plus pretty for a… well, not date – however much a rose by any other name might still smell the same.
I originally had plans tonight for a second date with one of the two who unwittingly were part in the Great Experiment; well, he cancelled – officially just postponed. Perhaps another time then, as we insincerely promised each other… and if that time is the second half of October then so much the better.
I confessed on Wednesday to my former colleagues that I had on a very small number of occasions had an assignation at work (though not with acutal colleagues). I didn’t dare reveal this or blog about it before lest I was sacked on the spot. The trysting place was an unused floor of the building and there truly was something very exciting it. Frankly, I missed the option today because I could have used the relief. The messages between this Tuesday guy and I have me getting very hot under the collar, gentle reader.
Tuesday’s guy: let us christen him International (as in Man of Mystery). He claims a need for discretion because he’s a public figure – and in fact next week he’s at the UN; thus explaining his need for urgency. He strongly suggested taking me to New York on Monday but I think I spy a little fib to help crowbar my pants off.
Well, we’re meeting on Friday in Soho. I know* we’re never going to be boyfriends, as ‘Ouch’ is still around. And I’m not infatuated – but he really makes me horny. Sorry, gentle reader, but the physical side, and in truth the promise of the physical side, is incredibly intense.
I sort of understand where this is coming from. International and Ouch have an age difference of 15 years or so and International – the younger party – feels the romance is gone from their relationship. Hence his intense physical side with me [pop psychology, anyone?]. He’s going to stay with Ouch but enjoy the thrill (if I’m not flattering myself) of being with yours truly.
Well, that’s what I think – and I’m fine with that. Considering the ongoing detox it’s nice timing really!
In other news I have finally booked a sexual health check up at my local GP surgery, though I must admit the receptionist at the surgery seed to have a little trouble grasping exactly what I needed, so I remain not 100% convinced of what’s going to happen next Tuesday – you’ll read it here first though!
I originally had plans tonight for a second date with one of the two who unwittingly were part in the Great Experiment; well, he cancelled – officially just postponed. Perhaps another time then, as we insincerely promised each other… and if that time is the second half of October then so much the better.
I confessed on Wednesday to my former colleagues that I had on a very small number of occasions had an assignation at work (though not with acutal colleagues). I didn’t dare reveal this or blog about it before lest I was sacked on the spot. The trysting place was an unused floor of the building and there truly was something very exciting it. Frankly, I missed the option today because I could have used the relief. The messages between this Tuesday guy and I have me getting very hot under the collar, gentle reader.
Tuesday’s guy: let us christen him International (as in Man of Mystery). He claims a need for discretion because he’s a public figure – and in fact next week he’s at the UN; thus explaining his need for urgency. He strongly suggested taking me to New York on Monday but I think I spy a little fib to help crowbar my pants off.
Well, we’re meeting on Friday in Soho. I know* we’re never going to be boyfriends, as ‘Ouch’ is still around. And I’m not infatuated – but he really makes me horny. Sorry, gentle reader, but the physical side, and in truth the promise of the physical side, is incredibly intense.
I sort of understand where this is coming from. International and Ouch have an age difference of 15 years or so and International – the younger party – feels the romance is gone from their relationship. Hence his intense physical side with me [pop psychology, anyone?]. He’s going to stay with Ouch but enjoy the thrill (if I’m not flattering myself) of being with yours truly.
Well, that’s what I think – and I’m fine with that. Considering the ongoing detox it’s nice timing really!
In other news I have finally booked a sexual health check up at my local GP surgery, though I must admit the receptionist at the surgery seed to have a little trouble grasping exactly what I needed, so I remain not 100% convinced of what’s going to happen next Tuesday – you’ll read it here first though!
Monday, 1 September 2008
The Experiment
So September then! And already it’s busy, busy, busy!
I started the new job today. I have a sore throat and a bit of a temperature; and I got a bit flustered on the way there as my train was very delayed and they closed the footpath on Westminster Bridge - meaning I had to play a few rounds of “Oh yeah? We’ll see who rusts first” with the traffic to get from A to B. But at B I did arrive, only a meritorious four minutes late.
I have a nice large desk in a nice large office. House of Fraser beneath me, a roof garden to the left of me, views of the most valuable real-estate in Christendom to the front of me. Very nice.
And on top of that four new clients hard on the heels of each other today – very exciting – plus a good (gay) friend of mine is keen to change jobs so I helped him with his CV; and of course my endless pursuit of man-flesh continues unabated.
Yes, a busy day! It means I haven’t really had much of a chance to have any real me time, but I love being busy so that’s just fine. Especially if it helps to pay for trips out to Banbury, and nights out in London.
And as if there wasn’t enough to occupy me, gentle reader, I hit today apon a scheme so cunning my head would explode if I even began to understand what I was thinking about.
I have (let te deums be sung in every church in the land) a second date with the Academic on Wednesday and for various reasons things have been pretty chaste so far. This business with the previous guy has got me feeling somewhat reticent about whether or not I should let things progress to sex when we meet. I’m not staying the night and it would be nice to see how things go with this one… of course, I can get far too excited to care (he is a very passionate kisser which is a double plus turn-on for me) so who knows?
But, I also have a date on Thursday. I have been exchanging texts messages with this guy for a while now and they have taken on a somewhat adult character of late – well, blisteringly pornographic really – with no real end in sight. I think it is fairly clear that we will meet at a ‘scene‘ venue, and pretty quickly heading back to his place for… naughtiness.
That, however, makes me wonder whether this will be a one night stand and like so many men I’ve met off OUT he’ll just be out to get what he wants. Hell, I’ve been dumped four times since this blog began – I’m allowed to be a bit uncertain.
So this is the experiment: one guy gets chaste, sweet, innocent good Mike. The other gets naughty, horny, better Mike.
The results will be announced in due course, gentle reader. In the meantime, apologies to Family Guy, and watch me weep for my cruel fate!
I started the new job today. I have a sore throat and a bit of a temperature; and I got a bit flustered on the way there as my train was very delayed and they closed the footpath on Westminster Bridge - meaning I had to play a few rounds of “Oh yeah? We’ll see who rusts first” with the traffic to get from A to B. But at B I did arrive, only a meritorious four minutes late.
I have a nice large desk in a nice large office. House of Fraser beneath me, a roof garden to the left of me, views of the most valuable real-estate in Christendom to the front of me. Very nice.
And on top of that four new clients hard on the heels of each other today – very exciting – plus a good (gay) friend of mine is keen to change jobs so I helped him with his CV; and of course my endless pursuit of man-flesh continues unabated.
Yes, a busy day! It means I haven’t really had much of a chance to have any real me time, but I love being busy so that’s just fine. Especially if it helps to pay for trips out to Banbury, and nights out in London.
And as if there wasn’t enough to occupy me, gentle reader, I hit today apon a scheme so cunning my head would explode if I even began to understand what I was thinking about.
I have (let te deums be sung in every church in the land) a second date with the Academic on Wednesday and for various reasons things have been pretty chaste so far. This business with the previous guy has got me feeling somewhat reticent about whether or not I should let things progress to sex when we meet. I’m not staying the night and it would be nice to see how things go with this one… of course, I can get far too excited to care (he is a very passionate kisser which is a double plus turn-on for me) so who knows?
But, I also have a date on Thursday. I have been exchanging texts messages with this guy for a while now and they have taken on a somewhat adult character of late – well, blisteringly pornographic really – with no real end in sight. I think it is fairly clear that we will meet at a ‘scene‘ venue, and pretty quickly heading back to his place for… naughtiness.
That, however, makes me wonder whether this will be a one night stand and like so many men I’ve met off OUT he’ll just be out to get what he wants. Hell, I’ve been dumped four times since this blog began – I’m allowed to be a bit uncertain.
So this is the experiment: one guy gets chaste, sweet, innocent good Mike. The other gets naughty, horny, better Mike.
The results will be announced in due course, gentle reader. In the meantime, apologies to Family Guy, and watch me weep for my cruel fate!
Sunday, 3 August 2008
Datesville
Saturday night was yet another date night – Date 4 to be precise. We met for a drink at the International, then had a bight to eat at Kulu Kulu (introduced to me by a neighbour who coincidentally is the only woman to have seen my gaydar profile) and then went onto the Revolution Bar just of Leicester Square. Last time I went there I was rudely awoken the next day by a rather panic stricken call from my credit card company that somewhat hysterically demanded to know if I really had spent £XXX on libations. As in all honesty I couldn’t recall we could only presume that I had.
Well, what can I say – Date 4 was just double-plus eye candy; as soon as we met at St Martin’s I thought ‘phwooar’. Sadly though my come-hither signals did not get much of a response – but no matter; you win some, you lose some! He is a nice enough chap and as we met through OUT we will no doubt keep in touch in some way. As it was Brighton Pride that day Soho was eerily deserted; and almost everyone there was straight. It was a bit weird. Like a breeder’s Danse Macabre.
Speaking of keeping in touch an old date of mine from what now seems like the dawn of time – ‘M’ – messaged me out of the blue, which was rather a nice surprise. I remember him mainly because he gave me a CD he made of great songs – a nice blend of Kylie, ABBA, Patsy Gallant and others. He was really just saying hello but it was good to hear from him and I replied so who knows? A new old friend? I hope so.
Best of all, though, Sunday was a second date with Date 3 (Gareth to you and me); and he and I went to the Tokyo Diner, just off Charing Cross Road, for lunch. Japanese food two days in a row; a symptom of the great fondness I have developed for Gareth in a short time! Afterward we went for a coffee and held hands (I love the fact he likes to hold my hand everywhere) and talked about what would happen next. We had a very open discussion during which we set out our (broadly similar) sexual, relationship and chemical histories. It seems we really like each other and having failed to put each other off we’ve decided to keep dating for a while to get to know each other better.
But here’s the thing, gentle reader – no sex. Not for a little while yet I’m afraid. Gareth wants to be chaste and proper and essentially avoid sex getting in the way. Does it make sense? Yes. Is yours truly happy with it? No!! But then we’re not saying never; just 'in its own time'. Which we’d be doing anyway I suppose without Thursday’s shenanigans. Plus he’s going to Ireland for a week but has promised to keep in touch while he’s away.
I did toy briefly with the idea of seeing other guys for the purposes of… but, that clearly is outside the spirit of our pact so there you have it. I still have a couple of dates arranged from before I met Mr Propriety that I intend to keep, but for the moment it seems like Gareth is a keeper. Coo!
Memo to self: buy porn
Well, what can I say – Date 4 was just double-plus eye candy; as soon as we met at St Martin’s I thought ‘phwooar’. Sadly though my come-hither signals did not get much of a response – but no matter; you win some, you lose some! He is a nice enough chap and as we met through OUT we will no doubt keep in touch in some way. As it was Brighton Pride that day Soho was eerily deserted; and almost everyone there was straight. It was a bit weird. Like a breeder’s Danse Macabre.
Speaking of keeping in touch an old date of mine from what now seems like the dawn of time – ‘M’ – messaged me out of the blue, which was rather a nice surprise. I remember him mainly because he gave me a CD he made of great songs – a nice blend of Kylie, ABBA, Patsy Gallant and others. He was really just saying hello but it was good to hear from him and I replied so who knows? A new old friend? I hope so.
Best of all, though, Sunday was a second date with Date 3 (Gareth to you and me); and he and I went to the Tokyo Diner, just off Charing Cross Road, for lunch. Japanese food two days in a row; a symptom of the great fondness I have developed for Gareth in a short time! Afterward we went for a coffee and held hands (I love the fact he likes to hold my hand everywhere) and talked about what would happen next. We had a very open discussion during which we set out our (broadly similar) sexual, relationship and chemical histories. It seems we really like each other and having failed to put each other off we’ve decided to keep dating for a while to get to know each other better.
But here’s the thing, gentle reader – no sex. Not for a little while yet I’m afraid. Gareth wants to be chaste and proper and essentially avoid sex getting in the way. Does it make sense? Yes. Is yours truly happy with it? No!! But then we’re not saying never; just 'in its own time'. Which we’d be doing anyway I suppose without Thursday’s shenanigans. Plus he’s going to Ireland for a week but has promised to keep in touch while he’s away.
I did toy briefly with the idea of seeing other guys for the purposes of… but, that clearly is outside the spirit of our pact so there you have it. I still have a couple of dates arranged from before I met Mr Propriety that I intend to keep, but for the moment it seems like Gareth is a keeper. Coo!
Memo to self: buy porn
Saturday, 7 June 2008
Can I keep him?
To help bring the naming thing under control I have decided to tell you that Mr Tuesday’s name is Mark. I’ve revealed it now, thus risking the Curse of the Wereblog upon us both, because I really like him. And the topic of today’s post is how much I hope he likes me.
Mark and I met on Friday for drinks at the Tate Modern (he is a member and they have a members’ room, which was really nice – both the décor and the views) and then we went for dinner around London Bridge where, in what I think is a good sign, they only charged us for two glasses of champagne rather than bottles. And, eventually, as dinner and drinks progressed we reached a tentative understanding that it was time to be a bit more intimate - and so we jumped on a train and headed back to my place.
Though it was not my intention, yes, OK, things ended up getting very intimate indeed… but that’s not the point. The point is Mark seems perfect in every way. His body puts me to shame and he’s a cultured, intelligent, passionate guy. It felt so comfortable lying in his arms in bed last night I wish we were still there right now.
In the cold light of day, of course, I realise the flat’s a total state, I look a shocking mess, and after all that champagne I probably made an idiot of myself. The long-and-short of it is he could do a lot better.
So though we are due to see each other for a third time on Sunday, I’m genuinely worried that it will be a kind of “well, nice knowing you” kind of meeting rather than a ‘third date’ leading to a ‘fourth date’ leading to…
We’ve exchanged some texts to day and I’ve asked him to call me later. Mark wants to go to the cinema, I think, but if I tidied the place up and made a fantastic meal, possibly to be eaten by candle-light, then I can keep things on track. But if he doesn’t want to see me again after tomorrow, then for the first time in a while I’ll be quite put out.
I’m trying to avoid becoming infatuated like I often do; I’m hopeful and a bit anxious. But I don't normally worry (to my own detriment I'm sure) about the effect last night will have on tomorrow. So if he calls me later I think I will try to explain how I feel. Yes/No???
Well, fingers crossed!
Mark and I met on Friday for drinks at the Tate Modern (he is a member and they have a members’ room, which was really nice – both the décor and the views) and then we went for dinner around London Bridge where, in what I think is a good sign, they only charged us for two glasses of champagne rather than bottles. And, eventually, as dinner and drinks progressed we reached a tentative understanding that it was time to be a bit more intimate - and so we jumped on a train and headed back to my place.
Though it was not my intention, yes, OK, things ended up getting very intimate indeed… but that’s not the point. The point is Mark seems perfect in every way. His body puts me to shame and he’s a cultured, intelligent, passionate guy. It felt so comfortable lying in his arms in bed last night I wish we were still there right now.
In the cold light of day, of course, I realise the flat’s a total state, I look a shocking mess, and after all that champagne I probably made an idiot of myself. The long-and-short of it is he could do a lot better.
So though we are due to see each other for a third time on Sunday, I’m genuinely worried that it will be a kind of “well, nice knowing you” kind of meeting rather than a ‘third date’ leading to a ‘fourth date’ leading to…
We’ve exchanged some texts to day and I’ve asked him to call me later. Mark wants to go to the cinema, I think, but if I tidied the place up and made a fantastic meal, possibly to be eaten by candle-light, then I can keep things on track. But if he doesn’t want to see me again after tomorrow, then for the first time in a while I’ll be quite put out.
I’m trying to avoid becoming infatuated like I often do; I’m hopeful and a bit anxious. But I don't normally worry (to my own detriment I'm sure) about the effect last night will have on tomorrow. So if he calls me later I think I will try to explain how I feel. Yes/No???
Well, fingers crossed!
Friday, 6 June 2008
Man Friday
Thursday night was when I met the guy I discussed on 28 May, who’s main interesting feature from the point of view of this blog is that his is in his 50s.
After the great date I had on Tuesday – which was followed up by some lovely emails where he confessed the idea of fuzunjulation had seriously crossed his mind and I replied in the positive in that regard too – I was a bit reticent about meeting Mr Thursday. But, with the help of a friend I picked the absolute perfect venue and he was there when I arrived, sitting at the bar and sipping champagne. Nice. He actually looked good; clearly takes care of himself and is very elegant. If I’m like that in 25 years (count ‘em) I will be very pleased.
Anyway we got talking and a couple of bottles of wine later he took me to a more scene venue he knew, and things began to get a bit more passionate. In fact in the cold light of day I’m a little shocked at my antics (methinks he doth protest too, much gentle reader). Anyway, by the time I’d come up for air I’d long since missed my last train so – what a pity! I’d have to go back to Mr Thursday’s place to spend the night. And so, after giving the taxi driver quite a show we arrived back at Mr Thursday’s flat.
Unfortunately, at that exact same moment so did his son.
The son, only slightly younger than me, was not best pleased to have revealed certain elements of his father’s lifestyle so publicly, and a blazing row ensued where, almost like before, I played the interlocutor and tried to patch things up between them. And that wasn't easy!
To be clear, Mr Thursday is divorced, he has two adult children, and the son is living with him while doing some post-graduate degree. They know he’s gay. But he’d never brought someone back to the flat before, so I think the issue was being confronted by it in the raw, as it were.
Certainly the son’s initial reaction was very rude and aggressive - but he did apologise to me later and I think we got on well enough (eventually) under the circumstances.
Mr Thursday and I did eventually make it to bed, and we had a lot of fun. It was slightly odd to have it interspersed with a father-son heart-to-heart but there we are. Of course, in the morning we could concentrate on each other much more…
We went out for breakfast in the morning, partly I suspect to avoid Thursday Jr., and eventually we parted ways on his commute into work with a promise to see each other again – a sincere one on my part.
His chest hair is white. It’s sooooo cute!
But enough of that for now. Because, tonight, I have a second date with Mr Tuesday, the banker. Oh joy! We’re going to the Tate Modern and later – who knows? He seems really keen; we’ve been emailing and texting several times a day and he’s already proposed a third date on Sunday. Nice, but we’ll see, shall we?
As for Saturday; that’s when I’m having a second date (dinner etc) with the guy I met last Sunday.
Wow! Mr Tuesday's the one I'm most excited about though - just don’t make me choose…!!
After the great date I had on Tuesday – which was followed up by some lovely emails where he confessed the idea of fuzunjulation had seriously crossed his mind and I replied in the positive in that regard too – I was a bit reticent about meeting Mr Thursday. But, with the help of a friend I picked the absolute perfect venue and he was there when I arrived, sitting at the bar and sipping champagne. Nice. He actually looked good; clearly takes care of himself and is very elegant. If I’m like that in 25 years (count ‘em) I will be very pleased.
Anyway we got talking and a couple of bottles of wine later he took me to a more scene venue he knew, and things began to get a bit more passionate. In fact in the cold light of day I’m a little shocked at my antics (methinks he doth protest too, much gentle reader). Anyway, by the time I’d come up for air I’d long since missed my last train so – what a pity! I’d have to go back to Mr Thursday’s place to spend the night. And so, after giving the taxi driver quite a show we arrived back at Mr Thursday’s flat.
Unfortunately, at that exact same moment so did his son.
The son, only slightly younger than me, was not best pleased to have revealed certain elements of his father’s lifestyle so publicly, and a blazing row ensued where, almost like before, I played the interlocutor and tried to patch things up between them. And that wasn't easy!
To be clear, Mr Thursday is divorced, he has two adult children, and the son is living with him while doing some post-graduate degree. They know he’s gay. But he’d never brought someone back to the flat before, so I think the issue was being confronted by it in the raw, as it were.
Certainly the son’s initial reaction was very rude and aggressive - but he did apologise to me later and I think we got on well enough (eventually) under the circumstances.
Mr Thursday and I did eventually make it to bed, and we had a lot of fun. It was slightly odd to have it interspersed with a father-son heart-to-heart but there we are. Of course, in the morning we could concentrate on each other much more…
We went out for breakfast in the morning, partly I suspect to avoid Thursday Jr., and eventually we parted ways on his commute into work with a promise to see each other again – a sincere one on my part.
His chest hair is white. It’s sooooo cute!
But enough of that for now. Because, tonight, I have a second date with Mr Tuesday, the banker. Oh joy! We’re going to the Tate Modern and later – who knows? He seems really keen; we’ve been emailing and texting several times a day and he’s already proposed a third date on Sunday. Nice, but we’ll see, shall we?
As for Saturday; that’s when I’m having a second date (dinner etc) with the guy I met last Sunday.
Wow! Mr Tuesday's the one I'm most excited about though - just don’t make me choose…!!
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