The First Date Only Project

My Saturday Juggling Act May 16, 2010

Filed under: First date — Firstdateonly @ 9:23 pm
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I’m still nursing my hangover from last night, but I have to say… it was well worth it. An interesting weekend to say the least. Saturday night was meant to go like this:

Afternoon date (first date only, from the original ad)

Evening date

Engagement party for a friend

I just wanted to see if it could all be done. And possibly like the idea that I’m scheduling my life into a sort of bad sitcom, in which ridiculous and implausible situations take place, with hilarious mishaps resulting.

The afternoon date cancelled on me, which is just as well. He and I have rescheduled for next Wednesday and I’m looking forward to it. He’s French, and (I think) pretty hot. I have a thing for French guys… or maybe it’s just that I haven’t spoken French much since I moved here and I really enjoy the practice.

Anyway, it’s just as well that he cancelled because I ended up spending most of the afternoon talking to another guy who responded to the emo heart ad. And he is so great. He’s incredibly attractive and we get on annoyingly well. After talking online and texting for awhile, he called me and we talked for over an hour. We just really click. He’s funny and, it sounds ridiculously cliché but I feel like he “gets” me and we’ve known each other forever. He’s not really looking for a relationship and to be honest, I’m perfectly happy with the idea of just being friends.

So after my long chat with him, I got ready for my date (which I nearly forgot about and was late for).

The guy: responded to the emo ad, seemed to have a good sense of humour. Half American. Writer. Humorous email exchanges for the last week or so.

We met up in Old Street and went to Electricity Showroom. First impression: I could tell it was him, but for some reason he looked… different than I expected. He was also nervous. Very nervous. I forget that people get nervous on dates, because I usually just don’t at all. Maybe it’s just when I really don’t give a shit. And I definitely did not.

It was terribly, terribly awkward. The conversation did not flow, and I found myself drinking a lot more quickly than I normally would have because raising my glass to my mouth made me feel better than enduring the deafening silences. I thought about sabotaging the date, and realllllly drawing out those awkward moments, but I just couldn’t do it… when I feel uncomfortable I get far more chatty and funny and probably accidentally more flirty (which is possibly why guys don’t realise what a terrible time I’m having). There was a lot of that. He was just, I don’t know, a bit odd, just a very nervous person. He kept playing with the candle on the table, almost compulsively putting his hand over it, moving it away, putting it back… I just wanted to grab it from him. Oh, and he kept staring blatantly at my boobs. There’s really not much to see there. And it’s not like I was wearing anything particularly revealing. I’m not sure what he was looking for.

Again, in an attempt to stop being completely overly critical, he was a perfectly nice guy. And it definitely got less terrible after a pint or so, but I just wasn’t interested in drawing it out. Fourth first date only: FAIL. Luckily, I had the engagement party as an excuse to get out, after only 2 pints and an hour and a half of insufferable conversation. I got out real quick, with just a peck on the cheek.

On the way over to the party, the guy I’d spoken to in the afternoon and I texted back and forth a bit. I was already a bit tipsy (no dinner + 2 pints) and tried to get him to come out. He works excessively, though, and couldn’t. So I went to the party, and in between text flirting with him, I met a friend of my engaged friend, who is quite cute, and we flirted the whole evening. Drunk me spent a good hour or so jokingly trying to convince him that a giant elephant piece of artwork was actually a pinata, and that it was definitely a great idea to go kick it and see if there was candy inside. Thankfully, he did not. Though the bouncer started to get concerned about us lurking near the Art and advised us to move.

Cute friend had to get the last tube back, and I decided it would be sensible to do the same. Okay, so I actually was hoping that maybe we’d make out a little bit. And, yes, we did. Silly drunk boy was so distracted he almost missed his stop, and then had to rush off and said “Oh shit, I forgot to get your number… well, um, I’ll ask (our mutual friend)”. (I spoke to our friend this morning, who said that the guy had told him he was really into me, so he’s going to hook us up, apparently)

So a brief summary of this weekend:

1.One date- bad

2.One date rescheduled for next week

3.One snog- good

4.Many online conversations, texts, phonecalls with a new guy- excellent.

Photo source


The first First Date Only- E* March 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Firstdateonly @ 10:30 pm
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I’m afraid this first gentleman was an unwitting participant in my experiment, as he most definitely expected that there would be a second date after this first. His name was E*, and we met up for drinks at the Foundry in Old Street. Because I had such low expectations of the date, and I was training for a marathon, I didn’t wear heels (as I normally would on a first date), but instead wore a slightly ridiculous outfit of shorts and Doc Martens. Why the fuck not? I honestly didn’t care if he liked me or not.

I arrived slightly early and felt awkward waiting by myself, so I made a phone call outside, which, even more awkwardly, was still going on for a good 5 to 10 minutes after his arrival. He went in and bought us drinks. E was cute enough, in sort of a geeky way that I usually would go for. Tall and blond, with nice blue eyes and a nose slightly too large for his face. Slightly scrawny in that sort of “I’m really cool and I live in East London” sort of way. Clothes from a charity shop… bordering dangerously between “cool” and “maybe that should have been thrown away”. I’ve got low standards, what can I say, so he initially passed my test.

The reason I really went out with him at all was because he’s Irish. I’m a sucker for Irish accents, I’ll admit it. Unfortunately… when he opened his mouth I was immediately confused. I couldn’t understand a word he said, his accent was so thick. After about 20 minutes of asking “what?” every two seconds, I think I finally began to understand about 30% of what came out of his mouth, and was able to smile and laugh my way into pretending I understood the remaining 70%.

And, actually, it was quite fun. We had a few pints there, he made fun of my boots (strangely, a plus on the “make me like you” scale), we joked and I started to like him a bit because he was funny and swore like a sailor. And drank like an Irishman should. Plus, he was a graphic designer (which is the sort of thing I would go for) and into the same music as me. Check.

We ventured to Hoxton Bar and Kitchen for another drink… or 3… I lose count, much beer was drunk. Bit of a closer chat, though I have to say I wasn’t feeling any particular spark. I remember watching him walk away in his 70s yellow shirt and brown corduroys and thinking to myself, “would I want this guy to be my boyfriend?” He was fun, but I couldn’t see it happening. Call me shallow, but I think it might have been the dumpster clothes.

He walked me to get my bus from Old Street station, and on the walk there he stopped, and looked at me, and kissed me suddenly. And, wow, it was intense. And out of nowhere! I didn’t even really fancy him and all of a sudden we snogging each other’s faces off in the middle of the street. For a good five minutes or so. Eliciting comments from passers-by. It was when he asked if I wanted to come home with him that I sobered up a bit and said No thanks, and caught my bus home.

I have to say, though, that he’s lucky he was such a good kisser. I did consider going on a second date with him, for that reason alone. But unfortunately for him, after a couple of days I was able to awake myself from that lip-lock-induced coma of first-date giddiness and remembered my first impression of him… slightly awkward, dirty Irish guy with the weirdest accent in the world.

No second date for Mr E. He did text me a number of times afterwards, and I’ll admit I did lead him into thinking that we’d go out again. But then I cancelled at least 2 or 3 times, and stopped returning his texts (in that really mature way I have of dealing with guys I don’t want to see). Finally I made up some excuse about getting back together with an ex, and he got the hint. It’s a shame, really, cause he is SO good at kissing…