Going on a date is a bit like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get (Thank you, Mr Gump). Of course, when we want to buy a new box we haven’t tried before, we choose one that really appeals to us and leave the known or boring looking ones on the shelf.
So, when I started chatting to this cute Kiwi guy, he most definitely looked like a very nice box of chocolates. Couple of years older than me, good job, decent sense of humour. We liked the same kind of movies and music and our conversation bounced back and forth quite effortlessly. Oh and did I mention he was really cute?
So we arranged a lunch date for a Sunday and I do admit I was quite excited. It was a bit of a spanner in the works that I finished work really late – or early depending on your perspective – so my morning didn’t start according to plan. Still I manged to be on time more or less. We met at the Flask in Highgate which is a very cute little pub, reportedly haunted by Dick Turpin.
I must have looked a little tired because not only did he get me a coffee, but let me have his as well and made do with some water instead. So sweet. Yay to caffeine too. We had to wait some time for our food, but we had a pretty good convo going so it didn’t matter too much. As I already said, the guy was cute, sweet and really my type, but…. as time went on it was pretty clear there was no spark between us at all. If anything it was a little like catching up with your brother after you haven’t seen him for ages – well I guess at least because as far as I know I have none of those lurking about.
We went for a walk afterwards, having a little stroll around Highgate East (yes, EXACTLY what you are thinking where we went) because nothing can be more inspiring in the romantics department than a little visit to Karl Marx. We were still chatting away like good friends, but just that – friends. Admittedly, it’s a little frustrating when you finally get to meet a really nice guy and you’re just not into him and vice versa. This whole chemistry thing between boys and girls really is a goddamn mystery. I would bet the next bad boy that crosses my path gives me all butterflies and weak knees again.
We parted ways after a while, I had to pick my son up from his dad and he had to get some shopping done. We texted a bit in the evening and the few days that followed but eventually it dried up from both sides. Still, I hold the Kiwi in quite fond memory. I had a really nice afternoon in good company and whichever girl eventually ends up with this guy is very lucky indeed.