Let's face the music and dance
Apparently, Occidentally wants to know how the date went. It is with great pleasure that I can announce, that I am still single. It is clear that how someone presents on paper, can of course be ideal, but reality fall rather short of a nominal mark. We met, drank and chatted. Then moved on to dinner, and still chatted. But there were no sparks. At least he didn't insult me by saying "I'll call you", when it was clear to all that he wasn't going to.
There was nothing particularly wrong with him either. But one failing of his personality, seems to be the one thing that easily wins me over. Despite my predilection for open and unbridled sexual behaviour, and my quaint habit of over-sharing otherwise personal information, at heart, I am a very old-fashioned girl.
I like a man who, after discussing the menu, will order for me. I expect a man to open doors for me, pay on our first date, ring within the requisite three-day rule period and offer me the most comfortable seat if their is a choice. New millennium be damned, I desire old-fashioned behaviours, within certain contexts anyway. So on my date the other night, when I had to open my own door to leave and enter the restaurant, was not offered a drink, and he dug in to serve himself first from the shared rice (we had Indian), I was taken aback. From that point on, I felt I was just biding time before we both called it a night.
By contrast, I met up with a boy on Friday night, who successfully won me over, by one simple move.
A little while ago, I met, and started seeing (ok, truth be told, sleeping with) a boy I met from an internet site. He was christened a pseudonym by S, but, I never felt the need to actually write about him. So Ted, can now make his first appearance here. I met Ted, there was an immediate sexual attraction, and that was the start of a very short-lived romance. He dumped me not long after. A couple of months later, I caught up with him for a drink, and as they say, one thing led to another, and I found myself driving him to work the next morning. Again, it all turned pear-shaped quite quickly.
But when I met Ted, I also met Ted's flatmate (TFM).
On the occasion of delivering Ted and TFM into work the "morning after", I realised that I enjoyed talking to TFM far more than Ted himself. So when everything went to the inevitable shit, I contemplated the possibility of ever being able to pursue TFM. There is the unspoken rule of a "no go zone" on friends ex's. But Ted and I were never really a couple, a few shags and that was the sum total of our relationship. I began messaging Ted, encouraging him to catch up with me for a drink, oh, and to bring along TFM. Finally, after a few week's of encouraging on and off, Friday night saw Ted, TFM and a couple of their friends meet up with me in my local.
When they arrived, TFM promptly sat beside me, and pleasantries were exchanged. Ted, as a surprise to more than just me, bought us both drinks, and then absented himself. I was then able to present my case to TFM. We chatted, drank and finally had a chance to be alone. It was very pleasant. At some point eventually, Ted and friends returned requesting our presence on the dancefloor. At this point, TFM slid out of the booth we were sitting in, and I began the unlady-like exit from the booth. He then put out his hand to help me out of the booth. And remained holding my hand when I was safely out.
It was then, that I was truly and totally gone on TFM. That was it. One vaguely gentlemanly move, and I was smitten.
Now, I just have to wait on the phone call, if, of course, he can get over the whole "sleeping with his flatmate" thing. Cross all phalange people!