Tuesday, July 05, 2005

A good / bad date

Last night I went on a date with Paul.

I met Paul very briefly on Friday night while out drinking with Drew. It was a case of eyes meeting across a crowded pavement. At first he seemed to be leaving with some friends, but as he walked away he carried on glancing back at me. I smiled. He dumped his friends. I told him that I wasn't in a position to dump my one friend. He gave me his digits. I texted him. Last night we went on a date.

As I walked down Clapham High Street towards Kazbah (if it ain't broke, etc) I spotted Paul walking towards me. Even though I had only spoken to him briefly I recognised him instantly, but the thing I was most struck by was not his handsome good looks (which he has) but by how he was walking like a slightly deranged, homeless man who has just downed a quart of vodka.

Anyway - he didn't recognise me and as this wasn't where we were supposed to meet - on the street - I decided to play dumb and carry on to Kazbah, order a drink, grab a free gay rag, decide which dance tents at Big Gay Out I would grace with my presence and try to forget that disconcerting walk.

Paul arrived a few minutes later, slightly out of breath, apologising for being late. Knowing very well that I had just walked past him on the street I said, "Did I just walk past you on the street?" on the offchance that he had also seen me and wondered why I hadn't said, "Hello!" He hadn't, but apologised for not having seen me.

The next two hours went without hitch and as time wore on we started to inch closer and closer and we began to do all the little physical things one does when one finds oneself more and more attracted to the person sat opposite - resting your feet on the footsteps of their stool, the occasional brush against a leg, grabbing their shoulder during the middle of a really funny story. "Yes," I'm thinking, "I actually quite like you." Oh, and we agree on stuff, but not in that "Oh, yes, I also like James Blunt and I'm just saying this because I think it's what you want to hear way." More of the excited, "So do I!!!"

Eventually I looked at my watch and saw that it was 11.15pm. I explained that I was up a little bit past my bedtime and while I was having a great time, I really should be going home. It turned out that he lived not too far from me, so I agreed to walk some of the way home with him. We finished off our drinks and left.

And then, suddenly, all of the warm, fuzzy, "I think I quite like this guy" feelings instantly dissipated as he started doing that walk again. What the fuck was that shit? Again, slightly deranged lunatic. Definitely flat footed and upper body leaning forward. All I could think was "patient" and the overall illusion was ruined. As quick as it had arrived, it vanished. No more dates for me and Paul.

Now you might think that after having spent two hours on what was essentially a really good date, I would be really disappointed. But if you did, you'd be wrong.

All I could feel was massive relief that I would not be spending my ever-after with a guy who made me cringe with embarrassment every time he put foot to floor. It is for important reasons like these that I am not willing to compromise. It makes the idea of an eternal singledom entirely bearable.

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