In the morning, I suddenly worried whether the shy computer programmer I'd met last night would have the courage to get in touch. After all, he just struck me as the classic guy who will get a girl's number, and then say, "She'd never be interested in ME!" and then fails to call. And so at around noon, with still no word from him, I e-mailed him first. I just told him about the hash website, which I'd promised to do, and also included the line, "or you can always show me where the great pizza in Putney is sometime" (referencing a conversation we'd had the night before). Talk about a BIG hint that, "If you ask me out, I will say yes."
Let's face it, boys are all big chickens who never seem to be able to figure out if a girl likes them. So I think it's sometimes acceptable to give them a little helpful push.
Obviously the right move, because he e-mailed me back within five minutes, asking me if I were free next Thursday. So within a few minutes we had a time and date sorted, and he even texted me as well as e-mailed me to confirm. So sweet!! (Okay, can you tell I'm liking these boys who perhaps contact you a bit too much more than the ones who don't contact you nearly enough?)
In the evening, I was due to go out for dinner with my gay friend from high school, Rob, and his new boyfriend. (Although "new" might be putting it strongly, given that they've been dating since last March, it was just that I was FINALLY getting the chance to meet the guy!)
As I left the house, in response to hearing about my planned date with the shy computer programmer, my flatmate asked, "So have you heard anything from the silly boy?" I shrugged my shoulders and sighed, which is why it was funny that I wasn't even fully out of the house when there was a text from the silly boy! "Cocktail my side of town tomorrow night?"
Okay, so it violates just about every rule from "The Rules" (including don't accept weekend date plans made after Wednesday), but thinking on my schedule, I realised I didn't have any more free time for a week anyway, so I might as well accept. I'd been planning to join friends for drinks at the Lansdowne, but I'm sure they would understand me skipping out on them. Hence, I texted back my agreement, and was slightly miffed even as he told me the time and place, he said, "Fair warning, will not be a super later night for me…have an early soccer game south of the damn river next day…" Okay, so before we even get together, you're telling me you don't want to spend that much time with me?
Anyway, when I got to the restaurant, I had fun regaling Rob and his boyfriend with the stories of my ridiculous dating life. The boyfriend was interesting, in that he was VERY good-looking (it's true what they say about all of the good ones being gay, isn't it?) and also VERY British. Just in that classic, slightly reserved-yet-charming way that the Brits are. Interestingly, the boyfriend actually works for my company, so we had some fun bonding over our shared experiences at the firm.
Also, as I talked about how I waited endlessly for this guy to call and set up dates, Rob and his boyfriend just chuckled about the stupid rules that seem to govern "straight" dating, how you always know it's the guy who has to call first, who is supposed to pay, and so forth. I will admit, when it comes to two gay guys first meeting, it must just be a free-for-all with who calls first. Seems like it would be kind of refreshing, even though at some point I like the rules that we have, as it at least gives you a framework to operate in.
I also talked to Rob about moving, as he'd moved recently, and had been a bit frustrated with his flatmate who hadn't planned his half of the move very well. And he asked me about how I felt about my flatmate basically kicking me out of my home. And truthfully yes, I am sort of angry and annoyed, but what can I do? It is what it is. (Although to that end, I HAVE stopped buying toilet paper. With no longer any motivation to do so, I've stopped putting a lot of effort into being a good flatmate).
In the end, we didn't stay out that late, and also because we were at this Lebanese restaurant that for some reason felt the need to employ a belly dancer. (The boyfriend laughed at one point that it was totally wasted on us, as we were the worst audience for it. Two gay guys and a straight girl!) Headed home after a great meal and a night out, and encouraged by such a great time with such a lovely couple...
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