It was pouring rain all day, except I had been meaning to go to Primark for ages, so I decided to escape in the middle of the work day and take a walk in the rain. I was surprised upon arriving at Primark to realise that the kind of stockings I like (40's-style with a seam up the back) weren't in stock, where I realised that Primark just doesn't carry the same stuff all the time, that they can carry anything at any time. Must remember that.
In the evening, the silly boy had set our meeting time as 8 PM, but I got a text from him at around 6:30, saying he would have to push it back until 8:30, due to delays getting home from work. Given that I had been supposed to originally meet friends at the Lansdowne from drinks, which I had cancelled to go out with the silly boy, I texted that it was fine, and that I would simply stop by the Lansdowne anyway now. Let him know that I've got other things to do, that I'm a popular girl who doesn't just sit around waiting for his call, right?
I managed to get out of the house at 6:45, and I really did have every intention of going to the Lansdowne on my way out to Shoreditch (where we were meeting for drinks). Yet a very upset man somewhere far down the line on the Central Line had other plans. Hence, I spent 20 minutes listening to the ghoulish announcement that there were severe delays "due to a passenger under train", but amazingly they still had some trains running towards Liverpool Street, so eventually I was able to get onboard one of them. And, it was so late at that point, I realised that there was no hope of getting to the Lansdowne, I just needed to go directly to the club.
He'd told me to meet him at a club called "Callooh Callay", which I looked up online, and it was apparently an "Alice in Wonderland"-themed bar. Didn't sound like my usual scene, more of a crowded Shoreditch chic-bar, probably with too loud music and too many people. Still, despite my reservations, I had to give him credit for planning something, so therefore I had to go along with his plans.
In the end, the train only made it to Bank before getting held up, so at that point I decided to just dash and take a bus the rest of the way to Liverpool Street. As I was walking towards the club, I actually got a text from him that he was already there, 15 minutes early. Why does this boy ALWAYS arrive early to places, totally unnerving me when I therefore arrive late?
As I then hurried up to try and make it to where we were going, I actually had some guy try to stop me on the street. "Excuse me Miss!" I had no idea who on earth he was or what he was selling, but I was already late, so I just kept on hurrying by, at which the guy shouted out, "I just have to tell you that you are the most gorgeous woman I've seen all evening!" Seriously, I do not know what on earth makes men do this. May I point out that I was wearing the same outfit I was last Friday when I got commented on like that? Maybe it's something about this outfit.
(I told the silly boy about that later after we were exiting the club, and pointed out that while it might be mildly flattering, it always did make me slightly wonder if I looked like a prostitute. To which he laughed and exclaimed, "So that's why I always get shot down when I try to compliment girls on the street!")
But finally, I did make it to the club, and thankfully recognized the silly boy from behind, as he was standing at the bar right when I walked into the club. Greeted him, and I can only hope that he was as impressed by how I looked as the random guy on the street.
We ended up just standing and chatting for two cocktails (this place was definitely one of those chic places that had an entire menu of cocktails, all with an excessive number of ingredients and made-up names. I just went for a gin cocktail each time, which seemed to amuse him, that I was a girl who liked gin.
He told me he'd had the foresight to reserve a table for us at 9:30, so at that time we got to escape just standing at the bar and being jostled to go sit on a lovely soft bench in a "secret bar" and continue to have nice drinks. (We even had to be shown to our table by a guy in a top hat like the Mad Hatter). Okay, still not my usual scene, but I had to admit that the soft bench and dark bar was kind of lovely and seductive.
Mostly though, we just had a really lovely time. He'd been on a family holiday in Italy, with about 20 family members all at a villa, and so we had fun sharing stories about our respective family members. (And I had to admit, that if I were at one of my own family gatherings, the last thing I would have been doing would be checking e-mail or calling people. When I'm at an event like that, I just tune out. So perhaps, could I have been wrong to be mad at him all this time?) On the whole, it all was just really messing with my head, for there in person, he was so nice and charming and easy to talk to. All of a sudden I was remembering why I liked him so much, and why we clicked so easily. Yet, it's kind of hard to instantly flip a switch and undo five weeks of being mad, you know? At least I'd made a conscious decision that tonight was just going to be all laughter and charm, that we'd save any "discussions" for another time. At this point, I'm still trying to convince this guy that he likes me. Which, although there was lots of casual contact as we were seated side-by-side in this bar, he didn't try any moves. Hmmm...
Finally, as he had his football match in the morning, we left at around 11 PM. They messed up our bill and only charged us for two drinks, and after we tried to fix it twice (yet the waitress didn't seem to understand us), we finally just gave up. Needless to say, I didn't even fake offer to split the bill, since he'd invited me out, I figured he could cover the £20.
And I thought it was a sweet gesture when as we exited the bar, he asked, "Where can I walk you to?" Ah yes, this was his neighbourhood, he didn't need to be taking the Tube home, but he was going to be a gentleman and see me safely to my train. And so as we walked, I suggested that now that we'd seen his scene, we should see my usual scene, in the form of drinks at my club next Wednesday. Which he instantly agreed to, saying that sounded like a great idea.
So we finally parted right in front of the Tube barriers (yes, he walked me as far as he possibly could), and there we said good-bye, with a simple, sweet kiss right on the lips. Nothing particularly passionate, but a nice reminder that we're interested in each other as more than just friends. And I wished him good-luck in his game in the morning, which almost seemed to surprise him, as he so enthusiastically said, "Thanks!"
It was just a really, really, really lovely date. Okay, so perhaps I would have wished for a bit more overt indications of his attraction, but I wonder almost at times if he's thinking the same thing I am: That we got physical too quickly when we first met, and now is the time to slow down and actually get to know each other.
I realise this wisdom of this, even as it goes against my natural impatience to want everything now. I just have to hope I can learn to simply wait and see what happens, to let events just unfold. Yet, I definitely think it has to be a good sign that Wednesday can't seem to come soon enough...
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