I rushed out of the office last week, making a quick trip to the ladies and spending no more than a second looking at my reflection in the mirror. A trip to a friend's house had been arranged for the evening so I was eager to start my journey home as soon as possible.
As I reached the platform, I jumped onto the train that was being held at the station. It wasn't until the next stop that I realised it wasn't a direct train home, and I would have to make a small change towards the end of my journey.
30 minutes later, I walked over to to the opposite platform and squinted at the digital display. 4 minutes. Once I'd stopped squinting (something my optician friends will probably pick on when reading this), I noticed a guy smile and move towards me. It took me a second or two to realise who he was and when it hit me, I instantly wished I'd spent a bit longer checking my reflection. He was my first crush. He was the guy whose name would appear in the pink hearts on my work books, who made coming into school that little bit more exciting, the guy whose birthday party I somehow managed to forget one year and spent the rest of the day sulking.
My memory can be a bit fish-like at times, but there are somethings that I don't think I'll ever forget. I still remember the day he retrieved my stolen pencil case for me - going against the boy code and snitching on the thief when he saw how upset I was. And the time he asked on my behalf if I could get a glass of water when I had the hiccups in class. It's ironic that a 10 year old is more attentive than the majority of the guys that I've 'dated'.
We've seen each other a few times since our school days - a class reunion, mutual friend's birthday drinks, and a spontaneous group dinner last year - so we're not complete strangers, nor are we the best of friends. I do sometimes wonder if he remembers an online conversation we had a few years ago - a conversation in which we made one of those pacts and agreed to marry if we're still single at 30. He probably doesn't remember, and I doubt I would ever mention it to him. Even if he did, and with less than five years to go, neither of us would actually follow through..I don't think..!
I returned his smile and said hi as he walked towards me. We spent the 4 minutes talking about work, old friends and life in general and as the train approached the platform, I noticed how busy each carriage was. When the doors opened, we joined those struggling to get on and as we were forced to stand close together, I become extremely self concious about my unkempt eyebrows and hoped this morning's perfume was as long lasting as the advert promised. He looked good. Perhaps more so than I remember, and I liked that we could instantly pick up where we left off - there was no need for small talk and definitely no mention of how the weather had been holding up recently. Unfortunately, the journey was quite a short one, but this time when I got off the tube, I took my time and we agreed to organise another group drinks. The brief trip down memory lane was a nice way to end a less than interesting day in the office.
As I walked home from the station, I smiled to myself and thought that the 10 year old me would be quite happy too. I then got my mobile out of my bag and made a phone call to my beautician - next time me and my eyebrows will be prepared!
Thursday 20 August 2009
Monday 10 August 2009
A Date in the City
When my dad started playing match maker, I wasn't sure whether I should be worried or pleased that he was taking an interest in my love life. Either way, perhaps it would've been wise not to agree to meet his colleague's son - for if I was wise, I would've saved myself from an extremely difficult date.
We spoke one Friday night - a conversation which I was purely dominating. Not particularly by choice (though I am known to have more than my fair share of talk time), but to avoid those awkward silences that dared to arise. After he mentioned for the second time that he was quite tired, I cut the conversation short and we ended the call without any mention of speaking again. I was quite surprised when he text a few days later asking about my weekend - I didn't think he would.
A handful of texts and a week later, we decided to meet in his part of the city - an area which I wasn't familiar with and so was happy for him to arrange the venue for our 'date'. We met outside the tube station and I noticed that he was perhaps one of the better looking guys that I had been set up with. I assumed he would take lead and suggest a place, however he asked me where I wanted to go. I told him that I didn't know the area well and was happy to go for a drink or coffee wherever he thought best. Turns out that he didn't even know which direction to walk in - something which surprised me as I thought he would've had some sort of plan or idea where we could go. Definitely a bit of a turn off.
We settled for a small cafe where I ordered a cranberry juice - though much needed, luckily I chose not to ask for the vodka, as it wasn't until half way through our date, that he mentioned he doesn't drink. Not that I'm an alcoholic or big drinker (anymore!), but I'm definitely one who likes to enjoy a social drink or two every now and again. I have to admit, to be with someone who doesn't drink, even a little bit, would be a little weird for me.
He ordered a coke and some fries, which he later doused in tomato ketchup and picked at whilst making his way through seven or eight napkins, making more a mess than my six year old niece.
The conversation between us just didn't flow and I found it extremely tough to make small talk which wasn't weather related. We spoke about mostly work and holidays, however with no intention to be rude, just honest, I would say I found the evening as difficult as having a conversation with a brick. As the waitress asked us if we wanted another round of (soft) drinks, I declined and we settled the bill. Unfortunately the most awkward part of the night was not over - we still had to get through an eight stop tube journey together. For once in my life, I was extremely grateful for the noisiness of the Jubilee line which gave us a reason not to attempt to speak. As we sat there in silence, I felt my foot being (accidentally) kicked by the guy taking his seat opposite me. I didn't feel guilty at all when I returned his dimpled smile and paid more attention to him than my reticent date. When my stop finally arrived, I thanked him for the drink and stepped onto the platform as fast as my heels would allow.
It's been a little over a week since our little meeting and neither of us have made any attempt to make contact - something for which I'm truly grateful for! As much as I may enjoy hearing myself speak, it's not as satisfying when the other person has no interest in reciprocating.
We spoke one Friday night - a conversation which I was purely dominating. Not particularly by choice (though I am known to have more than my fair share of talk time), but to avoid those awkward silences that dared to arise. After he mentioned for the second time that he was quite tired, I cut the conversation short and we ended the call without any mention of speaking again. I was quite surprised when he text a few days later asking about my weekend - I didn't think he would.
A handful of texts and a week later, we decided to meet in his part of the city - an area which I wasn't familiar with and so was happy for him to arrange the venue for our 'date'. We met outside the tube station and I noticed that he was perhaps one of the better looking guys that I had been set up with. I assumed he would take lead and suggest a place, however he asked me where I wanted to go. I told him that I didn't know the area well and was happy to go for a drink or coffee wherever he thought best. Turns out that he didn't even know which direction to walk in - something which surprised me as I thought he would've had some sort of plan or idea where we could go. Definitely a bit of a turn off.
We settled for a small cafe where I ordered a cranberry juice - though much needed, luckily I chose not to ask for the vodka, as it wasn't until half way through our date, that he mentioned he doesn't drink. Not that I'm an alcoholic or big drinker (anymore!), but I'm definitely one who likes to enjoy a social drink or two every now and again. I have to admit, to be with someone who doesn't drink, even a little bit, would be a little weird for me.
He ordered a coke and some fries, which he later doused in tomato ketchup and picked at whilst making his way through seven or eight napkins, making more a mess than my six year old niece.
The conversation between us just didn't flow and I found it extremely tough to make small talk which wasn't weather related. We spoke about mostly work and holidays, however with no intention to be rude, just honest, I would say I found the evening as difficult as having a conversation with a brick. As the waitress asked us if we wanted another round of (soft) drinks, I declined and we settled the bill. Unfortunately the most awkward part of the night was not over - we still had to get through an eight stop tube journey together. For once in my life, I was extremely grateful for the noisiness of the Jubilee line which gave us a reason not to attempt to speak. As we sat there in silence, I felt my foot being (accidentally) kicked by the guy taking his seat opposite me. I didn't feel guilty at all when I returned his dimpled smile and paid more attention to him than my reticent date. When my stop finally arrived, I thanked him for the drink and stepped onto the platform as fast as my heels would allow.
It's been a little over a week since our little meeting and neither of us have made any attempt to make contact - something for which I'm truly grateful for! As much as I may enjoy hearing myself speak, it's not as satisfying when the other person has no interest in reciprocating.
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