The Beauty of a Coffee

Whilst growing up, I thought it would be quite cool to have a job in the city. Not always, but after my childhood desire to be a teacher ended (homework post-school really didn't appeal to me), I thought it would be quite exciting to work in an office in the heart of London. I would walk around in my suit and high heels, lunch with colleagues, and meet up with friends in the new trendy bars around town. In reality, I wear nothing but my flat shoes, have lunch at my desk and am quick to escape the office to join the thousands of commuters on their journey home. It's an even more exciting life than I could've ever imagined.

It's for this reason that I was actually looking forward to the evening's date. I was determined to start creating the exciting life that I had envisaged and even a busy day at work, with the rain attacking the streets of London, wasn't going to discourage me.

Fortunately, the skies cleared by the time I left the office and as I made my way towards the station, I received a text from him to say he was already there. Now I love living in London, but with my non-existent sense of direction, it's sometimes not the best place for me to be. In my defence, we have almost 300 tube stations and with several exits for each, it isn't always easy to know which one you're supposed to be at. This is why we spent approximately 10 minutes trying to find each other first.

Whilst on the phone to him, walking towards the exit that I hoped he was waiting at, I saw the back of a tall, smartly dressed dress guy on the phone in front of me. Though it's pretty difficult to tell what someone looks like from the back of their head, I caught a glimpse of the side of his face and smiled. I reverted my attention back to the phone, and asked my date if he was standing right outside the station, hoping that he would say yes and the potentially good looking guy in front of me would turn around. Kind of, was his response, before telling me that he was standing at the exit by Starbucks. I looked around me and sadly there was no coffee shop in sight.

I continued to walk further, cursing my heels and longing for my flat shoes, until I spotted the Starbucks. It's at this point that I wondered what it would be like to see your blind date, be disappointed, and then walk away. Personally I don't think I could ever do that to anyone, and I hope that it never happens to me, but there have been times where either one, or perhaps even both, of us probably wished we had. Luckily, this wasn't one of those times. I saw him walk up to me and he looked quite friendly. Though I wasn't attracted to him, he gave me a big smile - one which was difficult not to return.

I tend to prefer going to a bar during these post work dates, but due to the miserable British weather, we both opted for the warmth of a coffee instead. I ordered a skinny latte and said thank you after he'd paid for the drinks. I did spend about a second wondering whether he would think I was one of these weight-obsessed girls just before I ordered my coffee, but I wasn't quite prepared to change a long-term habit for someone I'd just met.

It was actually quite nice to just sit back on the single sofas and talk. My busy day in the office working (contrary to popular belief, I do actually do some work) meant that I didn't have much time to participate in the usual banter amongst my colleagues. For this reason, I found myself with a lot to say, and instead of any awkward silences, there were several occasions where we both started talking at once. Whenever this happened, he instantly stopped and gestured for me to continue with what I was saying. Our conversation varied as the minutes passed and I noticed we were both coming to an end to our coffees. Though I was having a good time, I wasn't particularly keen on continuing our date and wondered whether he felt the same. Before either of us could comment on our empty cups, we were approached by the waiter who told us they were closing. I stood up and picked up my jacket and we both walked towards the door. I asked how he was getting home and although I already knew the answer, I thought this saved us the awkward conversation of trying to decide whether to continue our date or not. As we parted by the station, I told him it was nice to meet him - a line which I usually try to avoid, though this time I genuinely did mean it. It was nice to meet him, just not nice enough to meet him again.

Whilst making the 40 minute journey home, I began to re-think the post work coffee date. Though a drink is much needed at a time like this, the advantage of going for coffee is the 7pm closing time. The dilemma of wondering whether one drink is too short is taken away. Instead, you're given a chance to end the date early after being asked to leave the venue. There's always the possibility of a successful date, in which case it can be continued at bar or even dinner, but having to leave the place you're already at, is the perfect 'get out of jail' (or more accurately, 'get out of bad date') card. I wondered why nobody had told me this before and I feel obliged to share this with all the single ladies out there. The beauty of a coffee is that it generally takes longer to drink than a cold beverage and so doesn't seem as though you're actually rushing the date to its end. From now, I think it's going to be skinny lattes all the way for me. Unless of course, I see those fireworks when our eyes meet for the first time.

When I got home, I relayed the basic details to my parents and told them that unfortunately I had not just met their future son in law. My mother, like all mothers, wants the best for me and believes that whoever I end up with should treat me well and care for me from day one. This is why she always asks whether my dates care enough to know if I got home okay. I believe that asking a girl to text you when she gets home is the perfect, subtle way of showing that you're interested and would like to keep in touch. When I told my mother that he didn't do this and that neither of us seemed particularly interested in the other, she simply shook her head and mumbled, "aaj kal na chokra..." I completely agree.

Where Have All The Boys Gone?

With a recent night out still in my mind, the question most of my single girl-friends have been asking is reinforced. "Where have all the boys gone?" Previously, a night out on the town would consist of a few drinks being consumed, the exchange of smiles between us girls and those around us, and perhaps a little flirtatious chit chat with the guy standing next to us at the bar. He would then of course kindly allow us to be served before him. Nowadays, the smiles become less frequent, the crowd seems predominately female, and I'm still holding a grudge against the rude guy who refused to let me be served first. Knowing that all I wanted were two vodka cranberries, he began to place his order, plus that of all his friends who were standing behind me. With these kind of guys out there, what hope do we have?

It's for this reason that I try not to expect too much in the bachelors that I'm set up with. With low expections, it's harder to be disappointed. Perhaps not the best attitude to have, but it works for me, and it's the attitude I'll take with me on my next date.

I find myself going through a range of feelings before I put myself through one of these 'blind dates'. I get a bit scared because I don't want to make a fool out of myself - something which isn't particularly rare. I get nervous like I would for any date, and then I find myself looking forward to it at times. After all, it's another chance for me to talk about myself - how can that ever be a bad thing? And of course, listen a bit as well. Hopefully more so than last time.

In advance of a date sometime last year, I tried to explain this to a friend - these were the days when I refused to acknowledge my so called outings as dates and was determined they be labelled 'meetings'. I told my friend that I was nervous, yet not at the same time and asked if that made sense. Her response was to explain to me that I was nervous because I was going on a date, and not nervous because it was a meeting. I remember laughing to myself when she emailed me this and her comment still makes me smile.

And so, before I meet the next one later this week, I try not to think about it too much. I ignore the fact that his texts don't always make sense, and instead appreciate the lack of abbreviations used. Some may call me anal (okay, a lot may call me anal), but I'm quite particular with the language used in messages and just don't see why people can't text in proper English. We've decided to meet in town and though I was extremely tempted to ask him whether he drinks, I stopped myself. I don't think my mother would be very pleased with me if that's the reason I gave for not meeting up with him. I guess I'll just have to wait a few days to find out for myself. In the meantime, I've got to try to recall our conversation and remember what he does for a living - perhaps I'll play it by chance and ask him how his job in Accounting or IT is - surely one of those will be close enough...