Arrange date meeting dating
I sat down opposite Tom, paralysed by first-date nerves.
He’s a handsome, sexy writer who I’d harboured a secret crush on for years, but we’d never been single at the same time.
You want to go – your husband could never bear that sort of place – but is it appropriate?
he wastes no time in telling you his wife doesn’t understand him and that he has lied to her about where he’s spending the afternoon; he’s speed-read the novel you mentioned was your favourite just a few days previously.
You mention this to your inner circle during your weekly powwow over coffee.
Days later your best male friend (part of said circle) invites you out to a hip indie cinema.
he asks you what hairdresser you’d recommend as his has left town; he gives you a blow-by-blow account of the last season of The Hills, then tries to draw you into a debate over who is hotter – blonde Barbie girl Heidi, or brunette Barbie girl Audrina; he kisses you lightly but loudly on both cheeks, and runs for the last bus.
You spend the night before in a frenzy: setting out matching underwear; opening the new perfume you’d saved from Christmas, and over-plucking your eyebrows.
Then he announces he’s taking you to his local where you can ‘grab a quick bite’. he’s made the effort to reserve the best table at what turns out to be the gastro-pub of the moment, with tables so hot that Kate Moss is sitting at one; he chooses to squeeze next to you on the bench seat rather than opposite where his place setting is.
But is he really after insider tips only, or does he think that they’ll be served with a little bit of loving on the side?
he spends the entire hour asking Paxman-style questions about your private life; he tells you you’re even better looking than he remembered; he has done next to no research on your employer, who he was supposedly so interested in hearing all about.