Getting to know each other

Chapter one

Two gins followed by two bloody marys (in case you were wondering).
All drinks were doubles, so that’s six in total. And after feeling like the tube station was melting beneath me, I have quickly come to realise just how many drinks it’ll take before that nice feeling is transformed into something beastly.

I’ve never been drunk and the near-drunkeness of last night has clarified exactly why this has been the case. That anybody could enjoy walking on a concrete ocean and feel like their person was a few centimetres out of their reach is beyond me. Dreadful.

Having said that, a full stomach might have helped. And the night went well. Though, not quite as I’d expected.

We met in a gay bar. The difference between us was of 16 years. It showed. And, I felt like it was perhaps something, in that relationship, that I would never quite forget.
How mature can a 22 year old really be after all?

I walked in, beneath dim lights, the atmosphere smoky, the haze of sexuality gently falling over my head as I sat at the bar, before I spotted him.

‘Ah there he is’ he said, once he’s caught sight of me
‘Hi’

And then he kissed me on each cheek (totally unexpected. Probably should have known better).

‘Oh, a fashion kiss..!’ (worst mistake ever)

‘OH Sorry’ (now imagine Cruella De Vil Saying it)

‘no no no no no no, it’s fine, I wasn’t…’

Chapter two

As the night progressed in came to realise the following facts:

1. That I had been whittled down to 4 of a potential 60 replies this person had received upon placing the advert on gumtree (shocked! Not because I was part of an official recruitment exercise, but that a gumtree advert could generate such vast interest). I think later tonight, I shall form my very own.

2. That the selection process consisted of his friends analysing each of the photos/applications turn by turn. Apparently my photo met with a mixed reaction. An ‘ahh’ with a crumpled face (ish) (Charming)

3. That he really was every bit the Oxford University Professor I had imagined all along. With a sharp, dry sense of humour to match. He was the sort of man you might need to take a course on (a supplementing evening class). So that you weren’t offended by the humour/insult. I felt like I needed to think carefully about everything I said. Three times, the same thing, over and over. But this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I think I expected something a bit more…’natural’. But then, what I was doing wasn’t exactly ‘natural’. My journey itself isn’t exactly natural either. It’s an enforced opening of the soul, and that’s the wonderful thing about it.

Now, we all now he’s a TV Exec, so I asked him ‘Have you always been media savvy’?

‘How do you mean? Do you mean media savvy in terms of my profession or do you mean media savvy about the performance aspect of what I do?’ (He’s a TV presenter too, don’t you know)

I was referring to the latter to which he replied yes. Thinking back, I suppose every presenter is media savvy in that sense. Perhaps it was a pointless question.

That said and done, as the evening progressed I really settled into the conversation. What we have here is a man who doesn’t really let much on. And this is probably a detrimental thing as neither do I. I never quite understood what he wanted apart from somebody to share things with (though, for somebody who struck me as rather a socialite, his friends should more than make up for this lack, shouldn’t they?). So, I’m guessing sex is probably on the agenda somewhere, though he struck me as the kind of man who wouldn’t suffer if he spent the rest of his days without it.

And we talked about the blog. He more or less hates it.
‘Half way through, I just thought ‘get on with it! Pull yourself together’. It’s so difficult.’

He didn’t quite understand that this was exactly what I was trying to do. I think I’m too…what’s the word…airy fairy (pun most certainly not intended) for him. Though, I wouldn’t mind meeting him again. The next time I see him I’m determined to find out what frightens the man.

The bar we attended apparently has an infamous reputation for its ability to put people together. A pulling machine is just what I could do with. And the people weren’t bad looking at all. (tick tock tick tock)

I feel like I’ve slagged him off, which really isn’t what I wanted to do at all. He wasn’t masterful enough. Or perhaps too too masterful for me. Either way, the balance wasn’t there last night. And another date should help matters. He’s the kind of guy who I’d need to chip into with a hammer and chisel.