The chocolate cake…

Today I have been on a coffee date with Xavier.

Yes.  I do mean coffee.  I always get a bit nervous before actual dates.  Probably because they don’t happen that often.

People talk a lot about meeting up and having coffee but it rarely actually happens.  Most, don’t want to meet up, they want to exchange pictures and saucy messages from the comfort of their armchair, not physically go on a date.

It is rare for someone to go straight in for coffee.  However, coffee doesn’t always mean coffeeFlash and I meet for coffee, there is absolutely no coffee involved!

So when Xavier messaged and suggested coffee today I said yes.  Coffee, coffee?  Okay, why not?

We were meeting at a well-known coffee-house in the middle of town.  It was busy.  The weather has turned really cold of late but the sun was out and it was a beautiful day for being out and about, it seems everyone had the same idea.

As I walked through the town to the coffee shop I was becoming more anxious.  I was unsure about what Xavier looked like, his profile pictures were a little on the vague side.  His main profile picture was of him skiing, now when you ski you are generally very well wrapped up, so all you can see in that photo is his smile.

He has two others, one is him outside a pub but again it is from a fair distance, so apart from what looks like a full head of grey hair and being fairly tall you can’t see much more.  The other one, well, I’m not sure it is the same person?  The difficulty with this, is that you wonder if you will recognise them at all?

Just then, he messages me:

Xavier:  Which coffee-house?  Grosvenor Road?

Me:   Yes.  That will be fine.

Xavier:  See you there.

Me:   I’m on my way.

Xavier:  You don’t have to be there till 3 pm precisely, there is no rush.

Me:  OK, I will walk a bit slower then!

Xavier:  You are funny.

Me:  Stop texting me, I can’t walk and text.

Xavier:  So stop walking and just text!

Me:  No. I will be late. Inside or outside?

No reply!

Perfect.  I ask a question and it’s then he decides he wont text anymore.  Great.  So, am I going inside or am I waiting outside.  Ohhhh.  I hate all this.

I arrive outside the coffee shop, no idea if he is here or not and wait, loitering nervously, outside in the freezing cold, watching the world and his wife going about their business and wondering if he is here.  I really don’t think I would be able to pick him out?

I message him;

Me:  I’m early!!

Xavier:  I’m impressed.  You said you would be late.

Me:   Well, I made an extra ordinary effort to be on time!

Xavier:  I will be five minutes.

Me:  Well could you hurry it along a bit.  It is freezing!!

After a few minutes..

Xavier:  I’m inside, Table by the window.  I have ordered for you.

Really?  You have got to be joking me. 

I look up and there he is, waving at me from the warm comfort of an armchair, a smug grin on his face!!  I’m not sure why that makes me laugh but it does.  Bloody cheek.

Was he really checking me out while he was texting me to see if I was, what.. like my profile picture, pretty, fat, any of the above?

I walked in, and he met me at the door.  I was not immediately bowled over.  He was very average looking and as his profile picture hadn’t given me much to go on, I couldn’t decide if he was like it, or not.   He manoeuvred me to the table and took my coat.  I can’t remember the last time someone did that?

On the table were two tall frothy coffee thingy’s and a huge slice of chocolate cake that looked like it should be smeared not eaten!

Do I have a one track mind?  I think I probably do!!

Now, at this point I would have been getting a little excited about this date by now.  I liked the texting, the formal feel it had with the underlying thing going on.  I liked the fact that he was waiting inside, all the while pretending he had not yet arrived and I loved the fact that he had ordered and it was a GOOD order.

I liked Xavier.  I didn’t fancy him!

Why is this so hard!!

In an ideal world it seems he wanted the same as me, a casual but fun relationship, with none of the stresses of living together and trying to juggle our mutual children.  On an intellectual level, he was maybe a bit above me but I don’t mind that at all.  Our conversation was good, varied and funny.  He was quite clearly into sex and games and more?? I think.  Which would have been almost too perfect, had I fancied him.

I still enjoyed the date.  I can talk to anyone, I genuinely like people.  I like to find out about people and I’m interested in just having conversations.  I try not to flirt but I am one.  I try not to be when I don’t fancy someone, however, I’m not sure I pull it off very well.

I laugh and I smile a lot but it’s because I am just enjoying the company.  I can enjoy the conversation of someone with out wanting to go to bed with them.  Although I don’t always make that clear-cut.

This becomes even harder when the person you are ‘on a date’ with is, normal, for want of a better word.  It is harder because you don’t dislike them and they seem very nice and the conversation is great and you seem to get along but you know there is no chemistry.  That is the hardest date of all.  You never both feel the same.  Why is that?

You never both say;  Sorry, you are not for me or both say that you are, it is always that one wants to and one doesn’t!

Why didn’t I fancy him?

If I am going to be perfectly honest and probably a little bit shallow it was lots of little things.  His teeth weren’t brilliant (I confess, that is my deal breaker),  He had very small feet and hands, something I didn’t notice straight away but not only did he have small feet he had very odd furry boots on which made his feet look animal like.

His shirt didn’t quite meet in the middle and his coat was far too big and covered in cat hair (this I noticed as we went to leave).   He was also sweating quite a lot and maybe that was nerves but it was not pleasant.

He was obviously not a man who cared much for style and that is fine but I am a someone who cares about style, to a certain extent.  I am not a dedicated follower of fashion but I like to look nice.  I know what I like and I like to look good.  Everyone has their own style I know that, some are snappy some are casual and some can adapt to anything but you must have a certain kind of style, a look that is you.

I suppose overall, he just wasn’t my cup of coffee.

I like my coffee, dark, strong and well dressed, even if it does come with a side order of smooth, rich chocolate cake.

 

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