definitely there though, however much she thought she fought it, it was there and that was good enough for me.
Yet this proved a small victory in a battle I had long since conceded.
It was as if I was trying to subconsciously sabotage the date and I had no idea why. Here was a perfectly nice girl, who I now knew not to be a hooker, simply looking for some decent company and I cannot control myself. I spoke about Gemma and I even told her the full and intimate details of the email. Sian sat and politely laughed where needed but contributed very little of anything else to the conversation. Not that she had much of an opportunity.
If it were possible, her silence in my rare lulls seemed to spur me on even more. She never took the initiative to take the conversation forward, or in any direction for that matter. Fuelled by even more alcohol, I was still desperately begging myself to shut up. I was now discussing how many children I would like. What the a ctual fuck was I talking about?
Just shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!
I had no idea who or what had taken over me but I just could not make it stop. This poor girl. This was obviously a nightmare date for her and it was all my fault. Then, miraculously, I managed to regain some semblance of control.
“Look, I am really sorry. I have absolutely no idea what I am going on about. Even worse, I have no idea why I am going on. This was supposed to be just a few drinks but obviously it has turned into the worst date ever for you. Please believe me, I am truly embarrassed. I tend to ramble when I’m nervous and this is my first date in years. You would think I haven’t ever spoken to a woman before the way I am going on here.”
A vain attempt at humour.
Her response shocked me. “I’ve had worse.” She said, stated as a matter of fact. “Do you want to go home?” Her question sent relief to every fibre of my being.
“I really do think that might be for the best, if you don’t mind?” In my intoxicated state I had been all too presumptuous that there was still the offer to drive me home. “Although I would fully understand if you would rather I take a taxi?”
“Not at all, let’s go.” She grabbed her purse and stood with a speed and agility that surprised me. I clumsily slid along the bench seat and extracted myself from under the table. Upon reaching my full height I looked to see the back of her head weave through the recently assembled crowd of new patrons, she was almost at the door. Her deft manoeuvres were impressive although it suddenly hit me that she might have thought better of her offer and she would be gone by the time I made it to the parking spot. It would be completely understandable given my nights performance. Still, I made my way to her car anyway, I owed her that much.
For the second time this evening, she was sat alone in the darkness with the engine running.
The journey back to mine was short but seemed to take forever. It wasn’t even yet 10pm but the night was ruined, a new record for me. I just wanted out from the confines of her car with its deafening silence and into the relative safety and comfort of my own home. She pulled up into the same spot where I had entered this farce less than three hours ago.
There is scant consolation in the knowledge that my disastrous prediction was accurate.
I squirmed in my seat as I replayed in my head all that had transpired this evening, although here I was still living it. Hopefully she will want to forget this “date” as much as I do but there is no doubt that this will haunt me forever. I mumbled “thanks” and “goodnight” and got out the car, seeing my home and wishing I had never left it.
Then it happened.
The engine died, then the unmistakable tinny sound of a car door closing, followed by the all too familiar noise of a central locking system engaging. Confused, I turned around to see her walking towards me. Now I am completely baffled. What is she doing? Where is
Yet this proved a small victory in a battle I had long since conceded.
It was as if I was trying to subconsciously sabotage the date and I had no idea why. Here was a perfectly nice girl, who I now knew not to be a hooker, simply looking for some decent company and I cannot control myself. I spoke about Gemma and I even told her the full and intimate details of the email. Sian sat and politely laughed where needed but contributed very little of anything else to the conversation. Not that she had much of an opportunity.
If it were possible, her silence in my rare lulls seemed to spur me on even more. She never took the initiative to take the conversation forward, or in any direction for that matter. Fuelled by even more alcohol, I was still desperately begging myself to shut up. I was now discussing how many children I would like. What the a ctual fuck was I talking about?
Just shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!
I had no idea who or what had taken over me but I just could not make it stop. This poor girl. This was obviously a nightmare date for her and it was all my fault. Then, miraculously, I managed to regain some semblance of control.
“Look, I am really sorry. I have absolutely no idea what I am going on about. Even worse, I have no idea why I am going on. This was supposed to be just a few drinks but obviously it has turned into the worst date ever for you. Please believe me, I am truly embarrassed. I tend to ramble when I’m nervous and this is my first date in years. You would think I haven’t ever spoken to a woman before the way I am going on here.”
A vain attempt at humour.
Her response shocked me. “I’ve had worse.” She said, stated as a matter of fact. “Do you want to go home?” Her question sent relief to every fibre of my being.
“I really do think that might be for the best, if you don’t mind?” In my intoxicated state I had been all too presumptuous that there was still the offer to drive me home. “Although I would fully understand if you would rather I take a taxi?”
“Not at all, let’s go.” She grabbed her purse and stood with a speed and agility that surprised me. I clumsily slid along the bench seat and extracted myself from under the table. Upon reaching my full height I looked to see the back of her head weave through the recently assembled crowd of new patrons, she was almost at the door. Her deft manoeuvres were impressive although it suddenly hit me that she might have thought better of her offer and she would be gone by the time I made it to the parking spot. It would be completely understandable given my nights performance. Still, I made my way to her car anyway, I owed her that much.
For the second time this evening, she was sat alone in the darkness with the engine running.
The journey back to mine was short but seemed to take forever. It wasn’t even yet 10pm but the night was ruined, a new record for me. I just wanted out from the confines of her car with its deafening silence and into the relative safety and comfort of my own home. She pulled up into the same spot where I had entered this farce less than three hours ago.
There is scant consolation in the knowledge that my disastrous prediction was accurate.
I squirmed in my seat as I replayed in my head all that had transpired this evening, although here I was still living it. Hopefully she will want to forget this “date” as much as I do but there is no doubt that this will haunt me forever. I mumbled “thanks” and “goodnight” and got out the car, seeing my home and wishing I had never left it.
Then it happened.
The engine died, then the unmistakable tinny sound of a car door closing, followed by the all too familiar noise of a central locking system engaging. Confused, I turned around to see her walking towards me. Now I am completely baffled. What is she doing? Where is
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