17 Dec 2016

Date 2: The New Yorker

Was tonight’s experience going to be closer to the satirical, cultural commentary magazine or a cold meat and coleslaw rye bread sandwich?

My first foray back into App dating has begun. My experience of Tinder a couple years ago had been nothing short of traumatic, but I’d heard the behavioural expectations on Bumble were slightly higher.

He is a Lawyer with three degrees, because school was easier than adulthood. We spent a while on Whatsapp playing a game where you have to guess the film from the emoji sequences; Psycho, Snakes on a Plane, and any Keanu movies prove to be a good start. His film references are much more classic and nerdy than mine, and eventually we seem to settle on a good middle ground which is working out Riddler (from Batman) riddles. No cheating on Google. I’m really looking forward to meeting him.

The location is set. It’s a pub near where he lives but not too far from me. In west London even the traditional pubs have normally been decorated in the style of a rustic French Chateau; Nouveau antique. A dress might be appropriate and worth the effort. As I walk, in I discover a dress is definitely not appropriate. This is a traditional pub with a real ale meets students union feel, where T-shirts outnumber shirts, and the lights are on in the ‘lounge’. I’m used to being under dressed but over?

I can’t spy the mystery man, so I retreat to find him at the doorway. It’s awkward. He’s awkward.  He looks like his picture, but his posture is not as tall, like Uncle Fester on the ‘5:2 Diet’. We queue for the bar discussing his Spanish heritage, yet terrible grasp of actually speaking Spanish. He’s kind of witty and smart with his nerdy American accent. I’m in heels so feeling weirdly towering, as I get the first round in.

The evening passes very quickly. He works on behalf of lots of celebrities (no names mentioned) and has interesting tales of running the University radio station. He uses fabulous language, is funny and has a nice face. He is way geekier that I am. We would spend our courtship in the Electric cinema and at niche cultural events being kooky. Our album of memories would be polaroid and Instagram filtered. Our love children would read 14th century literature, and would also be able to spell ‘century’. Thanks spell checker. In fact, they might even win a Spell Bee. But despite my romantic and very practical imaginings, there’s not quite enough eye contact, and I’m not get the feeling I want to lean in and kiss those very pink lips of his.


We depart with promises of meeting up and doing something else together, but we both know it's just platitudes.  

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