Date 14: The
man in the mirror,
They say we are attracted to people who
look like ourselves and that the familiarity or is it egocentricity draws us
in. When Date 14 popped up on bumble his face was eerily comforting. It wasn't
a perfect face or even a face that everyone would find noticeably attractive.
It was just a face I knew, with all the relief synonymous with arriving home
after a trip to Benidorm. Gazing into the modern looking glass or the IPhone,
I'm looking at the man in the mirror but he’s actually on Bumble. Owww. Here's
hoping love is black and white.
On closer inspection Man in the Mirror
(M&M) even works in the same company, we'd surely get on and this might be
the start of a beautiful thing. I was based at an unusual office for the week,
and GPS enabled app stalking meant I could deduce he was nearby. Was he part of
the establishment or not? I swiftly gathered he was visiting his parents, and
indeed not only did we work in the same company, but normally in exactly the
same buildings, even the weird ones populated by social misfits and gentle
geeks, and therefore with many of the same people. I could even get a review
before a rendezvous. He recently became a British Airways Silver member so is
also no stranger to the delights of the unmistakable flavour of tea made with
the finest UHT milk and a free biscuit. I tell him about my enormous room in
the Crowne Plaza and the two twin beds. We fantasize about how he could have
one, and I could throw mini bar peanuts at him from the other. Then I tantalize
him with promises of photos of my hole, my plughole that had failed to be
unblocked two days running, and had been the cause of much paddling. Our
messages continue for a few days. Personal highlights include competitive
suggestive Selfies with various food produce in the supermarkets Waitrose and
Tescos express. Rules of engagement define the winner as the one who gets the
best innuendo selfies before the inevitable conclusion, whereby you are removed
by security. It's a devilishly high-risk activity in your local store,
particularly in the event of a permanent ban. But, you're much more likely to
be spotted in a smaller Express with less places to hide. Each gauntlet has
it's own challenges. Top selfies include anything from the meat counter,
vegetables at suggestive angles, fondling nuts, and burying ones face in any
nice looking buns; especially where labeling clarifies them as a bun, rather
than any other small round baked good.
The relationship is moving smoothly. Before
the first meet, we've already shared images of our most prized underwear, the
thermal long John, and expressed a love of the wet weather trouser. Finally, a
man who I can be my self around! As we collect our pints of ale, sit at the
table of the pub and remove our bags and coats, the similarities don't stop.
Not only are we the same height, we have exactly the same bag, and exactly the
same branded jacket. Stripping down to our unflattering jeans and unrefined yet
practical walking trainers, he really is the man in the mirror! We are peas in
a pod. His conversation makes me laugh yet is so brutally honest. My internal
monologue keeps repeating, "OMG, this it's what it's like being on a date
with me!" It's a bit freaky, shocking but also incredibly easy. This could
be the "just clicked" moment.
With the instant rapport, the kiss is
going to be the make or break this romance. The moment comes, on the tube
platform, and it commences well. He has a secure grip and is very gentle. Ten
seconds later, I'm ok with this kiss. Fifteen seconds later I'm not melting,
the world isn't disappearing around us, and I'm now analyzing this kiss,
"Why is the disappearing platform thing not happening?" I'm not
always great at clearing my mind in the 'clear your mind' section of the yoga
class, but if there is a time to 'be in the present', I'd say the first kiss is
it. This night the magic was only happening at London’s King’s Cross Station,
on Platform 9 ¾.
We have a couple more dates and I'm
hopeful that this is the slow burner. The M&M needs to be on my side of
town the morning after one of the very enjoyable dates, so stays over. As we
watch Alan Partridge under the duvet, there's not a fleeting moment where my
normal curious desire turns focus to explore his body as well as his mind. On a
scale of zero to ten, where ten is "what's sleep?", and zero is
waking up fully refreshed with a compelling urge to complete your things to do
list, I woke up and logged straight on to the Argos website. If future events
do head in an unexpected direction, and it turns out my doppelgänger is 'The
One', the morning I spent raving about the range of wide fit shoes Clarks has
on offer, may well make it into the speeches. For now though, I have a new
awesome friend.
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