Date 15: The Mini Date

If I'm going to get through 99 dates before my ovaries become weary, time is of the essence. This means taking every opportunity to meet prospective hotties and check out the chemistry. I'd been chatting to an IT architect, who seemed to have a dry sense of humour and a romantic streak. What an oxymoron? It so happened that he lived in the legendary suburbia of Croydon, known for the riots and as the home of Stuart 'the one with the tag' when I worked packing cosmetics one spring. The glowing chimneys of Ikea were beacons of love. I was going to be working very close to my Mini the next day. An opportunity for a quick tea? 

With fifteen minutes warning, and in my work clothes that would also be suitable for hosting a night in the soup kitchen, I am ringing the doorbell of his flat. It's a whistle stop visit. He is of Pakistani decent, and his eyes are big brown and very lovely much like in his online profile; and he is quite shy which is very endearing.  I have most definitely walked into the space of a home maker, the nesting gene which appears to be the sole most important factor for partners matched on, Channel 4’s, ‘Married at First Sight’, has been fully activated. He has even named the fox emblazoned on his sofa cushion, Martha; and is very concerned that Snow White might not be the right shade of white for his bedside tables. The only mild point for concern was the slogan displayed in large letters on the TV, 'YOU ARE DEAD'.  Not the most reassuring of messages to have displayed for lonesome female visitor. Though, unless my instincts had gone on vacation, I had merely interrupted some quality man time, rather than the words being a hint of my immediate future.

Since the fastest tea in the South, the Mini date has lured me with cheesecake, the scientifically proven ultimate super food for getting a bit chunky due to being irresistable. It’s the perfect ratio of fatty and sweet to trick your body into never wanting to stop stuffing large amounts of lovely creamy biscuity based yummy cake in your mouth. There’s even a Horizon (BBC 2) about it. He also says I can pop round anytime to keep some stuff in his fridge. After living in shared accommodation for sometime now, the simple pleasures like having more than a shelf in the fridge seem a wild dream. This guy knows how to tap into my deepest consciousness. In summary he’s very witty with a coy smile and a lot of space in his fridge, so I’ll definitely consider dropping in with a sprig of broccoli and chipolatas.