Cup Day- instead of doing the traditional thing and going to the Cup or attending a BBQ with friends I had a date. I was quite excited about this date as he sounded quite nice. And normal. (Plus he wasn’t the MOS, it looked like I was moving on.)
We’d exchanged a couple of long, detailed and amusing emails; and we’d chatted on the phone for an hour or so. He’s a paramedic in a country town north of Melbourne, but not too far away. (And at least it was in the country rather than out of the country.)
He was open and honest and easy to talk too; I’d seen photos and wasn’t repelled, on the other hand he wasn’t a Greek god either, just a normal bloke.
Perhaps a normal bloke with the patience of a Greek god as I had one of my “late arrivals” shall we say. Most of the time I display good punctuality arriving on time or a few minutes early; it annoys me when people are consistently late. Someone I dated for a few months last year would always arrive 30 minutes to an hour late - then blame the traffic. Very occasionally I fail spectacularly, sometimes because I have underestimated how long the journey will take but more often because I get lost.
Getting lost is one of my failings. Last time I saw the MOS we were going to have a drink at a bar, leaving from his place, being as he lives in that cool inner city suburb. So I launched myself off over there, got very close and then couldn’t quite remember which street he lived in - being that we’d had so many dates by then, this was number four. So I rang him and confessed my failings; he gave me his address, I was very close by. “I’ll be there in 2 minutes,” I said, optimistically. However, I got myself turned around after heading down one street and realizing I was going in the wrong direction, I turned then thought I was on a different street. It’s hard to fully explain so that I don’t sound like a complete idiot. Nevertheless, I ended up adding another 10 minutes to my trip. The MOS had come outside to wait for me and didn’t look impressed, “What happened?” he said. There really is no way to explain.
So on my date yesterday I underestimated how long it would take me thus delaying my arrival. I rang him and apologized and he was very understanding. It got worse as I got near our destination point and I couldn’t find it. I had to pull over, consult the map and chuck a few u-turns before I finally sorted myself out. I met the bloke- let’s call him Max- he was very gracious in the face of my tardiness.
We had a couple of drinks and chatted. He was easy to talk too, a nice guy, very pleasant in fact. But there was no visceral reaction from me, you know, when your stomach gets a few butterflies and you feel slightly nervous? Maybe I shouldn’t be looking for that but there was no attraction. Not that he was unattractive, he even smelt nice - I do like men who wear cologne - but I had no desire to prolong the date or see him again.
I am quite disappointed. Why can’t I be happy with a down to earth bloke? I suspect part of the trouble is that he wasn’t very urbane or sophisticated - and it feels wrong that that is what I’m wanting. Yet, I could see myself getting bored with him, despite his nice smell. So the on-line dating continues.
You are the kind of person who might do fabulously with a GPS (there I am giving advice again ;) ) Seriously though. Annoying as they can be, a GPS can also change your life! And they're way cheaper now than they used to be.
ReplyDeleteMr. Smells Good sounds very nice, but if there's no sparks for you, I say hold out for a decent "Mr. Sparky."
I'm chronically late AND have no sense of direction. Sadly I can't entirely blame the former on the latter.
ReplyDeleteNQ- I know, I really should get a GPS. However, the non Mr Sparky had used a GPS to meet at our destination and it took him on 10 km of unmade roads! Really.
ReplyDeleteAmy- well you could try though. Being on time adds to my sense of order somehow. . .