John Denver, Me and Debbie McGee

The reason I’ve been so slack in keeping you updated on the saucy happenings of the last week or so, is that I’ve had a stinking cold. It’s not man-flu but it’s come pretty close.

If you remember on the Friday of DateFest Week I was supposed to meet with Gabriel after Fernando, but then it all got very filthy and Gabe went out the window so to speak. Let’s be clear here though, I didn’t stand him up. I would never do that, unless the bloke was an arse and really deserved it. Although to be honest I’m so shit-scared of karma I’d probably never do it anyway.

We had made a very loose arrangement, whereby I would message him around 10pm if I was free. He was going to a Passover Seder with friends and tried to tempt me with the fact that he would be ‘all dressed up’. Whoop whoop! Little did he know that I would far prefer him to be dressed as a bin man- in a bit of dirty high-vis….. the old suit stuff really doesn’t do it for me.

So come Monday, once I’d crawled out of my horrible hangover and shame, I emailed to say sorry I didn’t get in touch, my evening had gone on longer than expected. Which was the truth, and I felt at this early stage in our relationship Gabriel probably didn’t need to know about the hallway shenanigans.

We arranged to meet for a cup of tea on Thursday afternoon and he got back to me to say he was really looking forward to it as he felt like ‘there had been a big build up to us meeting’. Umm, I felt nothing of this, as I still had a cold and have had enough failed meetings to know not to get excited, but reasoned that giving up on my mission due to ill-health was just bad form. I simply wanted to get it over and done with. Unfortunately his feeling continued throughout our date.

His profile pictures showed a tall man with wolf-like blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. In reality, once again, he wasn’t particularly tall and the wolf eyes just looked a bit mad. His hair was more salty than peppery and looked like his mum may have cut it for him. When I arrived at our meeting place he was pacing around outside as he ‘hadn’t wanted to go in on his own’. His voice was very nasal and to begin with I thought he was putting it on for a laugh. No such luck.

Maybe he was a nice man but I just couldn’t get past the beige sports jacket, the grey slacks (too short) and the black rucksack he had with him. I sat through an hour of him questioning me as to how seriously I was looking for a boyfriend, making cheesy comments about my eyes (probably hoping I was going to mention his) and talking through his nose. He had studied my profile before coming out and asked me questions about things I’d written such as ‘please message me if you’re funny and not just your Mum says so’, Gabriel took this pretty literally and then tried to prove he was funny. Ouch. Painful. Then he subjected me to a fifteen minute lecture on American Politics. Yeehah.

There was nothing I found attractive about him. I sat there mainly because I hadn’t been out of the house for days and really needed some fresh air. He was actually quite handsome but just so geeky it just didn’t work for me. If he hadn’t been interviewing me the whole time for the position of his girlfriend I may have thought he was quite a nice man. When I described him to my sister she said,’Oh, so sort of John Denver looking?’. Indeed like John Denver but without the mountain- man-with-guitar thing going on.

Our date, at a French cafe which I love to go to for the cakes, was punctuated by a very odd young waiter who decided- I think due to my Britishness- that he was going to serve us as if we were all in the Victorian era. We sat outside as there was no-one else in the cafe and the two waiters were like buzzing flies, hovering around us. Every so often this waiter, and sometimes his friend also, would come outside to bow and scrape and enquire as to whether he could ‘provide us with further refreshment?’ When I asked for some tea they both came holding a box with a selection of teas that Mr Victorian Slave Boy displayed to me like Debbie McGee. If I hadn’t been full of snot and feeling utterly let down by John Denver I would have found it all very funny but my fight or flight reflex had kicked in and I was getting ready to run.

I was telling some harmless little tale about the baby and my week when Gabriel interrupted to ask me (interrogation style) if I wanted to meet up again. A very difficult question to answer to someone’s face. I pride myself on my honesty so I simply replied,”yes, great- let’s hang out, sounds cool, next week?’ All said at high-speed, through gritted teeth whilst looking at the sky.

We went inside to pay- he was ‘a little short of cash’ (Director of Nurses Union) and so I ended up paying. What an arse. We then walked up the road and I prayed that no-one I knew saw me walking with him and his trousers lacking in length, I said goodbye outside mine (small peck on cheek whilst he tried to go for lips) and literally ran inside.

Gabriel may have had a very strange way of talking and an odd style of questioning but I think his she’s-just-not-that-into-you-radar was working perfectly fine, as I haven’t heard from him since. I’m slightly disappointed, bloody John Denver- just wanted me for the free tea….


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. tams
    Apr 23, 2012 @ 15:08:10

    love this! John Denver wanted free tea, the cheek of it


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