Small head, nice guy.

Just bumped into A on the way home looking lovely in the rain. I spotted her by the “Don’t Look Now” red raincoat. Love that coat! She reminded me to actually update this blog with dates as they happen. So here tis.

I somehow arranged a date on a Sunday lunchtime when, by rights, I should have been curled up under a blanket watching shite TV and drinking tea. To top it all off it’s raining here for the first time in literally years (this is not a fact) and I’ve still got a cold.

I realise, of course, that this is totally ridiculous. I spend all week, whilst my freedom is severely hampered by a small, but perfectly formed, baby, thinking of all the cool, adult, wild things I will do at the weekend. Then when it turns up I get a burning desire to hang around with the baby and not leave home. Also it rains a lot in England. This has never stopped my social life before, unless it was torrential and coincided with Eastenders, so why I use that as an excuse simply because I’m in America and don’t have welly boots, I don’t know.

So yep, dragged myself out into Manhattan after a comedy Skype session with my Dad. He could see and hear us, if he wore headphones, but we couldn’t hear him and he was all blurry. Sort of ideal for us really….

I’d agreed to meet a 41yr old musician called Matt at a coffee shop in the heart of the city (never used that expression before- it’s quite wanky isn’t it?). His profile seemed quite amusing and his photos showed a tall man (yes, I fall for it every time) with nice eyes- although possibly a hint of ‘tucked in t-shirt syndrome’.

It was a nice date, a little stilted until I’d had some caffeine and started chattering away like demented monkey, but not upsetting like Gabriel and his rucksack. For the first 45mins we discussed work and New York drivers, his bike accidents and what being a session musician is like. All interesting enough I suppose. We talked a lot about his separation from his wife (I totally asked all about this- I’m nosy and I’d run out of things to say. Not really) and his two sons. We talked about the effect people have on their children with different styles of parenting etc- most of which of course was bollocks as I don’t have any children but I can bullshit with the best of them. We had delicious hot chocolate, I went for a big poo, which I’d been waiting a while for, and we shared an enormous and delicious muffin.

There is nothing bad to say, except his head was too small. He looked just like he did in his pictures. He was easily 6ft and his body was certainly athletic, he had good skin, all his own teeth and a fine head of hair.

But.

His head was too small.

 

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