On the Brink; or, That Elusive 4th Date.

So after a weekend of thinking about Spencer (quite a lot) but not texting him (it's that old chestnut, who texts first? Do you go straight in or do you play it cool for a few days? So many questions), he finally messaged me and asked if I wanted to meet up again. I did, I did!

It was so nice to look forward to, not dread, a second date, and be excited and nervous at the same time. I hadn't felt that in so long; that awkward, scary feeling when you still don't know someone properly but really like them.

Our second date was a few drinks at a cocktail bar; which turned into chinese in China town. Spontaneous but I really liked that he suggested it. It was really pretty walking along under the lanterns, the food was great (but felt so full, way too much to eat!) and he offered to pay too, which is always really lovely, I do like being looked after. We chatted more about our families, ambitions, things like that, and we sort of skirted into the issue of his ex girlfriend. I think we got onto the subject of what he did last Christmas, and he said he spent it skiing with her family. I did the whole concerned, 'oh, so why did you break up in the end?' thing (If he brings up an ex, you can't ignore the issue, may as well strike) and turned out he was with her for SEVEN years and they ended up just drifting apart. "Oh, but we're still friends, I see her every month or so."

Do you now? Hmmm. #alarmbells

I have no issue with anyone being friends with an ex, to a point. But I also know that when you have been with someone for 7 years, and you've been broken up for 7 months, and you're still friends, there must be some feeling there. For both or either party. I kept my silence but it did niggle at me.

After that we had a little wander down Shaftesbury avenue, held hands (!), had a few (a lot) of kisses, generally feeling quite giddy and happy. The holding hands was a big deal as I hadn't actually held hands with a boy I'd liked for... years. It struck me as a strange feeling until I realised that fact; the reason it was so strange was because it was alien to me. Like driving again after not driving for 8 months; you know what to do, but it's weird. An actual boy was holding actual hands with actual me, and meaning it. It was nothing short of a miracle, I tell you. Could this be it? The beginning of something really exciting?

We texted a few times, and then arranged another date the following week, this time to see a film. 3rd date territory was new to me, I'd only ever got to 2 dates and it was clear I wasn't interested. We saw Rise of the Planet of the Apes (hilarious film, not terrible, but quite ridiculous) at Leicester Square Empire - if you've ever been there you'll know it's a great little cinema, really small intimate screens. I could tell he was trying to edge over to kiss me during the film but I relented - nothing against him, but really, I hate kissing at the cinema. It just feels very teenage-y, and besides, I actually want to watch the film! I don't like kissing in public (too much) at the best of times and if a couple are getting off in front of me, it annoys me. So I was kind of skirting away, ha. Afterwards we went for a few cocktails, but as it was a wednesday I had work the next day so had to leave early-ish. But another successful date, really enjoyed being with him.

The question now, which I still don't really know the answer to, is when does it move onto 'this is the guy I am seeing'? 3 dates still feels like you've only been on... 3 dates, obviously, but at what point does it move to 'I am spending lots of time with you, therefore you are more than just a guy I'm dating, but you're not my boyfriend yet because as far as I know you are dating other girls.'? It felt like we were just moving into this territory. The dates were going well, the 4th date was very similar (we went to Zizzi's, had a walk along the southbank, lovely lovely) and it really felt like it was on the edge of something; like the next few weeks would tip it over into 'officially seeing each other' category.

The problem was, I was about to go on holiday. I've got friends who have been seeing guys, then they go away, and when they come back, because they haven't seen them, everything's weird and wrong and one or the other has lost interest. It's like starting a fire, you have to look after it a bit and feed it and stoke it otherwise it'll go out. Unfortunately, I was about to go on holiday right at the point where it could go either way with this guy.

There were a few things not right. First of all, outside of our dates, we wouldn't really talk that much, except to arrange more dates, which were religiously once a week, it seemed. A few texts here and there but not a lot. He wasn't very observant (didn't notice when I had my hair cut! Boohoo), didn't really ever actually compliment me, and our conversations were fine but not particularly deep or groundbreaking. He had only just moved to London, so it was down to me to arrange where to go on dates, as he didn't really know anywhere. This in itself was fine, but I would have liked if he'd gone, let's go for dinner, I'll have a google and see what's good. Just once, at least. Also, the fact that he'd only just moved to London gave me a thought at the back of my head that, a guy in his early 20s just moving to London, perhaps doesn't want to meet someone in the first month of him being there. Maybe he wants to play around a bit. Who knows.

So we saw each other the day before I went away for 2 weeks, and he texted me the night before saying have a good time, see you when you back, etc. So far, so good, right?

Right?

The Guardian Columnist; Round 2.

Neither of us are as beautiful as these cinema-loving smiley people.

After our previous date, I didn't hear anything off MyLifeYourHands for a few days, until he texts me one night asking if I want to see a film the following evening. He had been invited to a press screening (glamorous lifestyle, jels) so wondered if I wanted to be his +1, and was I free? Yes I was... so I agreed, and then asked what film it was. Probably should have asked what film it was first, in retrospect. Turned out to be Friends With Benefits - you know, the one where the impossibly and depressingly beautiful people Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis agree to be fuck buddies with hilarious and poignant consequences. Ho ho ho, retch retch retch. But, I'd already said yes, and, I secretly enjoy terrible romcoms. A lot.

Actually, the film wasn't half bad. It was quite self-aware, knew that it wasn't breaking any new ground, had a funny, fresh script and made me laugh. I generally hate seeing romcoms on dates (oh the pressure), especially if there are sex scenes - I think I'd rather watch a sex scene with my parents than with someone I hadn't yet, but potentially could have, but you're not quite sure if you will, had sex with. Minefield. Field of mines.

It was fine though. He didn't do any lean-y over, hold-y hand shit during it (although didn't even attempt to... sulk), in fact he seemed slightly more interested in his phone. And this continued throughout the date actually, which perhaps should have set off more alarm bells than it did, but perhaps I am naive, or gullible, or just not as observant as I should be during a date with someone who writes about dates for a living.

It sort of went like this. He took a call straight after the film, from his editor or some such, (which is fine - phone calls are allowed...) and then apologised and said he had to tweet about the film for a bit, as that was his end of the deal for seeing the film for free. Fine, I said, no problem at all, especially as he explained there was no signal in the screening room and he was supposed to tweet throughout the film, so he had some catching up to do. Aha, that explained the phone checking.

Between the tweeting, our conversation was as engaging and interesting as ever, and I had a good time. We went on to a nice pub, had some nice wine, etc etc. I assumed the phone activity would stop after a while (how much can you talk about Justin Timberlake? Jeez) but it didn't. One minute we'd be talking quite animatedly about some topic or other (orange juice I think was brought up at one point) the next he'd literally trail off mid sentence to check his phone.

Most people would probably be like 'Yo, dude, what's with the phone?' (if they were ghetto), but I am not ghetto, nor am I particularly brave in social/date confrontations. What was I supposed to do? So I sort of ignored it, after all - it wasn't particularly annoying me, he seemed fairly interested in what we were talking about, but at the same time thinking, well, I can't say anything, otherwise he'll write to all his Guardian readers (there are a lot) and say I was some kind of whiny phone-hating orange-juice loving romcom-cynical short irate blonde girl. Or something.

Like I said, the actual date, minus the phone situ, was great again, but I quickly realised he definitely didn't like me - and that I was just someone available for his +1. Which was fine, really - I have been on many dates, you don't want to marry them all. The phone usage confirmed this to me. So imagine my surprise, my shock, when at the end of the date, he went to kiss me. I know! And, because of this confusion, it turned into a weird side of mouth kiss, then cheek kiss, and oh god he did actually try to kiss me and I didn't kiss him because I thought he hated me but he doesn't and wtf boys are WEIRD.

I got home, and check twitter. This is a usual thing, just as a pre-bed, oh good the world hasn't ended, I can sleep, sort of thing. This is my main twitter account I'm referring to by the way, not my @SingleGirlStory one - I hadn't started this blog back then. And what do I discover as I scroll through the past few hours? Mylifeyourhand's tweets are quite frequent tonight. Very frequent. He's talking about a date. He's talking about OUR date. LIVE. That's what he was doing! He wasn't just talking about the film, he was discussing me and the things I was saying! With his scary Guardian twitter followers! This was not in the contract. I was fine with being written about in the column (as was clearly not going to happen here, and never was) but this was live - and, by very virtue of twitter, conversational. I usually have no problem with strangers listening to my musings (case in point, this blog) but on my terms. Not secretly! Argh!

If he had said beforehand, listen I have to live tweet our date, I would have been a bit, hmmm... ok, and I would probably have been fine with it - I understood his column totally and was quite willing to be part of the circus of it. I would just say, can you let me know what you're writing or let me know when you're tweeting, so I don't think I'm boring you; or, more importantly, I wouldn't have said all these stupid off the cuff kooky things that make me look like a crazy, in the first place. Not so cute now is it, single girl? All these things you were saying to what you thought was one person, but was actually about 2 million! (Slight exaggeration. I don't actually know how many followers he has. More than 10. Less than a million. Probably.)

He said some nice things, yes, I won't deny that - something about my shoes matching my glasses (totes intentional, er.. yeah) and how hot I am (may have made that up) etc, but also berated me for drinking my wine too slowly (it's a worknight, I'm not an alcoholic?) and also twisted a couple of things I said - I assume to make it more interesting for his followers. I recall the hashtag #shouldIbeworried? being used.

Oh yes, you bloody well should. Fuming, was I. He hadn't referred to me by name, or twitter handle, at all, which was good obviously, but it was more the fact that I seemed to have been used for entertainment for his twitter followers. As far as I could tell, I was only good enough for a second date if various people throughout the land could all get involved and share and discuss my quirky conversational strategies. Fail, utter utter fail.

Anyway, reading through, he also tweeted about the disastrous end of date kiss, admitted it was disastrous (thank god) and asked his followers whether he should text me now to apologise or wait til tomorrow? This was weird. Should I just watch and wait and see. Should I just text him so taking the decision off his hands? And why was I stuck in this vortex of weirdness? Why?

I figured I may as well text. I didn't want to launch into an angry text tirade (I wasn't that angry - just a little shocked I suppose) so just went for the softer approach - said that I've just seen your twitter, I didn't realise you were live tweeting, that's why I didn't kiss you because I didn't think you were interested. And yes the kiss was weird but if I thought you liked me I would've kissed you back. Maybe next time. Or something along those lines. He replied, apologised, the usual. The end.

I went to bed in self-annoyance and a little alcohol-induced upset, cursing my bad luck with these strange men and strange dates, and cursing this stupid hellhole people call 'being single'. It's bloody difficult, that's what it is!

The next day I woke up and I was fine. Silly me.

I'm still confused as to why he tried to kiss me though - because he can't have liked me that much if he was tweeting about me - but I guess I'll never know. I was annoyed at him for a while but I forgave him because I think he is actually a nice guy; just perhaps got taken in by the power that his column gave him. And I got an amusing story out of it too, didn't I? Maybe he was forced into doing it and felt guilty and that's why he kissed me. Aren't boys strange?

Moral of the story: Don't go on dates with boys who write about their dates. I realise this is ironic. Maybe, don't go on dates with boys if you know they write about their dates. Ignorance is bliss.