I was feeling on a dating high after myself and Amie’s night
out and decided that saying yes to new opportunities (e.g. man-finding
missions) is something that I fully intend to embrace in 2013 even more so than
in 2012. Thus when I received a message from the man that I had met on our
night out asking to go for a drink (let’s call him Pablo - that wasn’t his
name, but it will hopefully conjure up images of a tanned, dark, Mediterranean
man), I accepted.
With the wisdom of hindsight I now appreciate that this may
have been an incredibly naive decision. I genuinely thought it would be nice to
meet for a friendly drink, have a quick ‘actually-getting-to-know-you’ chat,
and leave it there, parting as friends. However, as soon as I laid eyes on
Pablo, without my alcohol tinted spectacles, I knew that I didn’t fancy him. He
still had the olive skin, pearly white teeth and luscious dark hair that he had
when I first met him, but by hiding those good looks behind a pair of
wire-rimmed glasses, weighed down with a heavy rucksack and clumsily going in
for a kiss on the cheek, he didn’t set butterflies fluttering around in my
stomach.
In addition, a friendly drink was clearly not quite what
Pablo had in mind. He seemed determined to make this drink something much more
meaningful. Within minutes of sitting down he had tried to kiss me (not on the
cheek this time), and asked when he could see me again. Without wishing to be
rude, I tried my hardest to dodge the question (and the kiss). As the evening
went on, I tried to move the conversation away from further dates whenever I
could subtly do so. I asked him questions about everything, ranging from his
job, to his family, to his academic career (all very impressive I might add). When
he persisted still, I reluctantly launched into the explanation that we lived
in different cities and that dating each other was not really feasible. It
didn’t work. To quote Pablo himself: ‘If you want to make something work, you
will find a way’. Well, that was the catch - I didn’t want to make it work. I
wanted a quick drink, a nice hello/ how are you/ goodbye, then parting to most
likely never speak again (in keeping with the true romantic that I am).
Eventually, after some extremely painful conversation
changes and apparently unable to hold back any more, he blurted out, ‘I’ve
never liked someone who doesn’t like me back before!’
I’ve learned my lesson the hard way – don’t meet up with your one-night man unless you definitely want to see him again...and again...and again.
