The next date I go on is near my work. This man works in London but lives outside of it, and he doesn’t seem excited about having to stay in London to meet with me. Actually, he doesn’t seem excited about much.
I get to leave work early so that he doesn’t have to wait for too long, and as I rush to the pub, I see him standing outside. I worry the vibe might already be ruined, so I try and be as nice as I can. We go in, and he pays for my drink, a large red; he buys himself half a pint and says that he’s not a big drinker. I regret everything I have done. We sit down in the back of the pub, and the interview stage of a first date begins: where do you live, where are you from, siblings, job, etc., but it becomes clear very fast that none of us are interested in those questions, and he starts telling a story about a family trip. If the fact that he owns his flat wasn’t enough, it becomes evident from this story that his family is very well off. And as someone with a poor single mum and a well-paid single dad, how much money isn’t the end all be all for me, but it is fascinating. Also, because being rich in the UK is a completely different metric system than in Denmark, or at least the Denmark I grew up in.
Anyway, I chose for us to meet up in a sports bar, and I quickly realised that he is a big sports fan because the TV next to us takes up a lot of his focus when I’m talking. But it’s okay; he is nice, good-looking and confident, so he spends the majority of the date talking about himself and about stories from his life. I am very comfortable being the active listener, and in that way we build a strong rapport, with him talking and me looking interested. I relax in it, but I also see the problems around it.
We walk towards the station together, and he compliments my trench coat. He considers himself a fashion guy, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him.
Halfway to the station he stops me and tells me that he’s going to get a pizza slice, and then he kisses me goodbye and tells me he wants to see me again, and I say maybe, because I do want to see him again, but I don’t want to seem like a sure thing.
This date is familiar; he is familiar. A guy who can talk a mile a minute about himself and his experiences but can’t think to ask me any questions about myself or my life. A guy who pulls me into him and kisses me. A guy who seems disinterested in anything I have to say but will let me cling on to a single compliment. I have loved these guys before; it’s a toxic love, but it’s comfortable. It feels winnable, but it isn’t.
We’ve been talking every day since; he wants me to travel outside of London to see him at his place. He’s promised takeaway, South Park and kisses on the couch. It is below the bare minimum of what I deserve or what I should expect. I am still considering it.
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