I wrote a post not so long ago about what goes through our heads before a date. Mainly questioning his attractiveness and why you’re sweating in places you never knew you could sweat from. But the thought process before a date seems such a sweet and hopeful thing, compared to the post date wrenching apart of every tiny thing you did.
1. Why didn’t he kiss me? I specifically avoided the garlic butter even though it is my life blood. So what’s his excuse? He definitely didn’t fancy me. Well that’s that then. But how could he not fancy me? I looked banging and my FLANTER was on top form. Maybe HE ate some garlic. Or hates kissing? HE’S MARRIED.
2. I wonder if he’ll even text me? What sort of prick wouldn’t even send a text to make sure I got home OK? Ugh I hate him. *receives ‘did you get home ok/thanks for a lovely evening’ text*. You: Awww. Screenshots to all your mates.
3. Was there a spark? I mean, I FELT ONE. If a spark is laughing constantly at his jokes, trying to surreptitiously look at what he’s packing and imagining the next 7 years of my life with him. But he definitely didn’t feel the same way did he? No, he probably hates me.
4. Oh there was totally a spark (PLOT TWIST). We didn’t stop chatting, we kept accidentally touching each other. He did the hand round the waist at the bar thing. We mentioned future plans in a roundabout, not in a trying too hard to be a Kenny Keeno way AND THAT KISS. Wow.
So why has he left me blue ticked for 4 days?
5. How many; I really want to try there/that would be a cool date/I’m free every day except Friday/I’m fucking THIRSTY hints do I have to drop before he bloody asks me out on date 2?
6. Should I ask him? Or is he one of those guys that prefers the chase? What if he thinks I’m not interested? If I ask him, he’ll know I’m interested and we can just get this thing moving. OK I’ll wait. *waits 4373 whatsapps before finally giving up*
7. I talked about my ex/talked too much/didn’t give lingering eye contact/told him about my blog/didn’t get the punchline of my John Wayne joke right/did my annoying American accent thing too many times/didn’t offer to buy a round quickly enough/yawned whilst he spoke about sailing/didn’t sleep with him/did sleep with him/couldn’t get him off (but he HAD been drinking)/got too drunk/was too nervous/had eyeliner on my cheek/DID SOMETHING SO FUCKING STUPID AND UNLIKE ME AND COMPLETELY BALLSED EVERYTHING UP.
8. Do I even want a second date? I’ve spent so much time up my own arsehole dissecting what I did right/wrong that I haven’t even thought about whether I actually like him. He was *quite* boring. His jokes weren’t *that* funny. He was quite short with the bar staff and I’m pretty sure a few of his comments were racist/sexist/homophobic, unless he was joking? But actually, still not funny.
9. Was he even that fit? Or did I like his Tinder pictures more? Did the 12th cocktail give me the fanny flutters or was it actually him? I mean, I think he had nice eyes. And dressed well. But didn’t he wear red shoes? I think his voice was also way too camp. Could I imagine myself in bed with him, if I already haven’t been?
10. Is he the one? Because if he isn’t, do I really have that much time and head space to waste on wondering if something was there or not?
DATING. IS. HARD.