November 4th 2018

Today I went on a coffee date that turned into a pub date because, as it turns out, coffee shops aren’t open on Sunday evenings. Who knew? We didn’t meet until four o’clock, so I had plenty of time to be anxious about it after waking up. For some reason, I showered three times this morning. I think mostly it was an excuse to kill some time and not remain in my own head for too long. And also to, y’know, shower.

I’m new to this dating thing, and it’s all still scary to me. But that’s allowed, right? As soon as I’d started driving though, it got a bit easier. It was the waiting around that was bothering me, more than anything. I should’ve gone to play golf or something.

When I got to the pub (although technically they prefer to be called a “brewery”) I made my first (of two) embarrassing faux pas of the evening and spent what felt like a full minute (but was more likely about 5 seconds) trying to open a door that clearly was not supposed to be opened. Thankfully, she wasn’t around to see that bit.

Then, at the end of the date, we walked to my car together — from where she was walking on to her house — and said goodbye. My second embarrassment came when she said “drive safe” and I said “you too” even though her house was a thirty-second walk away. Damn it, James. That’s the kind of social fuckup that can keep a guy up at night. I can still remember the time I said “you too” when someone wished me a happy birthday.

So, other than me being a numpty (I feel weird unironically using the word “numpty”, but I thought “dickhead” was being a bit harsh on myself) at the start and at the end, I think the rest of the date went well. She did say “let me know if you want to do this again” but that was before the whole “you too” debacle so I might have blown it right at the end.

Until tomorrow, you too.



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