I’ve been staying in London with my cousin and her two, delightful housemates; one an eligible bachelor.
So here’s a dating tip, there’re two ways to ask someone on a date. 1) you wait until you’re alone and sheepishly hint at it. Being a little bit more tentative leaves you the safety of an escape route and the comfort of no witnesses. Or 2) you can do as I did and boldly ask within a previously informed group, leaving the potential datee no option but to succumb to peer pressure or look like a chop.
Thankfully, being a good sport, not too much convincing was needed and plans were made to meet him over his lunch break.
I was late; I missed the train.
I brought the burritos – he’s hot… and it was a ‘thanks’ for letting me spend the week in the apartment that he shares with my cousin. And he’s hot.
The date started with him saying, ‘I should have brought sunglasses because now I’m just going to look angry the whole time’. And indeed he did as, squinting, we ambled off to a London park to eat in the bright sunshine. There really is something about British summer, but I think it has a lot to do with everyone appreciating it because it appears so seldomly?!
The burrito was amazing. I ate the whole thing. I think the stereotype is that you’re supposed to leave a little so it looks like you’re a lady of real decorum. Good thing I’m not trying for a second date…
PS: This could have been date #5 or #6 if I had gone with either the Nigerian or German men that I met on the bus on their way back from work. On different occasions they invited ‘Amanda’ – my real-life pseudonym – out for drinks right then. In fact both asked me if they could come and spend some time with me back in South Africa. No thanks. As much as the date tally would look good, I’m not so into the old and creepy.