“That was the worst date ever”
I kid you not, these were the words used by this person on our last 1-1 meeting, at a speed dating function over a year ago. For no good reason, she allowed me the chance to make up for it.
Now, the more perceptive of you will notice my extraordinary title. And the culturally clued-up will, above noticing that it’s there at the top of the page, recognize it as something else. My date may or may not have simply agreed to a date because I was a good excuse to see the local Beatles tribute musical a second time, and I don’t blame her one bit. There was some serious talent on that stage. I’ll leave that ambiguous…
Actually, this was a great date. I think even she will agree. Firstly, it’s awesome to spend time with somebody who knows more about the Beatles than that most commercials use their music. Culture.
A few things made it difficult though. Like apparently you shouldn’t whistle in the company of others. Easy enough, until you walk out of a Beatles tribute. Plus I had the pressure of making up for being a turd, the kind that you have after a bubblegum milkshake and breyani, on our last meeting.
4 down. I am now running out of people who’s numbers I have but don’t have on Facebook, so the blind dates begin. Maybe bubblegum milkshake and breyani images aren’t the one’s to conjure.