Date number 1
I was excited. Nervous. He had talked about beautiful mornings, coffee and croissant, books and films. He would be mine. We talked about everything, our past, our future, our hopes, our dreams, he was just wonderful...or was he?
His apartment smelt of cat. Cat hairs all over the place. Why would a single man want to live with only a cat? His bookshelves were filled with books but it looked like books he had inherited. The apartment looked inherited. Everything was old and looked like it belonged to someone else. I did not really understand why he lived this way. Everything about him suggested a modern man that lived in a modern apartment...yet, his habits seemed old and calculated. He was in all sorts of boring clubs and unions. His music taste ended with classical. I was afraid to mention my love for hip hop and reggae...
Those wonderful summer days, spent walking by the sea, holding hands, reading together, sharing our secrets...wasn't it amazing? And when he did not call as often as he should, did I not fret? Cos I liked him so much...or did I?
There was the issue of his "dryness"...he did not laugh easily, and was perhaps a tad too serious. Compared to him, I was childish. Laughing easily at a picture of a man who had a tattoo of a butterfly on his buttocks. I thought it was funny, and laughed heartily while he looked at me like I was embarrassing him. There is also the issue of his singing in the choir. I don't trust anybody in a choir. I don't know why, but it all seems like fishy business to me...I have never liked "choirs" for some absurd reason. But he did give me his toothbrush to use... Two points. And minus ten for dryness. And the cat issue...
Date number 2
I wish I could give you details of erotic sex scenes, wild passionate nights, sex drugs and rock and roll, after all, when two creative people meet, shouldn't it be an explosion? Sadly, my second date was devoid of any sexual attraction. There was nothing to suggest that there would ever be any kind of spark between us. I had never really been with anybody who at 38, still dresses like "Green day". An old punk. But an incredibly nice old punk. He was some sort of sound artist, and he spent the night educating me on his art. I am hopeless with technical details and of course, did not understand anything, but it was interesting. He made an effort to get to know me and we spent the whole night talking. We did not talk about meeting again. There was really no need to mention something as obvious as the lack of attraction between us. It was unspoken, but friends we shall remain.
Date number 3
Considering date 1 also started off with a wonderful exciting feeling...I shall have no expectations. But he seemed nice. Thoughtful. Caring. And he walked me all the way to the station... he wrote afterward, that he had had a great time, but could that be trusted? It was lovely to see him again and he laughed at all my jokes and I totally got his too! We both did not want to go home yet, so we walked for quite a while, laughing all the time. The MINUS: He just got out of a relationship that he is not completely over yet. The plus: He has potential??? One more plus: He has lived in Africa and knew a lot about Afro beat, high life, etc. Big plus?
Update: Date number 4
I have to say, I am pleasantly surprised! Just came back from "date number 4". First of all, you should all know that I made no effort at all. For some reason, I just could not be bothered. I went there with an attitude. My attitude was "okay, lets get this over with loser!" Very sad, I know. The fact that I expect all men to be "losers". Anyway, so I go there with this attitude and who comes in? One of the most normal men I have met so far. Very much himself, was just okay. First we had coffee then we went to get some drinks. Just a normal conversation, nothing too spectacular. It was "pleasant", comfortable, not too tasking. Don't know what else to say, except, I think there is a possibility of me at least being curious enough to want to get to know him. Yes, I know that sentence looks complicated but I can't really describe it any other way. When we said good bye at the station,
He said "Maybe we'll keep in touch, yeah?
I said "Maybe"
"Well, sleep on it" he said.
For once my dear friends, for once, I am in the position to CHOOSE! HA HA HA HA HA (devilish laugh). Men are always "choosing" me. Not this time, mutherfuckers, now, I choose. I shall check them all out, weigh their pros and cons, and then, I SHALL CHOOSE! HA HA HA HA HA...anybody I don't like, well, out you go, and NEXT!