And then the date itself...

And then there's the date itself. The phone calls, texts, emails can not prepare you for this.
It's show time now, baby.

So carefully primped and primed, a little drink to take the edge off and then the meet, which in itself can be disastrous. I know, I think, in the first moments. I either get that Frank Sinatra feeling or I don't.
And if I don't, my heart does sink a little but I have also been very lucky.

I have yet to experience that REALLY BAD DATE, where the conversation dries up and I have yet to put the SOMETHING BAD HAS HAPPENED phone call to good use; I've had the marathon date where the kiss at the end of the night left me weak kneed and goofy grinned and that awkward 2 drinks "I'm very tired and how do I get out of here without that good night kiss" date...
Which is probably why I will never accept a dinner invitation first off, I prefer to go for drinks and then see how it progresses.

One of the worst experiences was several months ago when I allowed, at a very weak moment, a friend to set me up with his friend. A lovely bloke, by all accounts. Attractive, and a little younger than me. A doctor no less, and dinner was arranged. As he lived out of London (Bam!) and was a vegetarian (Bam!) he suggested I choose the venue. Bam! Bam! Bam!

This did not bode well.

I should have seen all the signs.

As it is I am painfully indecisive, and a carnivore. I tried vegetarianism once before, but it didn't last. So with some help from friends, we decided on Eat and Two Veg. Dinner. No drinks. Final nail in the coffin.

He was indeed lovely. And attractive. He was charming. And deep. So deep that pre appetizers he'd descended into the conversation about his ex and how he crashed his car because of her.
And as the starters arrived, it hit me. I was on a date with Doogie Hoswer MD. And not a glass of wine in sight.

Granted, I wasn't bored. But when he suggested after dinner drinks, reached over the table and held my hand, I knew then that I should have stayed at the bar.