I was having a particularly crap day after my employer told me that he wanted me to sign a contract stating that the company did not have to pay me.. yeah right, like I was going to do that!
The next day, Mr Arrogant sent yet another text, asking me out. I decided that oh well as everything was crap anyway, I may as well give this douche a chance... after all he was extremely good looking if nothing else. He had sold his car the previous week as he was due to travel to Thailand and Sydney (long story, I know you are wondering why the hell I even went out with him!) Given that I thought Mr Arrogant was a douche, it did not bother me that he would be leaving the country in the slightest.. I actually thought that it would be great that he would be about as far away as he possibly could be! Anyway, I digress... I went to pick him up in the Mini, and as he was walking towards my car, he looked more handsome than I remembered. Swoon. He got in the car and the social retard in me came out a little bit. Oh crap, I couldn't think of anything to say. Never mind anything intelligent, absolutely anything would have done... Nope words seemed to have evaded me at that point.
We decided to drive towards Sea Ford, which is around a 20 min drive from home, to a) go somewhere with a little class, and where b) it could be just me and him, rather than have every Tom, Dick and Harry sticking their nose in our business. The price you pay for living in a town that mainly consists of an inbred population I guess. On the drive, my social skills develop from "oh crap, I have nothing in my head to say" thoughts and progressed to a few words in response when he spoke to me. Progress is progress, I am not complaining! And by the time that we found somewhere to park, I decided that Mr Arrogant wasn't such a douche after all.
We decided to walk from the car and stop we found somewhere nice. A lovely idea. But it was cold. And I had a LBD (with thick black tights, but a LBD none the less) and little pixie boots on and a little leather jacket. I was freezing. After a good ten minutes of walking we come across somewhere we both think suitable and go in. Thank the good lord, because I was starting to think that he had taken me on a guided tour of the North Pole. Penguin is not a good look on me! We go straight to the bar and we order drinks (soft for me of course because I am driving) and we go to the jukebox. Oh crap... I am going to have to admit my love for girlbands. I am not ashamed of my love for pop music, so what if I like singing and dancing and pretending I am the sixth member of Girls Aloud and The Saturdays. But it is hardly stuff for a first date.
We return and sit on stools at the bar and I notice the tattoo on his right arm... HOT! And then his cousin walks in. Followed by his uncle. Followed by their friends. And so the next 'oh crap' of the evening ensues.. "oh crap, more people to be nervous in front of". Great. It wasn't so bad though, I was polite, though I was worried I came across as one of those girls who looks like they are up themselves because they don't say very much. When in fact it was just a case of nerves! We return to our drinks having made conversation with his family and friends and it is just me and him again. Big old massive smile on my face! As the evening carried on, I realised I could not have be more wrong about this guy. He was not arrogant at all. He was The Perfect Gent. We spoke about anything and everything, and he asked me about Him. Once I explained the whole sorry story, he said that he felt like he understood me a lot more. That I made far more sense, and he could understand why I was wary. He also asked me why I had hated him so much, and asked why I had agreed to go on the date?...
I had told him the worst thing about me when I explained the ex-boyfriend thing, so I figured I might as well be totally honest and answer his questions. Why I previously hated him... He had got drunk and come up to me in our local one night about a year earlier and said "when did you get fit, I have never fancied you before but I woould quite like to give you one now"... as if I was going to fall into his arms and beg him to give me the night of my life. I believe he got a hair flick and a snarl for that! He was quite shocked when I told him, and I wondered why. It turns out that he didn't really remember it, and he said that he would have meant it as nothing but a compliment. I believed him. The way he said it combined with the sheer horror on his face when I told him made me believe that he wasn't just trying to get into my good books! And why I agreed to the date... I told him that I figured why not! He laughed!
I knew from almost as soon as we sat down in the pub that I wanted The Perfect Gent to kiss me. At the same time as feeling really bad for judging him. It was a rollercoaster I was on in that moment! I was pretty confused at how I could judge a person so wrongly. Though given my track record, I wasn't that great in picking good men really! We were the last people to leave the pub, and trekked for ten minutes back to the car, me just wishing that I had the guts to just pull him close to me, stand on my tippiest tip-toes and kiss him. Yeah that didn't happen. Wishful thinking and a half! We got into the car, and talked all the way home... I dropped him home and The Perfect Gent was a perfect gent.. he kissed me on the cheek... Wow, he knew how to make me want more....
Until We Meet Again... xx