Well wow guys. First “date” I have been on in years that actually felt like a date.

So it’s meeting 2 with the Italian and after really fucking up being late last time, I decided to be early this time!!! They say the road to hell is paved with good intention right?
Well, I decided to wear my “pizza dress” (you know the one with the mushroom Incident last week?) because it’s since proven pretty successful with pizza (once I learnt to maneuver past the boobs!!).
So, I get into the Uber with plenty of time to spare and almost everything that could go wrong on the journey, went wrong. Bridges were closed. Roads were closed. The driver ran out of petrol. So the entire time, I am messaging him with timing updates and he’s so unbelievably Italian and is super chill and says “in my country, up to 30 minutes is not considered late”. so I’m now officially in love with him that he can tolerate my tardiness twice in a row.
So while in the taxi, previous tinder date (who is now my friend), starts messaging me and I tell him that I am schlepping to North London to have pizza!!!. This is a big deal for me, as I don’t like leaving central london at all. So I stupidly let out a flippant thought saying I hope it’s better than the trip to the supermarket for dessert date. And the bastard replies saying that we are probably going to Dominoes!!!! Like why would be put that thought in my head? Why? Now all I can think about is if I need to get a half and half or spring for a meal deal!!!

I have been sat in this uber for over an hour on a journey that promised to be 25 minutes!!! I feel like I have sat here so long, that I have witnessed world war 3, my great grand children have just celebrated their 100th birthday, and the iPhone 89 has just been released !!!!! It just keeps going on and on and on. I’m scared to blink in case i open my eyes to a similar scene to Will Smith in “I Am Legend”
Uber lies and false promises. Fake news Uber. Fake news.
So I rock up to restaurant and I’m not just late for an English person, but also now late for an Italian (I’m still early for a Trinidadian so don’t panic too much!).

So he’s made an effort also and looks very sweet. Sadly, the restaurant is busy so we have to go to a local pub and have a drink until a table is ready. Unfortunately, it’s the middle of a football match and I hate one of the teams with a passion. So, I buy us a pint each (yes I got cider darlings), and we awkwardly perch on the edge of the bar.

Conversation is slow. And we end up chatting about nearly all the same topics as the last time we met. I secretly plot an escape plan (which may or may not have involved setting fire to things!). However, just as I was trying to find a box of matches at the bar, we got the call that our table was ready.
Thank goodness. Pizza will save the convo.

The pizza was good but not the best I had ever tried. It reminded him of Home and with every bite, he became more and more nostalgic. And with every swig of wine, the conversation flowed better and better.

He was remarkably funny and so smart and talented. He did however eat his pizza with a knife and fork which freaked me out.

I gave him a slice of my pizza. Y’all know that’s a big deal for me!!! We may as well be married now!!!

This was a good date and felt “datey” as he gently touched my fingers with his until they were intwined.

And you try not to get excited and think about the future. You really do. But all I could think about was prosecco picnics in the park and little pizza babies running through fields chasing pepperoni butterflies.

We then went on and got more drinks in a rather random little bar in North London and he planned our next pizza date. In fact, he had an entire list of places we are going to….. all pizzerias (he had done his research on me!!). and he’s going to cook me pasta (like a proper Italian). Although he said “potato pasta sauce” which I am Hoping is just a translation issue rather than an actual dish!!! (Potatoes and pasta cooked together and made into a sauce)

And it all sounds lovely apart from he hates dogs (so it clear won’t work out), and all I can think about is how much I need to pee and get out of these spanx!!! Why must my clothes torture me so?

From the beginning of the evening.

He is revenge late (see previous post here) and told me to get an uber to a coffee shop in Bermondsey.

I entered my uber in central london and seemed to exit In Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Surrounded by hipsters and losing the will to live.

The coffee shop was filled with pretentious twats mispronouncing chipotle and kombucha.

I ended up ordering an artisanal, fair trade, organic Apple juice where the “barista” made sure to tell me how they had visited the farm personally and liked the “ethos”. They are playing Blur in a non ironic way (in a yup, Blur actually made another album after they were famous!!!).
Kill me now. Just kill me!!!

So he turns up and he looks casual as fuck. And I’m dolled up with a dress, and makeup (ignore the Converse for the moment). And he informs me that the tapas place is full so he knows another place nearby. A steak house.
Y’all know I’m a vegan. I’m not a preachy vegan by any means. But knowing someone is a vegan, you wouldn’t suggest a steak house as a dinner date would you? This is what my inner monologue is saying. My actual response was “ok, no problem. I’m sure they have something vegan I can have.”.
We turn up and I ask the waitress if I can look at the menu before we sit down. It’s all in french. French isn’t usually a problem for me but I’m just not in the right frame of mind to translate anything….. and I’m hungry. So I tell the waitress that I’m vegan and is there anything at all I can eat? So she says the chef will rustle up something. Phew.

We sit down and he orders a steak and I get “whatever the chef can rustle up!”.

Conversation is awkward. He’s asking me for career advice as he’s quitting his job. What is it about me that people keep confusing with a careers advisor? So I’m like “be an instagrammer!!” Trying to be facetious. Sadly he thought I was being serious and then asked me how to become an instagrammer.

Food turns up and my meal was literally 3 baby potatoes and 5 asparagus Spears!!!! Now, yes. I sometimes am prone to exaggerating a little…. sometimes. But this was actually what was served to me.
Y’all know how much I enjoy my food and this “meal” made me want to cry.

He’s just learnt to swim (bless him), and tells me all about his lessons.

So my potatoes have been eaten and the bill arrives. I pull out my card (standard for me. I always go Dutch) fully expecting to pay for meal. He then tells he server, we will be splitting the bill. So I end up paying £24 ($30) for my 3 baby potatoes and asparagus. ?

He proposes we get dessert. Finally something I can be excited about. He will redeem himself.
He tells me that there is somewhere nearby that has a few options and my heart actually sings. Waffles? Pancakes? Cheesecake? Please be cheesecake.

So we cross the road and we walk into co-op supermarket to grab “dessert”!!!! I have never been so horrified in my entire life.
For my international readers, Co-op is a chain of supermarkets that are fully stocked with empty promises and disappointment. Think the awesomeness of 7Eleven while you are drunk!!!

He takes the last ice cream and then says “what you gonna have?”. This is the moment where my heart actually tore in two. He had lulled me into false hope and had watched me fall from a tremendous height. So I picked up a mini pack of pineapple. “I’ll just have this”.

I then suggest we get an uber so we aren’t late for my friends show and he laughs at me, suggesting we get the bus. I have never had anyone laugh at me for suggesting we get an uber. Yes I know I am uber obsessed, but what is life without small pleasures?

At this point I just want to make up an excuse and leave. But he knows I am going to the show, and it would just be awkward so I follow him onto the bus.
We don’t talk.

We turn up at the show and it’s superb and awkward and brilliant. The Australian Just isn’t into it and seems bored out of his mind. I’m laughing hysterically

One of my improv friends turns up late and sits behind me with what looks like a mail order Bride (sorry Paul). And as the show goes on my brain starts going. Should I start a mail order bride business? What is a good web domain for this kinda business? Is selling people illegal? everywhere? Is this a better option than Tinder?
By the end of Mike’s show, I had about 50 domains to purchase. All stupid puns along the lines of the Kinko’s slogan “make it. Print it. Pack it. Ship it”.

So the show ends and I’m pretty sure this guy hasn’t smiled once. I really needed to pee (and update y’all as to how awful this was). So I spend about 20 minutes lingering in the bathrooms. I wish I had taken a hip flask. Mental note to always carry a hip flask in case of emergency.
Maybe I could use the doggy camera and train a dog to bring me a flask of booze a la St Bernard’s!! So I start watching YouTube videos on how to train your dog to bring you things……. specifically bottles of booze. Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly, there aren’t many videos on this).

I eventually emerge from the bathroom and I’m pretty sure he breaths a sigh of relief that I actually returned. I wonder if it’s possible to hold my breath long enough to pass out???.

I try and end the evening by saying that i had fun and I’m going to go grab a drink with my friends from the show and stupidly, stupidly say “would you like to come?” He says yes and I then start to fantasize as to what a frontal lobotomy without pain relief feels like!!

I’ve never drunk a coke so fast in my life and used my dogs as an excuse to leave.
I had secretly hoped he would leave and I could double back and rejoin my friends. He however insists on walking me home ?

As we are walking, a drunk guy covered in vomit is dragged out of a pub into a police car and shouts to me “alright darling”. His girlfriend follows him closely behind crying. And I start wondering as to if a date with this drunkard would have been more fun!!!! Least there would have been a good story to tell!! Vomit vs Boredom? I can’t decide. I think his gf had a better night than I did!!!

So I’m now home, watching Pokémon (and working out how many degrees I need to get out of  the Spanx I appear to be trapped in!!) and he just texted me that he wants to see me again!!! FML

So this is my current face in an uber.

So my uber pulls up and the driver gets out the car and holds the door open for me. And being me, I’m like “oh, hey Kim. Looking good”. He then asks if he should put the air conditioning on. Yup, I’m legit going to marry this guy.
It was all going so well until he asks “how far along I am!!”.
Me “how far along? Like to the theatre?”
Him “no in your pregnancy!”
Me “ohhhhhhh”

So I have typical fat girl problems and often get asked how far along I am in my pregnancy when people spot my bagel belly.

So instead of being a normal person and saying “nah bitch, I’m just fat”, I do my usual thing and just lie saying I am pregnant, and start making up shit about scans and sexes and all this other stuff. See friends with children, i do Kinda listen to what you’re saying without even realizing.

He then says he remembers me from a previous uber trip and how is that last child doing?
Ffs, like the only uber driver who has ever remembered me also remembers my last fake pregnancy.

So now I’m stuck in an uber having an entire conversation about how baby Timmy is really looking forward to having a baby brother. His name will probably be Tommy (I don’t know where that came from guys. I’m disappointed in myself also!!! ).

So I’m now expecting another imaginary child who I already have enrolled in the best pre school in the borough!!!!!

All this for some air conditioning

So as per my post earlier, I wasn’t really feeling up for a Tinder date tonight but didn’t want to cancel the guy after already changing the time twice today.

So I should preface this date with a shopping trip I had with a friend last week. She was sick of me just wearing a sports bra and schlep clothes that she took me shopping for lingerie that fits and forced me to buy multiple bra and panty sets. To be fare on her, I did have a steamy date that night so there was method to her madness.

Back to today. So because England decided to be graced with the coy presence of the sun , I realized that I couldn’t wear my regular first date outfit and had to think a little more abstractly.

I ended up picking a floral dress and some plimsols (because I am the only girl in the world who owns hardly any shoes!).
So I was looking pretty good in the outfit, considering I got ready in 10 minutes (and was already 10 minutes late) and was ready to meet my future ex from Tinder.

I picked a venue close to me. Anyone that knows me irl, knows I always go to the same place. It’s not remotely original but I like the food, atmosphere, and I also get a nice discount for being a regular ?

It’s less than 5 minutes walk from my flat so I let Tinder man know my eta. The only problem was, I was having peripheral vision issues. My eyesight was absolutely fine, but wearing this bra was unfocusing me. Wherever I looked, all I could see was boobs. Trying to cross the road? Boob obstruction. Putting my headphones away? Boob obstruction!!! Like my boobs were just everywhere I looked.
I’m not usually breast obsessed. They are just generally pillows. However, this new bra had somehow turned my breasts into Ursula Anderson In Bond mixed with Madonna in Vogue!!!

It also became a problem when I walked past the pub and I felt everyone was staring!!! Someone even asked how my day was!!!!!! (That is highly suspect from a Londoner!!).
So I ran (ok walked) back home to get a cardigan.

By this point, I was now 20 minutes late and I’m Pretty sure the guy thought I had stood him up.

I was able to walk better once covered up and met the date outside the venue. Now he had pre texted me what he was going to be wearing (a suit) and I knew this would go one of two ways. Either I instantly declare my love for him (knowing how much I love a man in a suit), or I think he is a politician. Thankfully it was the latter, and I was able to focus a little more on the conversation.

First thing he mentioned was how tall I am!!!!! I don’t understand why men on Tinder seem so surprised that someone who says they are 6ft tall, actually turns out to be 6ft tall!!!! It seems to be an ongoing theme recently.

So he’s lovely and buys me pizza (a sure way to my heart), I buy him beer (a way to a mans heart), and we find some seats. He offers to take my cardigan from me and before I had a chance to think, my bloody boobs were out like a beacon for every lost soul in the venue. Some random stranger actually came up to me and pulled a chair out for me to sit down at the table with my date!!! Another stranger across the communal table, handed me a napkin!!

When the pizza arrived, the entire situation became even worse as not only did I have to eat while Modestly covering my chest, I somehow managed to slam a pizza slice into the underside of my breasts while trying to get said slice from the table into my mouth!!!
I pretended to be casual about the entire thing and just brushed it off as nothing. That was until he started staring at my breasts. Almost transfixed. I was ready to give him a piece of my mind when I noticed a piece of mushroom stuck to the underside of my breast area started to slowly peel off and fall back onto the table. I was mortified and just sat there open mouthed unable to say anything other than softly muttering “I was saving that for later!!”

He wants to see me again!!!

Went on a Tinder date last night and for the first time the guy was taller than me.
Being me, I was running behind but he was totally chill about it (he is Australian!) so naturally also had me at the rather sexy accent.

So I turn up wearing my “I’m casual, but also trying to make an effort outfit” and if turns out he doesnt drink so I’m like *wtf!!*.
After I recompose myself, I decide we should go to my local for pizza and he suggests we share a pie!!!!!

Ok y’all long time followers of my life, know I don’t share food… ever!!! Like that Lady and the Tramp scene where they share the bowl of bolognese, actually gives me anxiety attacks!!! I would go feral if someone tried to suck the spaghetti out of my mouth. Feral.

So we end up sharing a pie. And I’m still hungry, but he isn’t. So we get ice cream. And it seems to be the day that everyone I know is working and wants to talk to me which either makes him feel “wow, this girl is so friendly and everyone loves talking to her”, or “this girl comes here waaaaayyyyyyyyy to much”.
I fear it was the latter!

So we chat, and chat, and chat. And he asks me some pretty deep questions, and makes me question things in certain ways. He seems genuinely interested in my life and I in his…. until (you knew this was coming dear reader didn’t you?) until he told me that he had never been to the theatre!!!

I was shook. Ive probably never been more shook about anything (apart from the time I went on a date with a pro Brexiter!!!)

So I took him to an open mic night that a friend recommended run by a drag queen. And instead of describing the entire plot of a show I had recently seen, I tell him the plots of all the shows the show tunes are from!!!

I’m Just destined to be a narrator aren’t I!!?

He wants to see me again so obviously he liked my story telling