Two different views of the same event
I chose this café as a place to meet because of the reviews. One has to be so careful these days, people have many weird food fads. The Blue Buddha caters for vegans, vegetarians and the gluten intolerant. Apparently it’s the place to be, up there in the top ten. I’m sure she’s already googled the place, probably looking for a clue as to the sort of man I am. This search for a life partner is tricky to navigate, there are so many pitfalls.
My success rate so far, I have to admit, has not been great, which I don’t put down to anything I did or didn’t do. The trouble with most of the women is that they are seeking a dream, not a reality.
Anyway, here we go, she’s coming in through the door.
A great start. At least she looks like her picture. Some of my previous ladies bore no resemblance to their profile photos. She’s good on the eye, not bad for a fifty-year-old.
I like the perfume she’s wearing; it reminds me of my dear departed mother. God bless her soul.
We shake hands, lovely long fingers. I kiss her on the cheek and ask her what she would like to order.
She says she will just have coffee, she’s not hungry yet.
We’ve been chatting for over fifty minutes, I’ve told her about my job, she seems keenly interested, although most find my job at the factory boring. Which I suppose it is really, quality control can be tedious, but it takes a sharp eye. She seems to appreciate that.
When I spoke about my mother, her eyes got teary. She appeared to be sympathetic, realising I suppose that to lose a dear mother, with whom I have always lived, must have been such a shock.
We talked about my hobbies, stamp collecting and train spotting. She asked really intelligent questions about the spotting, enquiring about the friends I go with and what sort of people they were.
Yes, really interested she was. I talked about my cat. She must be an animal lover because she sighed when I spoke about Tiddles. I suggested she came over to my house right away to meet him and she said she’d love to but at some other time. That means she intends to see me again, I suppose.
I think this first meeting has been a huge success, it’s so nice to meet someone who listens and doesn’t just talk about themselves.
I was apprehensive this morning as I dressed carefully. It is so important to not appear as if one is trying too hard.
The Blue Buddha café is the place to go to these days. The reviews are wonderful. This guy must be someone who has his finger on the pulse.
I’ve been lonely since my husband died, but friends and family are telling me it’s time I got back on the horse, so to speak, and find a new man.
This is my first foray into meeting prospective partners on line, and already I feel like backing out. Maybe I could call him to say that I can't make it, but that would be rude.
I find the place easily. As I expected, it’s very busy. I look around at the clientele; they are mostly young and vibrant. I'm feeling good about my decision. Maybe he'll be the man of my dreams.
He’s waving to me, it must be him, but he looks years older than his profile picture. Oh, no, he’s wearing a toupee. Isn’t he?
He shakes my hand, his grip is like holding a wet fish, he kisses my cheek; I have to hold my breath. What has he been eating?
He suggests lunch; I don’t want to appear impolite, but I have no intention of remaining any longer than is necessary. I tell him I’m not hungry and suggest we just have coffee.
I glance surreptitiously at my watch. This is an hour of my life I’ll never get back. My jaw is aching from trying to smile at his ghastly jokes. If he mentions ‘Mother’ one more time, I will scream.
My phone rings, it’s my friend Mary calling. We’d pre-arranged her call.
I apologise profusely, squeezing past the tables on my way to the ‘emergency’.
Once outside, I take a big breath, and go in search of some retail therapy.