Mr Nice Guy - Part 2

I arrive at the train station but have a bit of a walk to get to the cafe bar where we are meeting. It is a beautiful day, as I text her to say that I’m running a few minutes late. My phone beeps as I hurriedly walk.

"No worries, I’m enjoying the sunshine on the green opposite the cafe. See you soon"

I relax and slow up a bit. It’s sunny and warm and probably the last weekend of the year when it will be so, and I don’t want to be sweating when I arrive.

Finally I arrive at the green. I know what she looks like, but look in all directions at once to try and ensure that I haven’t missed her. I look down at one of the benches and see petite pretty brunette wearing sunglasses and reading a book - it’s her. She looks up at me with a smile “Hello”. Immediately I am filled with a greater expectation than I did with the turnip girl with the Ronnie Corbett specs from the night before.

We walk to the cafe and sit outside, ordering coffees and croissants. She is sweet and interesting and quite fun, if a little reserved, which is only natural, considering we are relative strangers. We talk about where she’s from and what she does and she asks questions about me. We discuss food and note that we both get bad food envy and we could both be better cooks than we are.

After a couple of hours I steal a glance at my watch. It’s 3 pm and I’m seeing date number three in two hours. She sees me check the time. “Oh, do you have to be somewhere?” she asks. “No, it’s ok. I’m just meeting a mate for a coffee a bit later.” We talk some more, and after another fifteen minutes or so she checks her watch. “I hate to do this, but I wasn’t checking the time and I’m meeting a friend.” Damn it, why didn’t I say I had to leave fifteen minutes ago!? “That’s cool, I’ve got to meet my friend anyway.” She smiles, “Thanks” and we leave and walk together in the same direction, talking more as we do. I kiss her on both cheeks at the station and tell her it’s been fun and that I’ll call her, and I mean it too.

I have an hour and a half before I have to meet the next girl and I need to head home and change. I am going out after the date and so I need to be dressed accordingly. As per usual, I can’t find any of the things that I want to wear and end up ironing two different shirts that I’m having trouble choosing between. It’s ok though because I’ve still got time. My phone beeps:

“Hey, I am early. Are you able to meet sooner?”

Typical - I have enough trouble just being on time, without girls turning up early. Or is this a hoop that some use to test guys and see if we’ll jump through? I’m seeing other friends later and I want to get ready and get to her feeling chilled and relaxed. If she’s early, then she’s early and she’ll just have to wait. I text her back:

“I’m just saying goodbye to a friend at the moment. See you at 5”

I arrive at the bar on time and see her drinking a beer and looking out of the window. She sees me and smiles a big smile. And she’s good looking – much prettier than in her pictures. And she’s fun too and I enjoy the time with her as we cover a range of subjects. I have only intended to stay a couple of hours because I have somewhere else to go and also because in the back of my mind I hadn’t expected a lot from this date. But now I am on it, I find that I am quite enjoying it. So much so, that when it gets to the end of the two hours that I had originally envisaged, I want to carry on. I haven’t eaten since the croissant earlier in the day and I am hungry. I will need to eat before I go onto the where I am going to later. I should just leave now and grab something to eat en route. That would be sensible, that’s what G2 would suggest. But maybe if I ate something at the Cafe Rouge next door and took this girl with me, then maybe, seeing as I like her, I could get to know her better. And this is what we do.

The dinner is pleasant and the conversation fun – up to a point. We’ve been out for twice as long as I’d envisaged. The gap between conversations gets longer and the wine ensures that subject matter is more open that it probably should be on a first date. I check my watch and realise that I am going to be late. I pay the bill and we leave. I’m about to say goodbye, when she smiles and says “Would you like to walk me across the bridge?” “Of course” I say with a smile – well I can’t say “No” can I.

Her hands are in her pockets as we walk and talk. ‘Is she interested?’ I wonder. I mean she’s asked if I’d like to walk her across the bridge, which is surely an indicator of interest. Then again though, her hands are firmly in her pockets and if she was interested, then she’d take my arm – wouldn’t she?

We pause at the end of the bridge and engage in chit chat. We are talking closely and I’m wondering if I should kiss her. ‘Should I or shouldn’t I?’ I umm and ahh in my mind as we talk. “I suppose, I’d better get going” I say before moving closer kiss her. My lips more are less than an inch from hers as she turns her face and offers me her cheek. The movement feels like the physical version of the “let’s just be friends conversation”. “Nice to meet you” she says. “Likewise” I say, frustrated at myself a number of reasons. I should have left on a high, after drinks. Now it feels like it has gone flat and I am late to meet friends.

Onwards and upwards though. There is something to be taken from this as I go into date number four tomorrow. Right now though, it’s 9.30pm on a Saturday night – I have a party to get to!!