First Date

I don't know why I do it to myself, really I don't.

I have already identified back in May that I am incompatible with relationships. Why I am such a glutton for punishment that I should therefore willingly submit myself to a first date is utterly unbelieveable. I really am a fool. But so it is that tonight I have a date. And not just a date, a first date.

There are two reasons why I have committed to this. Firstly, I do actually quite fancy the chap. I have had my eye on him for quite a while; and then a couple of weekends ago I woke up with him naked in bed next to me. Result.

The other is that the naked-next-to-me incident was the culmination of a rather whorey weekend. It is not rare for me to wake up naked next to people. In fact it occurs on a scarily frequent basis - usually at least once a month. That particular weekend it happened twice. On the Friday I woke up with someone who had, until just a few hours previously, been a virgin. Ooops.

It is not something that I should be proud of, and I'm not going to repeat thisblog
But I rather felt that, in order to justify the sex, certainly on the second night, I should probably try and make a go of it.

I would love to be able to say that I amazed and entertained with my witty banter in a cocktail bar or that my knowledge or intellect was sufficient to secure the date; or even that my technological flirtations on the internet accompanied by suitably spurious photo had convinced the poor sod to meet me, but no - it was one of my usual nightclub-wonders.

Quite how we ended up in bed naked with each other is still somewhat a mystery to me. It is another of my quirks. I never have known how it happens. And it is not because I am too inebreated to remember what happens. I fully remembered being in the nightclub - I always do - but the next point which my recollection avails is being conveyed in a carriage of convenience back to my humble abode. And believe me, it is humble. No, there exists a permanent lacuna in respect of any nightclub acquisition.

Perhaps there is a reason - some form of natural protection which prevents me divulging my secrets. Maybe I have a particular way to look at people, a knowing nod or glance. Maybe I say a succinct, poetically indulgent form of words which instantly wins people over like a spell. Maybe I just fall on top of them and they are happy at that. Whatever it is, some cruel twist of fate means that I forget. It may be that my methods are so successful they simply cannot be disseminated to the public at large, otherwise the whole foundation of relationships, natural selection and evolution will be destroyed in a wild abandon of sexual hedonism. Or maybe, if I were to understand how it happens, the spell would be broken and I would be forever incapable of nightclub-copulation. And if that happens, then I am doomed.

In terms of my longest relationship, this was equally true. Throughout the relationship I had to be reminded quite how we met - my ex telling a slightly different story each time, depending on his mood. I'm still not entirely sure it was true.

So, tonight I have first date. And it's not a good thing. I get nervous. I'm not a confident person at the best of times - I'm very self-deprecating and really don't have a good perception of myself. I always imagine that - if my date even turns up - I will be met with some comment along the lines of "Oh, you're not how I remember" or, worse still "Oh, you're not who I remember".

So I get very worked up. And it's one thing having bedroom conversation or even morning conversation, but actual social conversation is a whole different matter. Maybe we won't relax, cohease with ease. Maybe we will have to spend hours, minutes in silence whilst we eat. First date is crucial; even despite having already had your willy up their bum. Hence why I get nervous.

Tonight is dinner and cinema. That seems almost to be combining two dates into one. Surely it should be either dinner or cinema? Cinema is good for a first date - you get time for polite conversation; get an insight into their psyche and your compatibility depending on which film you each choose; and have the option - if it all goes well - to extend it with a post-film drink. Dinner is full-on focus on conversation and on the two of you. Possibly the best first date I ever picked was to a stand-up comedy club. You barely get any time to talk, yet still get a full analysis of their sense of humour. Just don't get sat near the front where you can get picked on.

On a final note, I am rather annoyed that this is the second time I have had to write this. I got half-way through on the train, but the buggy Blogger app then decided to force close on me, losing a considerably better first draft.