Coffee?

For a first date, last night actually went rather well.

I didn't get as nervous as I usually do for some reason. This is despite my constant worry that I am going to forget what my date looks like and we will both stand feet away from each other next to the left lion in town for around 10 minutes before each deciding the other isn't going to turn up and abandonning hope. Nope, we each remembered what we looked like.

More excitingly, neither of us were disappointed with what we (well, the other of the 'we') looked like.

My date was indecisive. That's not necessarily a bad thing, until you bear in mind that I am also indecisive. I had therefore taken the lead and thrown out a smattering of ideas as to where we could eat - Italian, English, Thai, Indian, Chinese, Spanish. In fact just about every type of cuisine I could think that is cooked within the city boundary in the hope that he would make a decision. But he didn't. He didn't even narrow down the options. So we went Thai. Which was very nice, very good food.

The good thing about my date is that he was more than happy chattering away. I have said previously I can get nervous around people and a bit shy and struggle with small-talk, but not yesterday - we were able to chatter on for a good long while.

Then we went for a drink. This is always a bit of a cringe-moment for me. I know all of the gay bars in the city well, and will always know one of the bar people in any bar on any night. So, if I don't want to be introducing my new date to my friendly bar-people quite so soon, the alternative is to go straight... but then that restricts whether we can show any form of affection. Now, whilst I am not overly affective in public, it is still nice to make little moves - rubbing the knee, touching the bum, maybe flicking his hair or such like. So for that reason it makes it a little difficult to relax in straight bars on a date. Normally, if I'm not on a date, I have no problem. But on a date I have enough nerves in my body without knowing that I'm contrained with flirty motions. I would explode in a massive Tourette's seizure and probably end up in an unacceptable state. So we went to a gay bar.

Now, my date was similar to me in not indulging in flamboyant displays of emotion, however was able to relax, and again we chatted away really well for the drink. My date, though, was driving so rather defeated the point of being in a bar. As the night drew later, it got to the stage where we really either had to make a move or make a night out of it. So...

Coffee?

This is a loaded question, and one that could very easily have gone off in my face. Is 'coffee' these days still 'sex'? And if so would I be appearing too expectorant? Maybe get a slap for my troubles? Or alternatively would I get actually get some? Or does it just mean coffee? So I took the plunge and suggested we went back to mine for coffee.

And we went back.

I should point out - and following on from yesterday's post - I had the beginnings of a head-cold. I personally thought that Thai was a very good choice because I could have something hot and spicy in the hope of heading off the cold, at least for a few hours. But no, the dull ache behind my eyes had slowly but surely developed into a substantial pressure. I was trying not to let it affect the date, but it is very difficult to pay attention when you are struggling to focus. And for once not because of the booze. But he was very understanding about it.

It's not good, going back for coffee when you know you are probably infectious.

Anyhow... we started the journey back in his car. The journey is just about long enough for me to make my excuses... "The house is a project" "I'm very manly, I enjoy DIY" "It is structurally sound" "It's just the aesthetics that need working on" "Plaster on the walls is very overrated these days" etc.

Into the kitchen. "So would you like coffee, lemonade, squash, anything else?" And do you know what, the most perfect response: "Why does no-one ever offer tea?"

I love tea. I probably love this boy purely on the basis that he loves tea and would rather have tea than coffee. And it's true - why do we always say coffee? I personally, as a Brit, would always drink tea in preference to coffee. I'm not even a big fan of coffee, and yet there I was offering coffee.

My dad will be aware that I had someone over last night because I used the tea-pot and the posh mugs. Dad is currently helping me out with a couple of bits of DIY. I do it out of generousity- he seeks any excuse that he can get to have a day away from my mother.

Anyhow, we had our tea, and a lovely long chat, and a lot of kissing was done too. Quite a lot of kissing. Good kissing as well, once we found our groove. Sometimes, occasionally, your styles don't quite match and it takes a wee bit to adapt to each other's technique. He, for example, actually quite enjoys starting off mouth a bit open. I got used to that.

But then it got late, and he could tell that I was suffering with my poorliness, so we did a bit more kissing and then said goodnight.

So a very good night with no coffee. Or 'coffee'.