Lucy has a date with Daniel, who does the same job as her. Lucy likes Daniel because in his photos he looks like David Tennant. Not that Lucy is shallow or anything.
Daniel is divorced, and this is his first ever online date. Lucy’s determined to be so impressively witty and gorgeous that this will be not only Daniel’s first internet date, but also his last.
She arrives at the bar moments before Daniel, and is still scanning the room to see if he’s there when he walks in, wearing jeans and a pale blue shirt.
She does the instant, 2-second judge. Looks like his photos? Thankfully, yes. Does he look like David Tennant? Not so much, but still handsome. Height? As predicted, short, no more than an inch taller than her. Does she fancy him? Not on first sight, no.
They order cocktails and squeeze onto bar stools at a corner table. Lucy’s stool is wedged tightly between the table and the wall. She has to breathe in tight just to get in, and once in, she really hopes she’s not going to get stuck. That’d be altogether too embarrassing for a first date.
Daniel is chatty, and shoots questions at her like it’s the quick fire round of a gameshow. Lucy would like to ask one back, but doesn’t seem to get the chance. Still, at least there are no awkward silences. Lucy always feels the need to fill silences and invariably ends up saying something stupid.
Daniel fills her in on his weekend. He went to a stag do.
“I had to arrange it all,” he tells her. “I always seem to end up being the one in charge because I’m really organised.”
Lucy, who alphabetises her DVDs and colour codes her knicker drawer, thinks she might be in love. In spite of his height.
“I haven’t been on a hen do in ages because all my friends are already married,” she tells him. “Though I guess they’ll be moving on to the divorces soon, and then we’ll be on to round two.”
Daniel looks uncomfortable. Shit, she forgot he’s divorced.
To lighten the mood, she tells him about the last hen party she went to. “It was in someone’s flat,” she recounts. “There was a stripper. It was pretty awkward. I’ve never seen a real, full-on stripper before.”
“Did you see an erect penis?” Daniel asks.
Lucy is quite shocked that they are only 15 minutes into the date and Daniel has already said the word ‘penis’.
She tells him the penis in question was not erect. But it was pretty big and the stripper did swing it around and grind up against the bride.
Daniel looks concerned. Lucy hopes he doesn’t think she’s into that sort of thing.
Now the subject has moved onto penises, it’s hard to talk about anything else.
“Once, at a house party, a stranger touched my cock,” he tells her.
“How does that happen?” Lucy queries.
“I was staying in the house with an ex-girlfriend. During the party we went back to our room to have sex. We were getting down to business when this random guy walked in and put his hand on my cock. I think he wanted to join in.”
Lucy wonders if this is Daniel’s way of suggesting a threesome. Just in case he’s about to get any ideas, she tells him she’s never had one and has no intention of trying.
“But I have been in the room when other people have been having sex,” she adds. Doesn’t want Daniel to think she’s a prude.
He looks intrigued.
“It was in a youth hostel in Colombia. I was in a shared dorm and a couple started having sex in the middle of the night. I had to listen to the whole thing.”
Nice to get Colombia in, she thinks. Now he knows I’m adventurous and well-travelled. But also not a pervert.
The date seems to be going well. They’ve had three cocktails. Daniel suggests going to get some food, so they head for a Japanese place round the corner.
As they walk in, a waiter passes with some delicious-looking meat skewers.
“Yum,” says Lucy.
Daniel drops a bombshell. “I’m a vegetarian,” he confesses.
Lucy wants to cry.
They order boring vegetarian food, and wine. Daniel offers to pay for the meal.
Too bloody right, thinks Lucy. Forcing me to eat cardboard.
If we have a second date, she wonders, next time can I force him to eat meat? Seems only fair.
Outside the restaurant, they say goodbye. In spite of the vegetarian bombshell Daniel has been good company and Lucy has had a good time.
“Look, it’s 11 pm,” she points out. “That never happens.”
“Why,” he asks. “What time do you normally stay out till?”
“I try to stay for 2 drinks out of politeness. But a couple of times it’s been so bad I’ve left after just one.”
Lucy hopes Daniel realises how lucky he’s been to meet her on his first ever online date.
“It’s not going to get better than this for him,” she thinks. “He’s going to get a nasty shock when he carries on and finds out what Tinder girls are really like.
Lucy feels sad for Daniel, what with all the twattish behaviour he’s got coming his way.
Daniel tells her he would like to see her again. She wonders if he will try to kiss her.
But he doesn’t.
Lucy is disappointed. Just because she doesn’t fancy him all that much doesn’t mean a snog wouldn’t have been nice.
(To be continued…?)
UPDATE: It wasn’t. Lucy didn’t hear from Daniel for 10 days after the date, and eventually she messaged him. They arranged to meet again, but the day before the second date Daniel cancelled, blaming work commitments. They haven’t communicated since. Lucy is fully expecting to bump into him again at some point through work… which could be awkward…
FURTHER UPDATE: As predicted, about two months later an email was circulated around Lucy’s office welcoming the week’s new joiners. Among them… was Daniel. In fact he wasn’t just joining her office, he was joining her team. Lucy spent the day in a state of high anxiety about running into him, but he was working on a different floor of the building, so she didn’t see him. A couple of days later, fed up with not knowing, she found an excuse to send an email to the entire team, and Daniel replied to her saying hello. But that was IT. They worked on the same fucking team for OVER A MONTH, and NOT ONCE did he come down to say hi, or contact her again. Lucy has now left that job, and good fucking riddance to cunting Daniel.