The First Date

Here’s the story you’ve all been waiting for. Before you get too excited, we haven’t kissed yet. It’s only a matter of time. Don’t worry. I predict that sometime in the very near future, you will be reading all about it.

But before we get too far ahead of ourselves, I need to tell you about our first date. The original plan had been for him to take the train out here to Reading. I had grand plans for what we could do, but the plan changed. Crocodile Dundee texted me that the Notting Hill Carnival was on Monday. It sounded amazing and I love London anyway. It sounded like it could be a good first date. So I decided that we could do Reading any old time, but the carnival is only once a year. The plan was hatched, then, that I would go to London Monday morning and we’d go to the Carnival. I was pretty nervous to actually meet him, but also really excited. I was, possibly, overly concerned with what to wear, but let’s be honest, it was pretty important to look hot. Thanks to the advice of friends and family, I chose an outfit that I feel turned out to be a smashing success.

So I arrived at Paddington Station and nearly chickened out when I saw him. I was glad that I saw him before he saw me, so I had a chance to collect myself before speaking to him. He had told me what he was wearing so I could spot him. When I saw him, I was a bit taken aback. He had a long, bleach-blond ponytail. He was wearing a sky blue baseball cap, a green and yellow Australia rugby jersey, and motorcycle boots. Definitely different than what I’m used to. He also wore aviator style sunglasses and headphones. Anyway, he walked past me and I stopped him. He gave me a hug and I was okay with that. I felt very comfortable right away, which was good. He was very friendly and conversational. I found it easy to talk to him and he has an easy laugh. It didn’t take long for me to realize that we were going to have a good time together. Also, he was a perfect gentleman and paid me back for my train ticket. Well played, sir.

After purchasing a tube pass, we headed for Notting Hill. For those of you haven’t been there, it’s not quite like it is in the movie. Portobello Road runs through the area and is still known for selling anything and everything a chap can unload. It’s a quirky neighborhood and quite full of life. The Carnival is put on by the Caribbeans who live in the area. It has to be said, those people know how to party. I thought Mormons threw a good party, but we’ve got nothing on the Jamaicans. The streets were alive with the sounds of reggae, the smells of jerk chicken, and the sights of colorfully dressed people. We wandered the streets soaking in the sights and sounds. After a little perusing, we decided we couldn’t resist any longer and decided to get something to eat. We took our food and sat on the steps of some house and ate. It was nice to sit for a bit and have the chance to chat.

We finished eating and then decided to try to find the parade. It was like no other parade I’ve ever seen. My parade experience consists of the 24^th of July parade in Mapleton where each ward gets to do a float and the highlight is the riding mower club. This parade, however, had steel drum bands, busty women in sparkly costumes, and people madly dancing. We stood and watched the parade for a while and it was awesome. It was really the perfect thing to do for a first date. There was plenty to see and do just in case there was an awkward pause in the conversation, not that there was, but just in case. It was also loud enough that we had to get close to hear each other.

Eventually we decided to walk back to the tube station and head out. The streets were packed and so naturally, I had to hold onto his arm or put my hand on his back so I didn’t get left behind. I don’t think he minded. It was the perfect excuse to initiate a little bit of contact. We made it back to Paddington and decided to get a McFlurry while we waited for my train. It was nice to have a bit more time to just chat. We have a lot in common so it makes it easy to chat. Then came the awkward point at which we had to refer to another date without knowing if the other person wanted one. I bit the bullet and suggested that he come out this weekend and he said he’d like to. We left it that he’d let me know, but that he’d like to come. So now I’m waiting to hear from him. He’ll call. I’m sure of it. And I want him to. I had a good time and I feel like we’d have fun together. I don’t know that it’s a definite love match, but I’m willing to give it a shot.