This week the lovely man left for America, so in a frankly pitiful attempt to take my mind/heart/soul off of him I went back to Tinder, which kind of felt like taking a job in Sports Direct when you used to manage a football club.
So my first foray back in to dating and it lasts a total of 32 minutes and ends with the most alarming text message I’ve ever received.
We meet at the tube station after he declined my suggestion to meet at a pub, and he asks if we can go for a coffee as he’s not drinking.
“Sure” I say, “there’s a lovely independent coffee place over the road.”
“Nah, there’s a Costa just here. Saves crossing” he replied.
Like seriously? I put on eyeliner for this and now I’m in a Costa bloody Coffee.
After 25 minutes of ‘normal’ conversation we have the following exchange:
Him: “Have you had dinner yet?"
Me: "No I came straight from work."
Him: "What would you say if I offered to cook you dinner?"
Him: "I only ask because I’ve got an Ocado delivery coming tonight."
Me: "I’d have to say no. I couldn’t possibly go back to the home of someone I’ve literally just met, sorry."
Him (talking over me): "lots of nice fresh vegetables and good fish."
Him: "OK well I’d better go. Need to be home for the delivery."
The birth of #OcadoAndChill
So we walk back to the station, say our goodbye’s, then this happens:
Yes you do decide yourself what to do with your money, and last night you decided to spend it on a coffee. I don’t come with a money back guarantee. Dates aren’t commodities.
I actually felt angry, because as you’ll know if you read this blog often, I am a massively big believer in women always offering to pay for dates.
His response is just beyond me!
UPDATE: What happened next.
romaincrisis
ellievsbear
snowghoul
2087
dailybridgerton
jbbartram-illu
