The first date mixup...

Yesterday evening I went on a date. Why would this possibly be blog-worthy? People 'date' all the time! Well, I haven't been on a real date in a long time.
The last date I can remember going on was some time in the middle of last year, well over six months ago. I recall it not being very memorable, pretty hard work conversation-wise and needless to say I chose not to pursue that particular female thereafter.
Such is the story of many of my previous dates - a single date with absolutely no connection on a physical or mental level, resulting in a complete lack of interest and me ultimately going about my business.
Admittedly, I'm a difficult guy to please. I'm picky, but we don't get many shots at happiness so I feel that I'm allowed to be.

We'd spent a couple of weeks chatting via Facebook messages and texts, and we'd finally gotten around to the mutual agreement of partaking in a date. She'd told me when she was free, so naturally I chose the earliest possible date I could. I wanted to seem keen (because quite frankly I was) but at the same time I hoped that it didn't come across as over-keen. I took the gamble anyway and she agreed to meet me for dinner and a movie.

I was nervous. Oh, so nervous. Me - nervous? What? The guy who eats interviewers for breakfast? The guy that's always the life and soul of the party? The guy who's always the Chief and never the Indian? The loud-mouthed, confident, alpha male that is Adam Jones, nervous? Pull the other one… But I was. And incredibly so, for a full two days prior. Every time I thought about her, the date, or a combination of the two I'd get that kick, that rush of adrenaline akin to butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. This isn't normal… Women don't make me nervous. They never have. What's going on here? Pull it together, Jones.

We'd discussed the venue for dinner with Frankie & Bennies and Chiquito's getting a mention, but knowing it was a little more up-market I'd booked a table at Bellagio's for 8pm. The movie began at 9.50pm. I was ready with plenty of time to spare and off I went, my nerves still as mad as a box of frogs. I hadn't shaved though, because I remember her saying she likes a man with a beard.

I wasn't sure whether she knew it, but it was World Book Day 2013 and I'd taken the liberty of purchasing her a small gift in the form of a Terry Pratchett novel. She'd previously said she'd never picked up a Pratchett book after I'd mentioned he was one of my favourite authors and it seemed like a nice gesture given the circumstances so I went with it. I'd also included a little something else which I'd hoped would steal her heart, but that remained to be seen. And no, I'm not telling you what it was - you wouldn't understand anyway!

I rocked up at Bellagio's at 7.40pm. I was early. Excellent. If I'm not picking a girl up (as was the case on this occasion) I like to make a point of being there before she arrives because I think it's rude to keep a lady waiting.
I propped myself up at the bar and ordered a pint of Peroni. I'd not had an alcoholic drink in months but I needed it to calm my nerves a little. I'd sent her a text to ask her what she wanted to drink so that I could have it waiting for her upon her arrival, and I sat reading the drinks menu waiting patiently for her to stroll in, her drink sat alongside mine on the bar.

It was just after 8pm when she text me, and I was a little confused by the content of said text upon receipt. She was accusing me of being late. Wait, what? I've been sat here for nearly half an hour, what's going on here? I promptly replied to that effect only to be told that she was sat in Frankie & Bennies waiting for me. We weren't in the same place. Disaster.

During the discussion about where we were to go for dinner, she'd expressed that she felt Bellagio's was a little outside of her comfort zone as far as the cuisine was concerned, pointing out that the pictures on the website 'looked like the food was still alive' and she'd have opted for Frankie & Bennies given the choice. She was of course referring to the lobster, and it was very much dead. I'd assured her that much like Frankie & Bennies it was Italian, she'd said she liked Italian food and I concluded that I'd convinced her to give it a go. It seems I hadn't. We'd misunderstood one another and were now sat in completely different restaurants. Fantastic start.

Not wanting to leave Frankie & Bennies and look like she'd been stood up, she asked if I'd come to her and we'd eat there instead. I of course obliged, leaving the drink I'd had waiting for her on the bar, grabbing my coat and heading to her. Fortunately the restaurants aren't a great distance apart as they're within the same entertainment complex, but it was more the embarrassment of the situation than the inconvenience of it that was manifesting at this point.

First date, we haven't even done the meet and greet and I've made a hash of it already. Well done, Jones. You have a genius-level IQ but can't even properly establish a basic plan for an evening's activities. It's not difficult... Moron. Oh well, sod it, things can only get better from here, surely? And into Frankie & Bennies I walked.

Sure enough there she sat, at the bar with drink in hand, distracted from the room by a movie that was playing on the TV behind the bar. I approached, gave her a hug, kissed her on the right cheek and remarked about the situation in an attempt to break any tension that may be lingering due to the mix-up. Fortunately a bit of warm, light-hearted banter ensued about the predicament which served to break the ice, which was a relief. It seems the mix-up may not have been such a bad thing after all… I asked to be seated, and we were immediately ushered to our seats.

She looked beautiful and I had to tell her. I think I may have told her two or three times throughout the evening now that I think about it, let's just hope it didn't come across a bit on the creepy side.
By her own admission she's cripplingly shy, so I was expecting to have to lead the way for most of the evening where the conversation was concerned. To my delight this was not the case at all. Conversation flowed freely back and forth and I found myself so lost in the initial exchange that I hadn't even picked up a menu by the time the waitress asked us to order.

We'd agreed to skip starters and go for a main then a dessert. She ordered chicken carbonara and I ordered steak - rare, of course. It didn't take long to come at all. Well, it might have, but I was so lost in conversation that frankly I'd forgotten we'd even ordered.

We didn't even get round to dessert. We'd sat chatting for so long after finishing our main meals that when the waitress came back to finally take our orders (we'd shooed her away 2-3 times already) we realised that it was 9.40pm and we were going to be late for the movie if we didn't leave. Where did that time go?
I ordered the bill, naturally refusing to let her contribute towards it (first date rules) and we headed to the cinema.

The 'first date interview' had continued all evening, with everything from past partners, work life, social life, friends, interests and everything in-between discussed. As the evening had progressed, I'd found that there was nothing about her I disliked."Really, Jones?" My subconscious said. "You really can't pick faults here? You know what that means, don't you?" Alarm bells were ringing, it seemed I may have found a good one, and subconscious Jones knew it.

When the date was over, I ordered a taxi home which for once turned up almost immediately and we headed back, still chatting the whole way. She revealed that out of the handfuls of guys she'd had ask her out she'd only accepted 4 of the invites, and she'd never been on a second date with any of them. This girl sounds like me, only much prettier and with boobies - I chuckled to myself. Was she setting me up for a fall or was this the pretence to me having done enough to take her fancy?

The taxi came to a stop outside her house, I have her a hug, kissed her cheek once more and off she went. I didn't blame her for not hanging around, it was raining. I made sure she got in ok and headed back.

I arrived home, a smile on my face, confident I'd been sufficiently impressive to have won her over. I waited for it. The text. I knew it was coming. There was no way she wouldn't text me and thank me for the evening, she was too polite not to, and I'd given her an unexpected gift after all. I'd instructed her not to open it until she got home, so she didn't actually know what it was during the course of the evening.
It came. The text. And it was everything I wanted to hear. She'd had a wonderful evening, was still smiling about my present, and even suggested a 2nd date.
Nice one, Jones. You did good.

My problem now is that when I laid out my budget for the month, I allocated a vast lump sum of my luxury money to my hobby, having no idea I'd meet an attractive, smart, funny, and quite frankly pretty darn awesome individual who'd for some strange reason want to spend time with me. This leaves me at somewhat of a loss, in the unenviable position of having no disposable income left to play with.

Unfortunately I don't pick up my next pay cheque until March 22nd. Here's hoping she's prepared to wait the couple of weeks it'll be until I get paid, safe in the knowledge that next month my hobby won't be quite so high on my list of priorities. Between now and then, we can hopefully agree on a low cost alternative, because if truth be told I don't want to risk someone else claiming her in the mean time...