I went on my first, and possibly only, date from my speed dating adventure. I say "possibly only" because I'm feeling a bit defeated tonight. But as my mother tells me again and again, "Tomorrow is another day Scarlett." and I am perhaps the most strong willed and impatient person on this planet so who knows, I might give it another go. Why not, right? In this city of 7 million I am outnumbered and I have to utilize all my options.
So, back to Monday... We had agreed to meet for coffee after work. I mentioned in an email that I didn't know where he worked but that I am in the midtown area so I figured we could go to one of the thousand Starbucks. Keep it simple on the first date... He didn't really commit to much, just kept saying "Whatever works best for you," which is sweet but not quite what I was going for. By the time we worked out the logistics and I got in my skirt, top, cardigan and ballet flats and found that he arrived in a t-shirt, jeans and ball cap. Huh? When I queried him about it he quickly admitted that he had misled me. Turns out this guy, who I had referred to as "the Brit" (guess why...) is not "fresh off the boat" as I had originally been led to think. He's still circling the Harbor.
That is, he still lives in London and was here on "holiday".
He told me he's working on a screenplay about speed dating. Apparently, I'm fodder for his potential movie. While some people would have freaked out, it took me a while to really react. We ended up walking around the city with our tall iced teas talking awkwardly. After an hour I had to pee, was hungry, and was feeling a bit like he wasted my time. So I told him I was going to get on the subway and bid him adieu. He seemed a bit miffed and I felt a bit rude but I owed him nothing, especially since I was never going to see him again.
Back to square one...
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