Sunday 30 September 2007
Such a perfect day. Drink nice latte in the park. And then later, when it gets dark, we go home. Such a perfect day. See animals in the zoo. Then later, Wagamama too, and then home.
Idyllic isn't it? Which pretty much sums up my first date. Here's where it diverged from the song.
He is rubbish at planning and the trains are up the spout, so he arrives an hour and a half late. I arrive half an hour early.
Being slightly nervous, I give him a baby mountain goat I'd won on hoopla, thinking it's what every man needs.
I tell him my friends think he looks like a bullfrog but that I think he's still a really nice person.
He tells me he shared my details with his best friend and he said 'she sounds perfect for you! No offence.'
For some reason this mutual out-Bridgeting endears us to each other. We hold hands. We share a delightful kiss. We part grinning like school kids at the station. He goes home. I go to a party.
I do far to much karaoke, have a lot of tequila and end up tongue snogging about half a dozen gay boys playing spin the bottle and get home at dawn.
When I wake up, I call The Bullfrog. 'You'll never guess what I did,' I tell him.
'I snogged six men after meeting you but it was ok because they're gay so it doesn't count and I did protest a lot about how it wasn't suitable behaviour when you've just met a lovely man.'
He thinks it's sweet. He's smitten. God damn lovely fool.
