And a good one at that. Suffice to say I’m smiling ear-to-ear right about now. So here’s what happened. I left my flat waaaaay later than I should’ve for someone who’s never been to Notting Hill before, and only just learning how long it takes to get anywhere from Way-the-F-Wapping via public transport. It actually is quite like living in the West Village and going to the UES. (The horror!) That said, I sorta have a thing with being late anyway. And by “thing” I mean, I’m just always late. It’s not a great habit, I know. Luckily, I’m also “new in town” and according to CTG, I’m also “cute,” so I got a pass. And how’s this for awesome: Texts work on the tube! So as I was waiting for the damn Circle Line at Tower Hill I could text him that I was running late. And then I could text him again a few stops later that I was still running late…
Upon arriving at the “posh” side of town, he gave me a hug and said I looked nice, which made me smile. (For those at all curious, I was wearing skinny jeans, that Zara top with the faux leather sleeves I’ve been wearing all season, my black blazer with the faux leather collar, a necklace, and my Michael Jackson sequin flats — !) He cleaned up pretty well, too. I dug his style, which is to say he actually has some, contrary to most American guys whose sexuality isn’t questionable. You could tell we were both nervous as we were jumping from topic to topic pretty quickly. But once we finally settled at the pub (called The Churchill, which I told him was funny cause my going away party in NYC was also called The Churchill), conversation just kept flowing. Like, one of those dates (he had clarified that yes, in fact, this was a date) where you can’t remember what you started talking about cause now you’re talking about something completely different.
By 11:30, we reached that point where we either have to move elsewhere or go home. Since he lives west and I live east, and cabs are freakin’ so expensive (like 30POUNDS/$50 for a 15 minute ride), we decided to call it night. But several times prior there was talk of what we’ll do/see/eat try another time. We settled on Monday. I also told him about the blog, so there’s a very good chance he’s reading this right now… He’s keen on it, so that’s good. But I don’t want to spill too much on here. Some things are better left unwritten, yeah? (Not that I’m leaving much juice out. He was completely proper, which he’s well aware will make me like him even more. Sly fox, he is!) Oh, and he’s nicknamed me: Full English Breakfast Girl. #pinchme
Off to get the Sunday papers and a coffee. Then brunch and Liberty!
PS. It’s snowing.