Londoner for a day.

Spoiler alert: this wasn’t a bad date.

Since I’ve already talked about the first two legs of my trip (London and Crete/Santorini), I figure it’s only fair to talk about the third leg (I don’t think that’s the right phrasing.  People only have two legs. But I guess if we were talking about other animals, a third/fourth leg would work, right?)

Anyway, while I was in Greece, I decided to extend my trip out a few days more and go back to London.  Honestly, no reason in particular, other than the fact that I really enjoyed my time there and wanted to go back.  I was also able to make plans with some of the people I had been talking to before, so I had some outings lined up by the time I got back into London.

I know that people love to hear the shitty details of my dates, but I honestly can’t say that about any of them from this time around.  So to preserve my modesty (what’s left of it, anyway), I think it’s best that I just talk about one in particular.

During my second time in London, I was able to make a second date with one of the men I had gone out with before (the really good date from three posts ago).  Those of you who have read my blog in the past know that I don’t often have second dates, so the prospect of a second date in London was really exciting.  Before I left Greece, we talked about different places we could go, and I mentioned that I wanted to do something that tourists wouldn’t usually do.  He told me that he would take me to an area outside the city where we could go for a walk along the Thames, and we agreed to meet outside the tube station that Saturday afternoon.

After making my way from Paddington to Richmond upon Thames (posh-sounding, eh?), I waited outside the station for a couple minutes…which happened to be just long enough to start to worry that I was at the wrong entrance.  Fortunately, just as I was about to find WiFi so I could message him (downfall of traveling without cell service), I saw him standing by the entrance.  Since we had spent the night together a couple weeks earlier, I figured it was safe to give him a “hello” kiss on the lips.  However, as I went up on tiptoe to do so, he started to say something, so I ended up pecking his open mouth (so not actually making contact with any part of his face).  Oof, awkward.  I cringe thinking about it.  It seemed like he didn’t notice/didn’t care, so we grabbed some coffee and started walking around.  After a mile and a half, we ended up at a pub on the water in Twickenham.  Because it was early afternoon on a Saturday (which also happened to be a rugby day), both the pub and the grassy area outside were pretty full, but we bought a couple pints and found a seat on the curb outside.  Between the sunny weather, the families picnicking on the lawn, and the wedding going on in a venue down the street (complete with a runaway Father of the Bride, who kept drunkenly making his way to the pub for a drink, forcing the groomsmen/ushers to come bring him back), I felt that I was getting an authentic London experience.  I also had some wonderful company, which made the whole thing even better.  After a few pints, we decided to make a dinner reservation at a restaurant close to his house and started to make our way back to a pub closer to the Tube, since we had some time to kill before the late reservation.

When we finally got on the Tube, it was packed with rugby hooligans (not really hooligans, just happy/rowdy fans).  I was glad to have someone who knew where he was going with me, because I think that had I done the trip myself, I would have been too overwhelmed at this point to make the transfer from the crowded rugby train to the crowded double-decker bus (another authentic London moment – a hen-do hopped on at at the same time we did).  Eventually we made it to the restaurant, got our table right away, and decided to do the tasting menu (which was really good).  Side note: this was the first time I’ve ever been served hummus on a rock.  Actually all the dishes were served on actual stones or stoneware dishes.  It was rather cool.  The Manor in Clapham, for anyone that is interested in trying it out.  But I digress.

During dinner we had discussed the fact that neither of us had seen the season finale of Game of Thrones (I actually hadn’t seen the last three while I was on holiday, because HBOGO doesn’t work overseas ).  He assured me that the first episode I missed wasn’t anything special, and went over as much of the plot as he could remember.  He also said the second to last episode was really good and agreed to rewatch it with me before watching the finale together.  So we caught a cab back to his place.

At this point, it was getting a bit late, but we ended up watching the last two episodes.  As much as I enjoy GOT and was already running the risk of encountering a spoiler or two on Facebook, I was a bit frustrated that I agreed to watch them.  I honestly just wanted to make out with him.  The last time we did, he was really good and I was getting a bit anxious to do it again.  As the final credits were rolling on the last episode, I finally got what I wanted.  Things progressed and, out of respect, I’m not going to go into any details.  Just know that if WordPress allowed me to do emojis, I would be putting two thumbs up right here.

The next morning, we had some coffee and chatted about interior design (he just redid his home), before he drove me to the Tube station.  Despite the fact that this was the first day I encountered rain in London, I was feeling really happy with how things went and over the next day, we chatted back and forth a bit.  There are a couple factors that aren’t promising here (he recently got out of a relationship and isn’t looking for anything serious, and also, oh, 3000 miles or so), but this was actually someone I really enjoyed hanging out with.  And because I’m slightly masochistic, I did end up telling him that.  He’s been nice about it, and we have kept in touch since I got home.

So, I pride myself on being really good at dates.  I think for the most part, I can hold a conversation (if the person also makes an effort) and I’ve been told I can be charming and engaging (if you doubt me, please go back and reread the post one of my dates wrote).  But I’m realizing that I’m shit at the in-between dates stuff.  Usually, this is where I get too into my own head and start second-guessing the things I did/said/etc.  I’m going to have to start being more cognizant about this in the future, lest I scare away any good prospects.

I have also learned from this encounter that there actually ARE some good guys out there.  He really was the epitome of a British gentleman, and I’m really glad I met him.

Sorry to all that were hoping for more humor or scandal.  Not all dates necessitate that.