The Date

Music:  Sexy Boy - Air

I feel surprisingly nervous as I get changed for my first date with Craig in Nicola’s spare room.  In an effort to stop my entire body from shaking I down a couple of shots of sambuca to calm myself down before my taxi arrives. Hmm, not sensible.

I can’t believe I feel so petrified. I’ve dated before, so why am I so worried? On the advice of my friends I’ve decided to wear a sexy semi-sheer black shirt, indigo skinny jeans and heels. I think it’s an outfit that isn’t overtly “Come and get me” but ticks the all the right boxes: it shows off my legs and the little cleavage that I have without being too revealing. Well, that is the plan anyway.

My taxi into town arrives ten minutes early, which is annoying as of course it means that I end up arriving in town ten minutes before I should. I don’t want to be the first one there and have to stand outside waiting like a total loser, so instead I wait around the corner and busy myself by calling my Mum.

Yes, that’s right. I’m about to go on a date with a man who I fully intend on shagging in less than six hours time, and there I am making small talk with my Mum. With everything that is going on with my Grandma's illness, the comedy value that is my love life is the only thing that seems to cheer my Mum up at the moment. She is so excited about my first proper date since my ex, especially as she never liked him.  At all. If only I had listened to her back then.

Whilst I’m chatting away to my Mum I see the figure of a man who I vaguely recognise walking towards me. Happily, the flashback snapshot images that I captured of Craig in my mind finally click into focus. It’s him, it’s definitely him. And he is very, very sexy.

I have to get rid of my Mum immediately. She is still babbling on at the other end of the phone, bless her.

“Have a lovely time!” she says again. “I hope your date goes well. Have a great time...”

“OK. OK Mum, I will”

“Don’t get too drunk now...”

“Yes Mum.”

“Enjoy yourself!”

“I will Mum. I’ve gotta go..”

“Spea..”

And much to my shame, I cut her off, just as Craig walks up to me.

“Hi,” he says, smiling broadly. “So you’re early too!”

I am so relieved, as he is not only good looking, he isn’t ginger and he does bear a passing resemblance to sexy rugby playing God Brian O’Driscoll.

Result.

“Only by a minute,” I reply casually. “For once my taxi arrived early.”

“Shall we go inside?” he suggests, to which I smile and follow him around to the bar’s entrance.

In the sober light of early evening Craig is looking good, and I mentally pat myself on the back for an excellent effort. Craig’s shoulders are broad and his arms look great under his jumper. In fact, come to mention it I think he is wearing the same outfit as he did on the night we met.

I’m sure he’s washed it in the meantime though. I hope.

Either way, he is pretty God damn sexy.

As it is quite early we manage to grab ourselves a table, which I am pleased about as I don’t know how long I would be able to stand up in my towering heels. Being a gentleman Craig insists on buying all my drinks but I refuse, as fair’s fair, and after all I plan on using and abusing him later. We chat really easily on a whole load of topics, from the usual suspects of sport and films to where we wanted to travel to and about ourselves in general.

“You know, I don’t actually come out to Preston very often,” Craig says as we sip our third drinks of the evening. “When we met I was out celebrating my birthday.”

“Oh really?” I reply, sounding surprised.

Shit. Did he tell me it was his birthday the other weekend? I was so drunk I can’t remember anything.

“I’m sure I told you that the other Saturday?” he says.

Bollocks.

Craig shrugs.

“Maybe not. After all, I don’t think we actually talked that much,” he continues, with a cheeky smile playing across his lips.

I smile, and find myself batting my eyelashes at him as I look away coyly. What the hell am I doing? Fluttering my eyelashes?

“You really made my night,” he continues.

Well that’s it. Now you’ve just made me blush.

He’s either being a bit of a sweetie or he is a total charmer, and right then I couldn’t decide which one it was.

Craig then goes on to reveal that he managed (more successfully than my friend Nicola) to take a sneaky photo of me.

“Here it is!” he laughs, as he hands his phone over to me so I can take a look.

It is absolutely horrendous. And I mean awful. I am drunk, my hair is all over the place and I look like I’m singing. Badly.

“Oh my God, that is so embarrassingly awful,” I say to him. “Please delete it!”

Craig just sits and laughs as I squirm. But it is as nice laugh. He’s not laughing at me, he’s laughing with me.  (I think).

“I can’t believe you actually wanted to see me again if you thought I looked like that!” I cringe.
“Please delete it!”

I’m practically begging him. This is so embarrassing. I’ve seen zombies in low budget horror films that look better than I do in that hideous photograph.

It is all very good humoured banter and we are getting on great, especially when Craig finally stops teasing me and deletes the photo.

Through our conversation I find out that even though he’s only twenty five, Craig is six months out of a nine year relationship. Blimey, he’s got staying power. He tells me how he had been with his ex since school and they had been living together, however when they split up he moved back in with his parents just until he can get himself back on his feet. I don’t think that’s too bad and it all sounds very sensible, but I have to stop myself from considering his long term potential again, especially now I know he’s not scared of commitment.

Especially on a first date for Christ’s sake.

The night continues and we move from bar to bar, still having a good time, still getting progressively more tipsy. As the drinks and conversation flow, I decide that I really do quite like Craig. He really is rather sexy. By the time we reach bar number three we are holding hands, and in bar number four we start kissing each other like horny teenagers. At about 1:30am we head off to a club for a bit of a dance, but it is pretty quiet inside so the decision is made to call it a night and head off.

As we walk hand in hand towards the taxi rank, nothing is said about where we were going and we just carry on chatting away about random stuff. I definitely want to go back to his place and I desperately want to rip his clothes off and see him naked. Through his top, his body and arms feel amazing, but I want to feel them skin on skin.

There are a few taxis lined up as it hasn’t reached kicking out time at the clubs yet, so we jump into the first one in the queue and it drives off.

The taxi driver turns his head to look at Craig. “Where to mate?” he asks.

Craig looks at me, and I look back at him expectantly. So here it is: decision time.

I take a breath, and then calmly say:

“Your place”.

(To be continued...)