Last week when he suggested coming over to see me I thought it would be a good idea to take him to watch a game of rugby. When I asked him if he fancied it he was really positive, especially as Sunday's opposition was a strong team and he’s never been to see a live match before.
What could possibly go wrong?
Well after our less than fantastic second date, the answer was plenty.
The game started at 3pm so Craig and I had plenty of time to enjoy all the difficult silences and awkward moments in between waking up and kick off.
We were just about ready to set off to the ground when my phone started to ring. I fished it out of my bag whilst Craig leant against the kitchen table.
“It is my Dad,” I said to Craig. “I really should take it, just in case”.
“Yeah, no worries,” Craig replied.
“Hi Dad,” I said cheerily. “I’ve got to be quick as I’m just about to set off for the rugby.”
Craig smiled at me, before motioning that he was going to nip to the loo before we left. He bounded up the stairs as my Dad replied.
“Hiya love, the rugby is why I’m giving you a call.”
I was at a loss.
“I just wanted to arrange where we’re going to meet at the ground today,” he continued.
Oh shit. I had completely forgotten.
Sunday was the game that my Dad had arranged to come and watch with me, my Uncle John, and his friend Roger.
Shit, shit, shit.
I had to meet up with them as it has been arranged for months.
Shit. How could I have forgotten? And what was I going to do about Craig?
“Are you still there?” my Dad asked.
His voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” I replied.
Upstairs I could hear that Craig was finishing up in the loo and was washing his hands. I needed to think quick.
“Erm, I’ll meet you outside the bar under the south stand,” I said to my Dad. “Oh, and it’s a little bit awkward, as I’m bringing Craig. You know, the guy I went out on a date with the other week.”
“Oh are you now?” my Dad replied in a teasing tone.
“Yeah. I totally forgot that you were coming today....” my voice trailed off as Craig bumped down the stairs.
“OK then love,” said my Dad sounding distracted. I could hear Roger chatting away in the background. “I’ll see you there in about half an hour.” And then he put the phone down, leaving me smiling uneasily at Craig who was now standing at the bottom of the stairs.
I smiled back at him nervously and said:
“I’m afraid there’s been a slight change of plan.”
I knew that if I told Craig just minutes before the game that my Dad was going to be there he would freak out (and quite rightly too) and it would look like something I’d been planning all along. All of a sudden I was about to be cast in the role of a Sharon Stone-esque bunny-boiler.
Wonderful.
There was no getting out of it though. I explained the situation to Craig and apologised profusely, and despite looking like a total idiot I think I managed to convince him that it wasn’t an elaborate plan for me to introduce him to my Dad.
Or maybe not.
Craig and I would spend half an hour or so with my Dad and chums then go and watch the rest of the match on our own. It would all be fine and it wasn't going to be an issue.
Craig looked really foxy as we walked towards the rugby stadium. He was wearing a black Ralph Lauren jacket and jeans, and I think he must have had his hair cut since I saw him the other weekend. It was super short on the nape of his neck and it looked so delicious that I just wanted to stroke it.
In the same way as when he arrived yesterday, the sober Craig was proving difficult to speak to. He was very quiet and didn’t want or seem to have much to say. It couldn't all be down to nerves about randomly meeting my Dad, could it? No, I didn’t think so, as he was like that before he started on the beers last night and also this morning.
I tentatively took hold of his hand, and we walked along holding hands for a while before he commented that he was freezing and they are firmly placed in back his pockets. OK then.
I called my Dad and I met him next to the bar area as Roger and John were getting a beer. Craig disappeared off to the loo, probably to shart himself and look for an escape route whilst I had a word with my Dad and ask him not to give Craig a hard time. As Roger and John arrived back with beers, Craig appeared from the gents.
Great. Here go the introductions.
Just as I was about to introduce Craig to them all, simultaneously my Dad, John and Roger all held out their hands and said in unison:
“Hi, I’m Kate’s Dad, John.”
Oh my God I just I died on the spot.
I didn’t know where to look and neither did Craig as my Dad and the others all laughed heartily at their hilarious joke. Let’s just go into the ground please so I can die amongst the other fans.
What then occured I can only describe as the most toe curlingly awkward eighty minutes of my life.
The game itself is great as for once my team were unstoppable. I couldn't enjoy it though as I was stuck in between Craig and my Dad, and I wasn't entirely sure what to do with myself.
Craig fully retreated into his shell and only peeked his head out a couple of times to ask why a decision had gone the way of the other team. All the time my Dad worked the intimidating strong and silent look (albeit unknowingly) which I think made Craig feel even more self conscious.
To make matters worse I couldn't bring myself to abandon my Dad after he'd come all the way over to Leeds to see me. Guilt is a wonderful thing, isn't it?
This of course meant that I felt like a total tit for the entire duration of the game. Craig was practically mute.
What a brilliant idea this was.
I have never been so relieved to hear the final whistle before in my life as it meant that the torture was over. (Happily my team were fantastic and clinched their first home league win of the season. That really was the only positive of the day, and I'm gutted that I couldn't really enjoy it).
My Dad, uncle and Roger headed off in one direction and luckily as my car was parked at the other side of the stadium Craig and I left via another exit.
“I’m really sorry about that,” I said again as Craig and I walked back to my car. “I honestly totally forgot that they were coming along today.”
“Yeah, I know. You said that already,” Craig replied sounding distinctly annoyed.
My apologies were becoming embarrassing. Craig must have thought that I was a total nutter.
As we walked in silence it was really obvious that there was nothing between us. He was quiet, the scant conversation stilted and it felt like such an effort on the drive home that we didn’t really say much and just listened to the Top 40 on the radio instead.
When we got back to my house Craig immediately rushed upstairs to collect his things. Five minutes later he is in my lounge giving me a peck on the cheek and telling me that he would speak to me soon. Two minutes later he was in his car and heading off, the engine of his car growling loudly as he drove away.
What a f*ck up.
What a total and utter disaster.
I’ve got a not so funny feeling that Craig and I won’t be seeing each other again.
I’m a bit disappointed if that turns out to be the case, but deep down I know that the past couple of days have proven that we don’t actually click and there’s no real spark between us apart from when we’ve both consumed a few units of alcohol.
It’s funny, but after our weekend together I do feel slightly disappointed. Craig was only supposed to be a bit of fun and the guy to help me get over my fears of sex and being naked: my Getting Back in the Saddle Guy as it were - but I still feel a bit deflated.
I’m really doing my own head in about Craig as I just can’t see it for what it is, or was.
Why is it that even now I’m looking for more? Maybe it’s just the way I’m programmed and maybe I just don’t do being single very well?
Or maybe it’s because in the back of my mind I’ve got the Perfect 10 list just waiting to be started on. I think it’s probably all of the above.
Agh!
FAIL!
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