Friday arrived and Alex the Architect made himself known for the first time in days with a one-line email.
“Are we still on for tonight?” he asked.
“Sure… whatever” I replied.
As I arrived at the bar we agreed upon, I received a text from him.
“I’m running late.”
What a start.
I ordered myself a glass of wine and threw myself on a sofa in front of a fireplace.
I had good history with this bar – the venue where my favourite first date took place.
It was with a guy called Rich, the Kiwi. The romance was short lived as he left for overseas soon after we met, but it was one of my most positive romantic experiences.
He was gorgeous – blonde, athletic, with the most amazing blue eyes. He made me laugh like no one else ever has. I wasn’t in love with him, but I was very fond of him, he made me feel happy, and when we parted it was on the best of terms. We wished each other well and we never spoke again.
That first date was something special. Rich, the Kiwi and I spent hours drinking wine, talking, and laughing. The hours flew past as if they were seconds and before we knew it, it was closing time.
I anticipated that there was no way this date with Alex the Architect could turn out the same way.
As I waited, playing games on my mobile phone, I could see Alex arrive in the corner of my eye.
He spotted me quickly and made a v-line to me – kissing me on the cheek hello.
The first thing I noticed were his clothes… I was not impressed…
Then I looked into his eyes…. Those damn green eyes.
He did not seem very excited to be there at first, a little stand offish as I remember he was on the night we met.
Surprisingly however, the conversation flowed easily. He was thoughtful in his questions and seemed to listen to my answers.
He was polite and attentive, quickly up on his feet to buy me another wine as soon as I was close to finishing the one I had bought myself.
This confused me… Was he not the cockhead I imagined? Did he not fit into the “loser” box I had already placed him in, in my head. I’m usually so right about these things…
Maybe it was due to the consumption of a couple of glasses of red wine and the resulting verbal diahorrea I experience when slightly intoxicated, but I could not read him the entire time. I thought I was pretty good at reading body language. This slightly unnerved and annoyed me, but mostly intrigued me.
At one point I remember thinking he was kind of lovely, and this is when I realized I was drunk… again…
There was absolutely no body contact with Alex the Architect. No brush of the hand. No shift in position on the couch. No arm contact. All there was, was a hug at the end of the night… Immediately I concluded that this was his way of getting rid of me.
Though he did seem slightly disappointed when I told him I would need to conclude the night early as I had a friend’s party to run off too. I politely made a point to let him know that I too had places to be since he so rudely decided he could fit me in before he went out with his friends. I wasn’t about to forget that too quickly.
I walked away confused.
An hour later, as I was on my way to my friend’s party, my phone rang – it was him, Alex the Architect.
I nearly jumped out of my skin in drunken excitement…
This is insane, I tried to compose myself, How can I be giggling like a schoolgirl after a couple of hours with this guy?
I remember my drunken conversations with Rich after our awesome dates. It was never long after our goodbyes, that he would be calling or texting me – making a point to hear my voice before I even arrived home.
We would laugh hysterically in our drunken states and he had me thinking of him and smiling, long after our dates had ended.
Oh that was excitement, and although I always knew Rich wasn’t the one for me, he had me smiling like no one else had before.
Could this, whatever this is with the Architect, be something similar? Could he have the ability to make me feel special, wanted and happy?
I composed myself and answered my phone.
Alex tells me he lost his wallet and wonders if I am still near the bar.
Thank god he was nowhere near me to see my face turn bright red in embarrassment.
I can’t believe how quickly my imagination jumped to crazy romantic conclusions. I can’t believe how I could have possibly thought that he was wanting to hear my voice, like Rich once did.
A loss of a wallet, and loss of rational thinking… not a good start at all.