The Yuppie and I have encountered each other a few times, we started talking on a fetish site and it went from there. He’s a trauma doctor, well-travelled.
I recently quit my stressful job in the midst of a breakdown/bout of anxiety and depression, so let’s just say I wasn’t in the best frame of mind.
The first attempted date, the Yuppie invited me for coffee. I arrived early, ordered a latte and scrolled through twitter. I finished my latte, the time kept ticking, after 10 minutes and no contact from the Yuppie I assumed he wasn’t coming. Admittedly, I was a ticking timebomb when it came to men, due to my anxiety, dating overload, depression and confusion over my feelings I was on a ‘Who run da world? Girls!’ Type of trip.
After another 3 minutes, I paid for my coffee and left. All the while worrying he would walk in the door and see me paying to leave, like a jumped up, high maintenance lunatic.
After the above texts, we spoke some more. Both agreeing to disagree. He thought I was unreasonable (in hindsight, I probably was) I thought he was entitled.
I had no real interest in meeting the Yuppie after our failed date, maybe it was embarrassment, more likely I felt ambivalent.
He text me once a week for about 2 months, some I would ignore, others I would reply. To be honest I found it fascinating that he still wanted to meet me. I had been nothing but obnoxious.
Eventually I cracked. He asked me when we could go out?
TGD – Whighams, 7pm this evening. Don’t be late.
I love Whighams, it’s a wine bar with lots of candles and dark nooks to plonk yourself in. He was on time, and was exactly how I imagined him to be. I didn’t fancy him, but we were here now, may as well learn about each other and try to have fun. The conversation flowed, I was prickly, I didn’t mean to be, but we really had got off on the wrong foot. I had planned to have one drink and make my excuses, but he wasn’t going to let that happen.
The Yuppie asked me if I would like to join him for a “cheeky fun stick”? it took me a moment to realise, this was yuppie speak for a cigarette. He also felt the need to tell me repeatedly that he was a “New Town Boy” everything was “Faaabulous”. Those who know me, know I am well spoken. But crikey, this felt pretentious.
I basically had to motion to him to drink up, and said I had to go home and do some work (it was 9pm).
He pinned me there and then to a second date, I looked at my diary on my phone, it was fairly clear, I said Sunday meaning 3 weeks from now… he took it to mean this coming Sunday. Balls. We were going for lunch.
We hugged awkwardly goodbye. Then I started to plot my excuse. I got home and had a text ready and waiting.It’s always the way, the ones you are dying to text you, never do, the ones you’re not so fussed about text straight away. I would like to study this further, it must have something to do with attitude and mind set.
The following day I replied, I quite liked someone else so it wouldn’t be right to see him again – worst excuse ever, I always like someone else! He wished me well. Game over – phew!