Page 8 of The Blind Date

Ididn’t have high hopes to begin with but this date had started out just as disappointing as the nine before it.

Even though I knew that being a hopeless romantic didn’t pay off for most people, and probably wouldn’t for me, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that I didn’t walk into The Ivy and immediately feel a connection to someone. I yearned to meet his eyes from across the restaurant and immediately know that this would be so much more than just a blind date.

Two men sat alone at the bar, neither of whom particularly interested me. The empty seat between them told me they didn't know each other. They were both on their phones, too invested in tapping away at the screen to be waiting anxiously for their blind date to arrive.

I glanced around the restaurant. The place was classically decorated with some tasteful art pieces adorning the walls, and crisp white tablecloths sat atop the tables. There was a tall pillar in the middle of the room, obstructing my view, but a quick scan of the restaurant revealed that only two men were eating alone at the tables.

One of them looked to be in his mid-to-late fifties. His hair was thinning into a light shade of grey and the way he squinted while trying to read something on his phone told me that he had left his reading glasses at home. But it wasn’t his age or need for reading glasses that told me he wasn’t my blind date this evening. It was the small purse laid on the other side of the table and its chain which he aimlessly twirled around his finger as he read that told me he wasn't here alone tonight.

The second man was more around my age. While he was sitting at the table alone, it was littered with enough food to feed two people and allow them both to take a doggy bag home. Hoping that my blind date wouldn't start eating without me, I ruled him out as well.

That meant he was late. That, or he had stood me up. There was always that small, nagging fear on a blind date. That the person could have turned up, taken one look at me, saidhell no, and walked out. All without me knowing.

I decided to give him fifteen minutes before I left.

Not wanting to look like I had been stood up, I moved over to the bar and ordered a glass of red wine. I wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but dates always required a little something to take the edge off. And blind dates were always worse.

I turned around in my seat and leaned back against the bar, casually sipping at my wine as I watched the restaurant. I had eaten a salad and halloumi at my desk for lunch, but that was hours ago, and I was hungry again. If this man didn't arrive in the next ten minutes, I was going to order myself a takeaway. It would be a nice upgrade from the sad McDonald’s that I treated myself to every Friday evening if I wasn't spending it with my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I felt my phone vibrate in my purse. Fishing for it, my lips curved up as I read the messages on the screen.

Lottie

Saff, where are you?

Liam is with his friends tonight so I have no one to dance with

Come and dance with me!

We’re at a bar in Shoreditch

Alina:

Leave her alone!

She’s supposed to be on a blind date right now

Don't distract her from falling in love

Victor:

And aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon right now?

Jeremy:

We are on our honeymoon

But my wife seems to have forgotten that

Alina:

Have to go, guys!

Saff, I can see you’re reading these message

It’s rude to text and date

It's also rude to honeymoon and text

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