This week the lovely man left for America, so in a frankly pitiful attempt to take my mind/heart/soul off of him I went back to Tinder, which kind of felt like taking a job in Sports Direct when you used to manage a football club.Ā
So my first foray back in to dating and it lasts a total of 32 minutes and ends with the most alarming text message Iāve ever received.Ā
We meet at the tube station after he declined my suggestion to meet at a pub, and he asks if we can go for a coffee as heās not drinking.Ā
āSureā I say, āthereās a lovely independent coffee place over the road.ā
āNah, thereās a Costa just here. Saves crossingā he replied.Ā
Like seriously? I put on eyeliner for this and now Iām in a Costa bloody Coffee.
Ā After 25 minutes of ānormalā conversation we have the following exchange:
Ā Him: āHave you had dinner yet?"Ā
Me: "No I came straight from work."Ā
Him: "What would you say if I offered to cook you dinner?"Ā
Him: "I only ask because Iāve got an Ocado delivery coming tonight."Ā
Me: "Iād have to say no. I couldnāt possibly go back to the home of someone Iāve literally just met, sorry."Ā
Him (talking over me): "lots of nice fresh vegetables and good fish."Ā
Him: "OK well Iād better go. Need to be home for the delivery."Ā
The birth of #OcadoAndChill
So we walk back to the station, say our goodbyeās, then this happens:
Yes you do decide yourself what to do with your money, and last night you decided to spend it on a coffee. I donāt come with a money back guarantee. Dates arenāt commodities.Ā
I actually felt angry, because as youāll know if you read this blog often, I am a massively big believer in women always offering to pay for dates.
His response is just beyond me!
UPDATE: What happened next.
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