Alastair couldn’t believe that he was going on a blind date. It had been an off-hand comment about wanting to date when he’d been chatting to one of the parents at a birthday party he’d been performing at, and now here he was dressed up and ready to go.
The woman had said that she knew the perfect guy for him, and so Alastair had agreed. She had set everything up, told them both where to go and what time to meet and that was that. He didn’t know the name of the guy, or anything like that. Alastair had told the woman to tell his blind date that he’d be wearing a white shirt. He hoped that was enough for the date to recognise him.
All he really knew was that the guy was younger than him. But that wasn’t an issue.
Dressed in his white shirt, Alastair sat at the bar, trying not to drink too quickly to try and get rid of the nerves. He was just starting his second beer, and didn’t want to get really drunk so promised he’d have a glass of water next.
Each time someone walked into the bar, Alastair looked over at the door, wondering if that would be him.
@holli-flynn-at-your-service