‘We haven’t bumped into each other in a while!’
He’s got this big beaming smile, big arms – I’m not usually one for muscles, but if they’re going – and twinkly blue eyes. For a moment I wonder why, a few Facebook messages in, my interest in the guy had cooled, I’d stopped asking questions, he’d stopped asking questions etc etc.
Then I remember. It was the mention of ‘Christian karaoke’. Which is ironic, because there’s something a bit god-like about his looks. If I were to describe him in greater detail, which I’d quite like to do, and send a draft to my mother, she would reply ‘M&B’, meaning Mills & Boon, meaning cliché-ridden and basically shit.
I smile back. ‘No we haven’t!’
And isn’t that a shame, I think, remembering our last pavement encounter.
Actually it is kind of a shame.
It’s the end of the evening, and people are lining up for the last dance. I’ve been charged with rallying the troops.
I pass by where he’s standing, chatting to a girl I know.
‘Are you guys dancing?’ I say.
He dons his jacket. ‘Actually I’m going.’
‘Oh no! Well, nice to see you…’
We kiss on the cheeks.
‘You still haven’t given me that tour!’ he says, grinning.
I grin back – of course I do. ‘No, well…’
Does he actually want me to, or is he just being charming? Which I hate.
‘It looks like you’ve got contemporary stuff on at the moment, from what I could see in the windows?’
‘Yes, it’s just coming to an end.’ I laugh. ‘And I wouldn’t have wanted to inflict that on you!’
He grins. ‘You’re not a fan?’
‘I’d have thought you’re not.’
‘I’ll let you know when there’s something good on,’ I say.
A flash of that smile.
And a cheery goodbye.
… tomorrow probably.