He SMSd! He wrote that it was great meeting me and that he hoped to catch up soon. Hehe. Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day. Of course I wrote back and said Thursday works for me.
I never got a reply back.
Surely he got my message? Right? I don't have the function on my cellphone that tells me if a recipient received my message and read it. Note to self: get that function. That has to be the best application, ever. Never mind Caller ID. By the time Wednesday rolled around, I was pretty anxious. I took my life into my Nokia hands and SMSed him: 'So, we on for tomorrow?'
Instant reply: 'Yes, how about a drink at Winchester Mansions.'
Winchester Mansions is halfway between our respective abodes, reinforcing my first impression that he's funny, sexy, smart
and considerate. At that point it dawned on me that there is a God and that he has forgiven me. Needless to say I was a jack rabbit at work on Thursday. By the time 8pm came along it was a miracle my shaking hands could get the key in the ignition, let alone drive me to the hotel.
We arrived at the same time, from different directions. Blue shirt, blue jeans, blue eyes and as tall as I remembered. The awkward peck on cheek and nice-to-see-you over with, we searched for a table outside, but then acknowledging that I was actually cold we ventured indoors. The main room was full, but from previous visits I knew of a semi-private room near the bathrooms. It was empty. Just me, Blue-Eyed Boy and two roomy leather couches.
The 'date' began simple enough, getting to know each other and talking about our travel experiences. And then out of a corner of my eye I saw it. A cockroach crawling across the floor. My toes immediately curled up and the rest of my body hopped onto the couch. 'Cockroach!' I practically shrieked.
Blue-Eyed Boy just looked at me. 'I hate cockroaches,' he said, but refused to kill it.
'
What?!' I thought. '
This is Sea Point dude; there are trillions more where this one came from. They will outlast all of us in a nuclear war. Kill. The. Cockroach.'
What did he do? He got up and shooed it away. You shoo dogs and cats, not cockroaches.
Maybe he was just trying to show his sensitive side, and the cockroach was gone after all, so the conversation resumed. But then it came back again, crawling towards me. Jiggling my open-toe-stiletto-clad feet a little in its direction, the cockroach made a diversion. Back to talk about Thailand.
A few minutes later and halfway around the world, I needed the loo. As I stood up, the cockroach reappeared, as if to escort me. I prayed Blue-Eyed Boy would turn his back a little so I could scrunch the damn thing as I walked past. Except then I would feel its gooey death on my little pinky toe. Urgh.
At that moment a group of tourists walked in, and nearing us, I warned them of Sea Point's wildlife. Thankfully, one of the gentlemen in the group promptly stood on the cockroach. '
Damn, did I just emasculate Blue-Eyed Boy?' I asked myself. Frankly I didn't care; I was finally able to relieve myself and when returning, would be able to concentrate on every word he said.
When I got back I saw my savior group of tourists was now sitting on my side of our couch, engaging Blue-Eyed Boy in conversation. So I did the only thing I could do. I sat down and joined in.
So much for concentrating on his every word... I'll fill you in on the rest next week.
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The Locals