A Date

 Dorothy was ok this morning. I took her back to the dyserth Walkway and she trotted to heel as always, bright and excited and as bouncy as usual 

I had a date today

A bona fide date! 

Now the last time I dated anyone,  way back before the start of the first lockdown,  “the date”  became a very good friend and nothing more.

Which is a sort of lose/win situation .

Today was a bust

Three hours I’m never going to get back again.

The date in question was a guy I met several months ago in the weekly Big Gay Quiz .

He was in my small group one Friday and in the weeks that followed, he messaged me privately during subsequent quiz nights to say hi , and to swap chit chat.

He is a little younger than me, broad and built like a lumberjack

I was intrigued 

Eventually I gave him my telephone number and we swapped friendly texts.

Since the constraints of lockdown had been lifted, he has texted me a few times asking for a date

So today I met him for lunch in Chester

Gawd help me, the man never stopped talking about himself .

The first hour, I let it go because I thought he could have been nervous, but as we entered the second hour and he still hadn’t asked me one question about myself, I thought it could be  time to call things a day.

As hour three came, and when I was sipping my second cold coffee elbows on the table , he stopped telling me a story about one of his luxury holidays and suddenly asked me if he could as me a personal question.

I told him that he could and he pointed to a tiny patch of skin on my right elbow.

“Is that psoriasis ?” he asked 

“ Yes I’m covered in it “ I replied 

( I’m not btw)

A few minutes later he reminded himself and me that he had to get home for a work’s phone call.

I walked down to the River Dee and bought myself an ice cream 

I sat and ate it on a bench in the sun 

And enjoyed the silence