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It was half past midnight. I was home, alone. I didn’t want to have a hangover so I ate a bowl of baked beans and sausages and drank tea. I had got drunk as fuck and got home in one piece. All in all it was a pretty good night. I went to bed.

I woke up the next morning to find a text message on my phone.

Woop wooop! I text her back, she texts me back. I have learnt from past experiences to make your intentions known as early as possible. On my second text message I asked her out.

She said yes. We agreed on the cinema. In these initial text messages I have to really reign back my sarcasm and cynicism, these are the kinds of things that are taken the wrong way unless you know me.

The night of the first date was 3 days after we’d seen each other at Wendy’s party. We hadn’t spoken, or met. It was a deaf date.

I pulled up at her house. It was in Wolverhampton, I didn’t know the area. She got in the car and said hi and I started driving. It was awkward for all of 5 seconds. I drove to the top of the street and asked her which way I should go. She said right, but pointed left. I stopped the car and looked at her. “Which way is right”. She pointed right, and we laughed.

She talked a lot. She used some big words. Words that big that I don’t think they would have even fit in any of my ex girlfriend’s heads. There were no gaps, no awkward silences. Everything that was said was met with agreeing thoughts and confirming anecdotes.

We watched the movie and headed home. We talked in the car outside her house for over an hour. She played with her hair a lot.

She was waiting for me to kiss her.


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