Physically, it should have been the hottest thing since I scalded myself trying to work out how to work the upstairs shower in my new house.
His body was that of a greek deity. Carved, sculpted muscle all in perfect formation. His face was handsome, but rugged with the remains of a beard. It should have been a dream boat date, diving straight into the first wild sex that my new room had seen.
In reality, it was more like a belly flop. Somewhat painful, but fun all the same.
To be honest, by the end he was just starting to piss me off. The problem wasn’t his looks or his body, it was him. He could only talk about one thing…himself. His workout regimes. His personal training business. After I started talking about his online marketing strategy it just became more like a business meeting. By the time, as we were wrapping up after coffee, I couldn’t wait to leave.
The dating coupons started with his incredibly muscular body had long since been expended. There was no way I could stand being in his company for another minute, let alone inviting him back.
But the most amazing thing wasn’t the date itself, more how it happened. We hit it up on an app that morning, arranging to meet at Itsu and then go for coffee. At precisely 5 minutes before the allotted time, I hopped out my front door and down the street to our date on Goodge Street. No tube madness. No delays. No 2 hour transit time. By the time I’d thrown my Adonis down Warren Street tube station, it was a quick trip to the next street over and back home to watch Star Wars. Bliss.
As I sat around the dining table with my housemates and laughed about it – how someone that attractive could turn out to be that dull, I thought how lucky I was to be here. That everything had, somehow, just fallen into place. The new location, the new job, the new London life that I wanted. It was a feeling I hadn’t had since I first came to London more than 4 years ago.
The date may not have gone well, but I won’t lie, the bit after felt great.
It’s like experiencing London in a whole new light. Like everything that I wanted over the past few months just somehow came to be, and I’m not quite sure how. I guess now I just have to ride it. That and hope the new job I start in January is the right decision. I guess if it’s now, there’s always more job opportunities in London, right?
Right now, though, I’ll happily confess: I love having a couple of weeks off. To wake up and do what I want. It makes me realise how oppressive and unhealthy working at the agency was, how much it was destorying me. I had a call yesterday with one of the colleagues that I wanted to clear the air with. I explained my reasons for leaving and that it was the company’s decision, not mine, to make it so abrupt. She said that she understood and wished me well. I don’t know if we’ll stay in touch, but it was good to know that she respected my decision.
As I watched the emails come in telling me that I’d been removed from various admin roles, I felt a small pang of regret, but it was only a very small one. I thought of the stress levels which drove me to the limit. I thought of the boss who was exceptionally unhelpful, and realised that, whatever came next, it was the right decision.
Again, I didn’t enjoy the event itself. But the aftermath made me proud of myself. And my situation.
It made me excited for the year ahead. And that’s a feeling I’ve not had for a long time.