“Ehhh, let's hope so. Shall I fake call in half an hour?” she offers.
“Please!”
We say our goodbyes and I walk into the pub, looking around for my date. I spot him quickly – he mostly looks like his photos if not more bald and about three stone heavier, but he's easily recognisable at least – and make my way over to the high top table.
He stands from his stool and leans in for an awkward pat on the back in some semblance of a hug. But weirdly, his gaze drops instantly to my feet.Is he shy?
“Shari, thanks for coming.”
“Hi Gerard, it's good to meet you.” I shuck off my coat and notice he already has a lager on the table that's about half full. “I’ll just pop to the bar and grab a drink, would you like another?”
“No,” he just stares at my feet after his one-word answer.
Ok then.
Pear cider in hand, I return to the table and hope he's gotten over his nerves, or this will be a very long half hour waiting for Jaime’s call.
“Cheers,” I say, holding my glass out towards him. His eyes flick up long enough to clink his glass against mine, but then bounce down to my feet again with a frown.What the hell?
“So, Gerard?—”
“Gez.”
“Gez. What is it that you do for work again?” I know he said he's an accountant, but I'm scrambling for anything to get him talking. Maybe he's passionate about his job.
“I’m an accountant.” Guess not.
“Ah yes, I remember. What about hobbies? What do you like to do in your spare time?”
He shrugs, “I enjoy birdwatching, I guess.”
“Oh, my dad is an avid birdwatcher! Do you go out and about taking photos and notes of the various birds you see?”
“No.”
For fuck's sake, Gez, help a girl out here!
“Right. Well, there must be something else you enjoy?”
“Feet. I like feet.”
I am massively regretting not chatting to him on the app much before agreeing to a date now. I figured it's easier to tell if you have chemistry in person after my lack of attraction to Drew, but good god this is like pulling teeth. Very weird and creepy teeth.
“Feet…”
“Yes. I love feet. I was hoping you'd at least wear open-toed shoes tonight. I know it's winter, but it would have been preferable. Even with a pair of tights on, that would have been good. I saw your feet in one of your profile photos, you were wearing sandals and I had to zoom in, but I think your feet are sexy.”
Fuck. My. Life.
I chug half my cider, the bubbles burning their way down my throat and up the back of my nose, and muster a thanks.
Has it been half an hour yet? Goddamn it, Jaime, call me already!
We sit there in silence as Gez stares at my boot-covered feet in disdain, and I try to ignore the fact by quietly singing along to the Christmas music jingling in the background – I swear they start playing earlier every year. I can't muster the energy to try and pry conversation out of him again.
I nearly jump out of my skin when my phone does in fact start ringing, but like with my first date, it's Brad, not the call I was expecting.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this. Be right back,” I practically shout whilst surreptitiously grabbing my coat and hastening out the door.
