This was one of the hardest posts to write for so many reasons, maybe because I actually never wanted it to end. After realising that everything happens for a reason, and his loss is someone else’s gain, I finally settled down with a strong cuppa to write this one.. Enjoy!
12th March 2022
Oh how my Hinge journey had taken a turn. From date number 1 pieing me, date number 2 being a perm catfish and buying me way too many doubles, date 3 being handsome but let me pay for the entirety of the date - I was left with low expectations of men.
It was a normal Saturday; cake deliveries, my weekly coffee, catch ups and a Hinge date.
I remember talking about this one coming up for ages, being excited to meet someone different (a little out of my comfort zone as he was a tad older). As the day went on, I quickly realised I hadn’t planned my outfit, fake tanned my little arms (?) or put much thought into what he’d be like - or most importantly - what bars we’d go to...
I sadly no longer have screenshots of his messages - due to the fact we are no longer seeing each other and reading old messages hurt my heart, but I remember getting a lift into town; my friend offering a pep talk along the way. As Anne dropped me into town, I slowly walked to the Millennium Bridge, our agreed meeting spot.
As I got closer, this man was nothing like I expected, but oh so for the better. Tall, dressed smartly in dark jeans, grey All Saints Tee and a khaki jacket and delightfully handsome, I felt like our outfits complimented each other. I can’t recall a hug (but then again I only remember the awkward ones) but we walked together towards our first bar - Head of Steam. He bought the first round, we chatted easily and I started to relax. Conversation flowed well, having been a teacher previously, I felt that I related to his career well, we chatted Sunday plans (The Wanted concert in Manchester for me, an awards Ceremony for his students for my date).
As we finished our drinks, we headed off in search for a new bar. Deciding against a cold walk to the Ouseburn, we tried Pitcher and Piano (failed) and settled in a new bar to me, Charts. I thankfully stayed consistent with my gin drinking and we ordered more drinks, taking it in turns to go to the bar. I’m thankful for this because I cannot abide men that want to pay for everything which alludes to an expectation of sex to repay the favour. We chatted easily again, agreeing not to get drunk due to our busy Sunday plans. I felt comfortable in his company, felt like my outfit screamed ‘Steph’ in a good way, and almost felt attractive for once. We were sat close together, barely touching but the chemistry was felt.
As I text my friend enquiring about when she would be picking me up, I dreaded her reply to be ‘soon’ as I didn’t want the night to end. When she agreed 11/11:30pm, I was thankful my date and I still had time for another drink or two, so we headed off in search for our final stop before home.
It’s worth noting that my shoe choice was epic because I could still thankfully walk in my block heeled boots. Although a piggy back from the handsome 6ft man I was dating would have even welcomed. We headed along to Redhouse, a quirky pub on Newcastle’s Quayside I’d not heard of before. It was intimate, quiet enough but still a vibe. I opted for gin again (no drink mixing here), and he went for a Rum. He let me take a sip, because I recall his mixer being unusual to my taste, and we settled into a quiet nook of the pub. Conversation topics now a little hard to recall due to the sheer amount of alcohol consumed, but I remember a debate about Sunday dinner (only one Yorkshire pudding - outrage) and a genuine interest in each other.
Time for one final drink before home. I now never wanted this date to end but also knew I wouldn’t head back to his house - this date was far too good to end in a one night stand. As a teacher, I didn’t know if he’d be hesitant to offer me his surname, so instead, asked the first initial of his it. He quickly told me his surname; this made me think he trusted me and maybe wanted to see me again - win. Prior to this, he said “I’ll tell you my surname for a kiss”.
This was the cheekiest, yet best offer I’d had. Despite the room being full of a few tables, combined with my dislike for public display of affections, I happily obliged as he pulled me closer and placed a hand on my thigh.
The most ‘I want to rip your clothes off’ kinda kiss I’d ever had.
The night drew to a close and my carriage awaited outside (Anne). As he walked me to my meeting point (kudos to him) I didn’t know if he wanted to see me again, I often find this hard to tell, he kissed me once more, even better than the first and said ‘I’d love to see you again.’
Gentlemen, take notes… This is 10/10 date quality
*sadly, Mr Teacher as I’ll call him to ensure anonymity and I are no longer dating, but I will forever have a space in my heart for him* (more date stories with him to follow)
And in the words of Ariana Grande, thank you… next
X
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