Apart from a potential second date with Jarvis – if it happens it will be only the second second date I’ve landed since the start of this blog – there is no Tinder action on the horizon. Cancelled Monday’s date due to the Cold-Of-Doom and am tempted not to rearrange it as he’s a thirty year old musician who lives in Peckham so is unlikely to be much use in any way.
In what we used to call “RL” – Real Life – a chap wants to fly from Amsterdam to see me. Let’s call him Arjen. Have already achieved four dates with him, this would be number five, making him the second most successful internet bloke in my dating career, after Laszlo the Hungarian academic. Laszlo was a bit of a twat though, whereas Arjen is lovely. He’s 42 or something – so a grown-up – and amazingly gorgeous: lots of shaggy dark blond hair and big grey eyes and a tan. 6 ft 2 or so I think. Looks the same as most of my chaps but has a lovely Dutch accent. And a Proper Job. He used to be a banker – “your Dad won’t be impressed – I work for a Tier Three bank” but now he does something else. He loves art – is that a Dutch thing because they have such top artists – don’t know. Arjen adores animals and his brother has a curly coated retriever who he dogsits for quite often.
His taste in theatre is less good though. He actually flew here to see The Lion King – just came to England for one night for the specific purpose of going to the show. He asked me to go with him, and because I’d never seen it I agreed. We had great seats in the stalls and I got to sit next to him in the dark – good – and he couldn’t get away from me – even better. Really wanted to like the production. Of course I didn’t but he adored it – so much so that as soon as he arrived home he purchased the soundtrack.
The following day, I call my brother in Abroad.
“Carl,” I say. “Arjen took me to see The Lion King and…”
“Why?” Carl says, sounding horrified.
“He wanted to see it and so I wanted to go with him. It’s the people who did the puppets for War Horse and that was wonderful so I thought it might be good. Actually – the puppets were good – particularly the giraffes – and the big numbers with all the animals together worked – but the scenes between one or two animals, say the cub and his dad or something – they were terrible.”
“I think if we don’t like something by now, we’re just not going to like it,” Carl says. “I went to see Prince recently – on the premise that people say he’s amazing – and it was the worst concert I’ve ever been to and…”
“Could he have been having a bad day?” I say.
“Apparently not. The people I was with, who’d seen him before, said that it was the best concert of his they’d been to. I just think I don’t like him, and that’s that.”
“It didn’t help,” I say, “that children kept crying and wandering in and out of the theatre. It’s a huge theatre though – the biggest one I’ve ever been to. There were plenty of loos, which was good.”
“Was it nice to see him?” Carl says.
“It was, but he asked me how I was in the restaurant beforehand and I burst into tears and said ‘I’ve been having treatment for breast cancer’ and I think he was shocked or…I don’t know. I felt bad about it.”
Anyway, fingers crossed that Arjen comes to see me. Hope he hasn’t booked tickets for us to see The Lion King again. Obviously I pretended to him that I loved it…