The Clocks

“Hi,” the WhatsApp message dances across my screen. It’s from NewChap – the one from Richmond. Our second date is tonight. “Massively busy at work so need to postpone tonight. The rest of the week looks no better, can we do next week?”
Looking at the time on my phone, I see that it’s 5pm and that he sent the message at 4.17pm. Oh well. I’d been looking forward to seeing him. And even turned down an offer of an evening with my darling Suzie because I thought I was seeing NewChap.
“Of course. Am sorry not to be seeing you tonight,” I reply.

Wonder if let’s-meet-next-week is just his way of trying to soften the blow of tonight’s last minute cancellation. Suspect so: he hasn’t suggested another day to meet.

Anyway: if he has already gone off me, it’s not my fault. Haven’t called him, or texted other than in response to his texts. Haven’t turned up on his doorstep or sent him lots of photos of the fluffy monster.

On the plus side: now have a first date arranged with MediaChap. The WhatsApp chat continues to be good with him. And we have some common ground: writing, reading and so on –

MediaChap: Vulnerable dark-haired writers get me every time.
Me: Am not vulnerable. Have a personal trainer. Am very strong.
MediaChap: I have a feeling it will be a great date x

Let’s hope he’s right!


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