I matched with ManChild and he messaged me pretty much straight away. He’d moved over to London from the States for work. After a few messages, he asked if I wanted to meet for coffee the following Sunday.
He said as he’d only been living in London for a month he was still finding his feet so asked if I could suggest where to meet. I usually like a guy to take the reins on this but thought hey, I was new to the City once too! I suggested a little café in the West End and he said he’d see me there at 1. There were a couple of messages back and forth after that, one which got talking about the kind of music we were both into and when I mentioned the Weekend, he responded that he hoped he could feel his face when he was with me………. I should’ve known it was just going to go downhill after that!
I got there about 10 minutes early on the Sunday and ordered myself a coffee. 1pm comes and there’s no sign of him. 1.10 and still nothing (I think a guy should always at least be on time, if not early for a first date). I get a text at 1.15 saying bear with me I’m nearly there. At 1.20pm shivers run down my spine when in walks The ManChild, wearing suit trousers that are clearly too big for him, a bally, very well worn light blue T-shirt with three cartoon owls on it, grey and bright yellow gym shoes. Reminded me a little of Tom Hanks from Big.
Now I am in no way shallow or superficial, I’ve dated all kinds of guys but this was just the oddest outfit for a first coffee date – it’s like he raided his dad’s wardrobe because he had to go and meet another adult.
Anyway, he apologizes for being late and orders himself a coffee. I start asking him questions and telling him abit about myself and most of his responses are “yeahyeahyeah”. He then goes on to tell me how he likes to hold onto various shot glasses from different places and finds it hard letting go of items he’s collected over the years so has a random armchair in his bedroom of the flat he’s sharing with two girls – keep in mind this isn’t a subject we’d been discussing beforehand. He referred to himself as a hoarder (which would make sense given that his T-shirt probably should’ve been thrown out a good decade ago).
He then went on to tell me how annoyed he was on Friday night because they went out for his flatmate’s birthday and he was ready for a big night but that everyone went home around midnight and the one thing he hasn’t had since he moved to London was a really bad hangover and he really wanted one! Clearly he’s striving for greatness!
All I could think was how much I wanted to get out of there and salvage the rest of my Sunday afternoon. I found my escape when he asked if I had anything planned for the rest of the day and I made up some nonsense about having things to do. I then excused myself to the bathroom and thankfully when I returned he’d paid for his coffee. I half sat down on my chair with my bag on my lap, ready to go when he asked if I’d like to get dinner during the week.
I’m sure my face painted a picture because I was sure he had at this stage assumed I was not interested and he didn’t really seem too fussed either. I told him work was crazy for the next while and that I wouldn’t have time.
He then proceeds to put on his glasses, full of self importance and says “walk with me”. I’m looking for the quickest route to the tube while he’s telling me how he doesn’t like wearing suits to work and tries to get away with trousers and a sports coat and that most of his suits are two sizes too big for him (way to impress a girl!)
I found myself walking a few steps ahead of him the whole time and thankfully we arrived at the tube station and said our goodbyes, which included an awkward hug and a kiss on the cheek from him which somehow got the side of my face wet. Once I’d cleared the corner and hit my platform,
I found myself rubbing my face like a child who’d just been embarrassingly kissed by a parent on their first day of school! He was a ManChild after all and who knows, he could’ve given me cooties