The most bizarre 'date' experience.
I was invited to dinner at his house.
I befriended his flatmates, as is wise to do in these situations.
They loved me.
We are howling with laughter and at one point they make fun of my date.
He disappeared after mains.
We are too bust laughing and enjoying ourselves to really notice.
30 minutes pass.
He hasn't returned.
They go looking for him.
He's not in the house.
I call him - no answer.
I wait an hour.
I wait another hour.
It's now too late to catch the last tube home, I'm deep in South West London.
With only his 2 male roommates, who I just met.
Where is he? What happened?
A total mystery.
They suggest I sleep in his bed as he simply has not returned and I can catch the train in the morning.
They say he did this once before in Cornwall when his mother died.
I feel bad.
I take my contacts out, I wash my makeup off with a dishcloth (house of boys).
I put his clothes on as pyjamas.
I go to sleep, eventually.
I wake up in the morning. No sign of him,
I get myself ready and go to leave the house, when I notice in the corner of the living, him asleep on the sofa.
We lock eyes as I open the door to leave.
In the shock, I rush out the front door.
Walking briskly in the cold air I start to feel bad.
Should I have given him a chance to explain himself?
What did I do wrong?
Did I upset him?
Was he upset about something else?
Is his family ok, did he get a call about something?
I turn around.
Rush back to the door.
I knock.
He answers.
I ask what happened, in the most compassionate tone I can manage.
He says: I went for a walk.
To Piccadilly.
I blink at him (half blind without my contact lenses).
I wait for the truth.
It doesn't come.
I can sense that he felt like I preferred his friends to him.
Like he felt left out or pushed out.
But this is not valid.
Can't be a valid reason for how he acted.
I did exactly what anyone else would have done - I befriended his roommates.
Bizarre.
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