Dear Readers
I mentioned that I had met a man on the train. Here is the story of how we met.
I had been to a colleagues leaving drinks, for she was going off to pop a baby out! It was a lovely evening although a bit subdued and by eight O'clock I had walked her to the tube and was on my way to Fenchurch Street station to catch my overhead train back to Essex.
I went via the shop in the station and bought myself one of their toasted sandwiches, the New Yorker, the kind of yummy meat that you dare not ask what it is, and gherkins (are New Yorkers the only people aside from me that realise gherkins can go with anything!?)
I settled down in an empty carriage at the back of the train and put my earphones in for the half hour train ride. A cute guy clambered aboard and sat in the chair behind me, he looks at me, I look at him...hmmm cutie!
"Nice dress" he says, I tell him its vintage and only cost me a £1.00 at a bootsale (I don't know why I feel the need to tell everyone that and brag about my second hand clothing addiction) and we start chatting.
I am craning my neck round to talk to him so after a bit I invite him to opposite me, seeing as I am taking up a whole table, a very bold move on my part as I am never so daring!
We establish that he lives in the same town as me, he is a couple of years older than I am, also works in the city etc etc.
We get off at our station and (we are currently in debate about who invited who) we ended up in the pub directly opposite, it was Friday night after all and it was only 8.30 pm!
We chatted and had a couple of drinks until after what had felt like 20 minutes the bell rang, it was 11pm and time to go home.
We'd discovered that we had some things in common, he came from a large family like myself, we had similar opinions on the most random things.
I surprised myself when I found that I was attempting to flirt to be honest. I was very tipsy by this point.
Oh I nearly forgot the sandwich... and to give him a name, we'll call him Charlie.
Charlie said he was starving while we were in the pub, so doing what any woman with half a baguette in her handbag (not a euphemism) would do, I offered him my sandwich, Charlie, having no shame what so ever, accepted and proceeded to inhale my new yorker.
He wanted to know what was in it and so started the conversation about gherkins and how they are by far the most overlooked pickled treat. He is just as weird as me! Yay!
So when the bell rang and it was time to go home we went outside, him arguing with me about getting a taxi and me saying the walk to my house was short and that I would be fine walking (I won in the end!)
Standing in the village square he pulled me to him and kissed me, one of those passionate kisses with just the right amount of drunken abandon that you don't over think it.
He had already given mE his business card but also tapped his number into my phone and we spent the next day texting back and fourth.
Now due to various commitments on both sides it took a full two weeks to arrange a date, after much back and fourth we finally went out for a date that could never be described as a disaster.
Charlie (drunkenly I am sure) said perhaps we were meant to meet that night, that it could be fate (told you he was weird, but good weird)
Is it really so simple that some things are to be and some things are not to be?
All I know is my date was down to the good old C2C!
To be continued...
Love
SG
