First date

The pub was busy, so I decided to wait out in the cold. Inside looked dingier than I'd imagined, with a higher average age of clientelle than I'd anticipated, but she'd suggested it. It was starting to get dark outside.

Down the street, I saw a figure with the same wavy brown hair that was in her photos. Rather than watching her walk from a hundred metres away, I pretended to text and look at the travel agents window on the other side of the road. When she was down to ten metres, I turned and pointed at her, with a squint.

'Jenny?'

'Hello!' she chirped, and gave me a hug. We'd only started talking the day before, and the quick escalation to text to date to hug took me aback.

'I'm Max,' I said.

'I know,' she said, and took in a sharp breath. 'Why are you out in the cold?'

'It's busy in there,' I said, not adding that I didn't want to look lonely among the two dozen middle-aged suits.

Without another word, she lead the way in and up to the bar.

'Double whiskey and coke please,' she said to the stocky barmaid. I asked for a pint of beer. The barmaid sorted the drinks and I took out my wallet. Jenny had previously insisted on buying the drinks when we arranged the date, since I'd come to near her workplace. I always made a point of insisting to pay, unless they adamantly insist three times. On the third time, I'd concede. Jenny had mentioned it once, so I had money at the ready. When the drinks were placed on the bar for us, I gave Jenny a glance. She was fiddling with her phone, so I slowly handed over my ten pound note. I spluttered when I was handed forty pence changed. As soon as the transaction was complete, she put her phone away, clinked my glass on the bar and walked towards a table. I swallowed a 'You're welcome'.

She sat down at a table in the corner with two large, upholstered armchairs. The corner was away from any windows, so the light came from two flame-shaped bulbs on fake candles behind our chairs. I took a sip of my pint and placed it on a coaster.

'Good day?' I asked.

'Not really,' she mumbled, fidgeting with her handbag before putting it on the ground. She took a sip of her drink. 'It was just really busy, and people kept coming in with ridiculous requests. I mean, it's a Tuesday, why aren't you people at work?'

She was talking towards the ground with an annoyed palm outstretched, as if she was specifically having a go at a short person who was just out of my sight. When she'd finished, her eyes turned to me. She had a harsh, Essex accent which I hadn't expected.

'Right, yeah, that's annoying...' I said, preceding a silence. 'What do you do?'

'I'm a hairdresser, just around the corner from here,' she said, indicating with a flick of her head. 'I used to be a hairdressing consultant. That's where I basically tell hairdressers what to do if they have a problem. It's a call centre role. So if a hairdresser has accidentally dyed someone's hair green and they're like, 'aaah, what do I do?', they called me and I helped. It was really stressful though, so I left, and I had an interview at this place where I actually worked before, and now I'm there again.'

I felt out of breath for her. I hadn't really asked about any of that backstory, but I got it anyway. She never made eye contact while speaking, but always looked to me at the end to make sure I was still listening. I took another sip and nodded. 'Do you enjoy your current job?' I asked, and my stomach tightened. That was a boring question.

'It's ok, I mean it's my passion, you know? Hair and that.' She looked to me again; I smiled and nodded. 'Rather do this and deal with shitty customers than work in an office. Fuck that.'

I work in an office, I thought. Instead, I forced a laughing 'yeah'. I let the silence hang afterwards, anticipating the return job question. It didn't come.

As she rambled about 'hair and that', I watched her face. I now knew why she didn't smile or show the left side of her face in any of her profile pictures. She had front teeth which looked like they were trying to reach over each other, and a cluster of warts just to the side of her nose. She had nice, curly brown hair, with tints of blonde throughout it, which came down to her elbows, but hairdressers always have nice hair. She also had nice eyes, which shimmered from brown to gold to green as the light caught them.

'...and also rather work in this place than one of the chains,' she said, flicking her head again when referring to "this place", 'like Tony and Guy or Rush, you know?'

I didn't know, because I hadn't really been listening, so I bobbled my head in neither a nod or a shake. 'Why not?'

'They're just too mainstream, and Rush are plain shit anyway.'

'I used to go to Rush. I thought it was quite nice.'

'No, it's shit.'

I didn't bother arguing, I knew it would be futile. Awkward silence set in again. I wanted to let it hang, to force her to actually ask me something, but after ten seconds of her swilling her drink around the ice cubes, it became too painful.

I went with, 'Where do you live?'

'High Barnet,' she answered immediately, as if she'd been waiting for me to ask.

I laughed. 'And you're a hairdresser!' The joke completely passed her by.

'Yeah, it's alright up there. I'm just sick of living with my Mum and Dad, you know? But it's nice still being around my brother and hanging out with his mates.'

'That's nice,' I said. Now I knew that she was a hairdresser, living in High Barnet with her parents and her brother. She knew that my name was Max. That was it.

'Yeah, he's got this mate, Crazy John we call him. Oh my god, he's so funny.' She let out a loud cackle, I chuckled and nodded, anticipating a crazy story about Crazy John. Instead, she picked up her drink and slurped.

'Why's he called Crazy John?' I asked, still fake-chuckling.

'Oh, he's just mental, you know?' She started laughing again. 'Oh my god. Like, the other week, he bought a bunch of exotic meats on the Internet! We had an alpaca barbecue!'

'No way!' I leant towards her to get more into the story.

'Yeah, it was alright,' she said, and the story died.

'Well, why not?' I said, trying to get some kind of connection going. 'I mean, everyone's accidentally been eating horse recently, right?'

'I don't see what the problem is with that,' she said, slurping the last of her whiskey.

'With eating horse? Well no, I don't think there's a problem, necessarily. It's more that it's being sold falsely as beef.'

I may as well have just told her I'd prefer to eat human, since my comment flew straight through her head and out of the other ear.

'I mean, they eat cats and dogs in China.' I was fairly sure that comment was inaccurate in numerous ways, but I couldn't be bothered. She slammed her glass down onto the table and looked at my drink. I still had a third of a pint left. 'I'll get a second round,' she said, stood up and walked towards the bar.

Reflecting on the onslaught of talking I'd just received, I decided that this second drink would be my limit, then I'd make my excuses. I'd tried my best to like her, but she was making it difficult for me. I looked around the room, and noticed a back exit next to the toilets. A potential escape. Jenny was out of sight, she wouldn't see if I just picked up my coat and left. She had a bag and coat on her seat, which could possibly be stolen if they were left unattended, but I decided that wasn't my issue. I imagined the shit-storm I'd get from her, but the laughs I'd get from my friends when I told them. Craning my neck, I tried to get a view outside the door to make sure I wouldn't be walking directly into her line of sight.

Jenny emerged from around the corner carrying two pints of beer. My window had closed.

'Are you ok?' she said. 'You look scared.'

I realised this was the first question she'd asked me all evening, except for 'y'know?'. 'I'm fine,' I said, and took my pint.

'So what do you do?' she asked. I was taken aback by the sudden question.

'I'm an administrator. Office job,' I said, shrugging and smiling. She didn't clock on.

'Enjoy it?'

'Uhh... it's alright. It's not too exciting but it pays the bills.'

'Oh don't get me started on bills,' she started. 'I pay my parents a hundred pounds a month, and now they're saying it's not enough.' She scoffed as she raised the glass to her mouth.

'A hundred a month for what, board?'

'Everything. Board, bills, food.'

'And now how much do they want?'

'Two hundred! Ridiculous!'

I took a long sip to finish my first pint, and coughed as I swallowed too much in one go. 'Do you only work part-time then?'

'No, full time.'

'What's wrong with two-hundred pounds?' I said, frowning. 'I pay six-hundred a month, not including food.'

'But I live with my parents, I shouldn't have to pay that much.'

'Why not? I mean, you're what, twenty-five?' I could feel my chest tightening. 'You're at an age where you could have moved out, and would be paying much more. Two hundred pounds is nothing.'

'I'm twenty-eight,' she said.

I realised I was talking to a brick wall, sighed and gave up. We sat in silence for a moment, and she didn't seem to realise I was frustrated with her. This date was going nowhere and needed to end.

'Ah!' I said, looking at my watch. 'I almost forgot, I need to be home by eight.'

'Why?' she frowned. 'I thought you said you're free all night...'

I had said that. That was before the date turned out to be a disaster. 'Yeah... I was... but I forgot my keys this morning, so now I need to get back to my flat before my flatmate goes to his girlfriend's house.' My gay flatmate, I thought. I didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed by the speed at which the lie had come to me. My keys suddenly felt very large, sharp and loud in the pocket closest to her.

'Oh. Well that was a stupid thing to do,' she said. 'Silly' would have been playful; 'stupid' came off as rude.

'I know, right? Silly old me!' I slapped my forehead.

She was still frowning, but then suddenly sprung to a glazed stare as she picked up her pint. 'Never mind, Crazy John and my brother are going to see that new Superman film tonight, I'll just join them.'

'Cool,' I said, keeping my knee perfectly still to prevent any key jangling. 'I've heard it's alright. Some mixed reviews though.'

'I really loved the last one,' she said. Superman Returns? I thought. That film stunk. I bit my tongue and nodded. 'It can't be as crap as those Batman films.'

I un-bit my tongue. 'The Dark Knight films? You didn't like those?'

'No, they were shit,' she said frowning, as if they made her genuinely angry.

'Well, that's your opinion,' I said.

'No, they were literally shit.' I took a long hard gulp and looked at my watch. Quarter past seven. I could escape soon. 'Then we'll probably go back to Crazy John's. Oh, he's so funny.'

I don't want to hear about Crazy John again, I wanted to say. Crazy John's probably a moron to have a moron friend like you.

'He's the kind of guy, right, he'll get off the tube two stops early and walk the rest of the way. That's just his mentabolism.'

That was enough. I put my pint down, still half of it remaining. 'Well, I better go,' I said, standing up.

'Now?'

'Yep! You know, keys and all,' I zipped up my coat. 'If I'm not back before he leaves, my flatmate will happily just leave me in the cold. That's his mentabolism.'

Jenny stood and fastened her coat too. She was catching the tube from the same station as me, but luckily that was just around the corner. I walked faster than her through the rush-hour crowds and pretended not to hear her when she said something about a hairdressers we walked past. Down in the tube station, we reached a fork where I would be going to catch the southbound line and she the northbound.

'Well, thanks for a lovely evening,' I lied. I wanted to turn on my heel there and then, but she went in for a hug. I put my hands on her sides as loose as possible. Her hair smelled of chemicals. When she stepped back, she was looking deep into my eyes, then down to my mouth.

'I had a great time,' she said. I frowned slightly, but not enough for her to notice something was wrong. She looked at my mouth again, and I noticed her head make slight craning movements forward and tilting. Her eyes started to close, but everything reset into their original positions when she noticed my head and shoulders backing away. 'What are you doing?'

'Um... what do you mean?' I shrugged off.

'You don't want to kiss?'

I hated these moments. I didn't like lying, or being brutally honest, so they usually came down to split decisions. 'No,' I said.

She stepped back and folded her arms, her eyes and mouth expanded. 'But, I-'

'You don't really think this went well, did you? We're completely different, have nothing in common and no chemistry!' I was drawing a few glances from other commuters, so dipped my voice at the end.

'I know but- it's a first date, we could-' Her eyes looked wet.

'No, Jenny, sorry,' I said. 'You're a nice girl, but there's nothing between us at all.'

'Yeah, well fuck you,' she said with a sharp pointed finger. 'I don't even fancy you anyway, you scrawny shit. Fuck off!'

Jenny flung the back of her coat around as she turned away, exiting like an evil villain. A couple of men in suits glanced at her and me, and I shrugged.

That went less good than I hoped, I thought. At least I didn't call her a moron to her face.

I arrived home to my flatmate cooking dinner. He asked how it went, and I told him disastrously. I logged into the dating site to find that Jenny's profile had vanished. I also had one new message waiting for me.

'Hi! I'm Abby, you seem interesting, lets chat!'

I didn't know if I could be bothered with dating anymore.