Christmas is a great time for dating because everything's just so damn cute. It's all snowflakes, sugary baked goods, roaring fires and for some reason a lot of whisky which I'm not even sure if I like. I love it so much and it's not even because I spent my rent money on a beautiful coat.
I went on a date to my city's Christmas Market. I remembered what it was like from the year before. Everything was a bit grubby, there was ice skating in an old dried up lake and mulled wine in half clean glasses with handles. It wasn't fairytale but it was charming.
Now it's different. The festive community is being bought over by bigger companies so everything has the feel of a highly polished Intsagram picture. I'm still sulking because this year I drank my mulled wine out of a branded Christmas market mug. There's nothing worse than drinking booze out of a mug in a street. At least I was saving that for my 80s.
The old ferris wheel which used to be an unsafe low metal cage, parasol topped with candy paint is now a futuristic, (well what the future looked like in the 90s) plastic case with bus seats.
Everyone knows what happens on slow moving fairground ride - smooching. The romantic kiss was ruined with a transport company's boring monologue about how long buildings have been around. Trapped in a souless perspex box the mood was ruined when I looked up and saw a squint sticker that said "Smile! Your on camera!" complete with spelling mistakes. I was done. Instead of a fireworks kiss we talked about the council.
I eat donuts once a year. That makes me sound like some kind of diet freak which if you knew how many Doritos I can fit in my mouth and how I've eaten McDonalds twice this week, once past midnight and once when I got a taxi driver to deliver it to my house, you'd know that wasn't the case. This is what makes Christmas markets so special. I get to eat those hot crispy donuts with melted Nutella on - the ones I dream about it. They were a cold American-style disappointment, of course.
Finally, we went on a ride that swings you 50ft in the air over the glittery lights of town, not only did we get skipped a couple of times but it was in the news the next day that a bit had fallen off and nearly hit a bunch of people. Well done, everyone.
The same man I shared this underwhelming Christmas experience with, invited me round to his place for some dinner. It was a bonafide Baby Jesus miracle when I got there. A regal, undecorated tree in the corner and the smell of a roast cooking in the kitchen. We decorated the tree together and when the bird was ready we had a fake Christmas dinner set with candles, crackers and party hats in front of a fire. I remembered what it was about this time of year I like so much. It's sleeping with people on a shag rug.
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