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.
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.
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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