I've been on a few first dates recently where each guy invited me to his flat. On one of these, I was being set up by my friend and her boyfriend (they're a "we're happy, you should be too" couple) so I had no idea what he was like. But I went along with it because the man in question made some incredible food and had an old record player plus all the kind of vinyl I like. Give or take Paul Simon.
The first time I went round he had a white shirt on. Being a sucker for that, I decided I was there for the night. Even when I did the whole "I should go" thing, I said it while kicking my heels further under the couch. That's the power a good white shirt has over me. Waiters, dentists, butchers, data input assistants - if you fill out a shirt right, I'm going to ruin stuff for you.
A few nights later, I turned up and he had a garish fair-isle onesie on. He's a big bloke and it shocked me to my inner core. "I didn't think you'd actually come". Yes you did, dickhead. I text you from the cab.
He made a big fuss about how he was considerate enough to switch the heating on for me. To be fair, I have broken up with people I've really liked because the cold has made me go insane.
My flatmate informed me her boyfriend burst into tears the other day because the temperature in our flat is like being in a 3rd floor desert. He couldn't think properly, let alone sleep through it.
He touched my thermostat once which I was furious about, in the way I've heard that dads get like. My dad didn't live with us growing up so I'm just my own father now, which is weird. Anyway, I'd go without food before I go without heating so, in a way, it's good that my date put the radiators on especially for me.
The problem lies with how coupley you become very quickly being inside someone's home. It's all sweet and nice snuggling up while I make him dub an entire muted Hitchcock film for my amusement but a week and a half later, I find myself far too comfortable with him despite the fact I have no idea how he behaves in public. I'm going to try and coax him out this week, maybe with a tenner on a fishing line with "for gas" written on in marker.
Sadly, I'll be able to see the exact second he stops trying to impress me. It'll be when he turns his heating off and says the immortal words "why don't you just put a jumper on?".
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