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  • Text from him: I'm sitting opposite the bar.

    I studied the few people sitting at the tables. Just as I turned to go and look in the other room, a man looked up and appraised me. I decided it must be my date and made my way over.

    He didn't look like his photo. In fact, he looked much, much better, someone I could possibly fancy at the time when I was feeling indifferent about the whole internet dating thing.

    We chatted easily. He was a good conversationalist. I'm somewhat deaf and didn't like asking him to repeat everything, so I nodded and smiled in what I thought were the right places. I knew I wasn't on top form, just so, so tired. I tried to put that out of my mind.

    We ended up talking quite a bit about me. Did I deflect the conversation back to him enough? Did I give too much away? Did I do ok? The answer is, I don't know. The date finished rather abruptly. When I mentioned I had to go to the toilet, he said he did too and that we could go together on the way out. Had he planned to keep the date short, I wondered?

    As we walked back to the Underground, he did mention something about a next time, but the pieces didn't fit. He didn't flirt, touch my hand or kiss goodnight. My overactive imagination busied itself trying to make sense of this. By this stage I wasn't feeling too good; I felt ill, a bit tipsy, and pretty discouraged.

    We said goodbye at the top of the stairs. I think that's all he would have said, had I not shot him an enquiring look. He responded by saying, 'we'll be in touch', and scurried off.

    So I christened him The Man Who Gave Nothing Away. I've never come away from a date before unsure if someone's attracted to me or not, so this was a first. I ddin't like the angst and I certainly didn't like playing the waiting game. Isn't it better to know where you stand from the off?
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