I ran into one of my six last night, while I was out for drinks with my flatmate. This wasn’t a planned ‘run into’ and although I suspected it could happen, I hadn’t really come up with a battleplan on how to act in this situation…
I reckon there are three potential variations on this:
1. Where you both are really keen to see each other post-date, there’s been loads of communication, and running into each other is a happy coincidence. This is easy – you’re both delighted to see one another, there’s no awkwardness, and you take it as a sign that something here was clearly ‘meant to be’.
2. Where you had a nice time on your date, but you’re not sure whether you want to follow up or not. There’s not clear chemistry, so when you come across each other you’re not sure what level of friendliness to adopt – do you chat at length or not? do you kiss them on the cheek when you arrive and leave? You’re not friends really, you’re not a couple, you’re not just acquaintances either.
3. Where you really hoped never to see each other again. Civility is all you can hope for here, if Britishness trumps the awfulness of your date together. Otherwise, ignorance is clearly the way forward.
I found myself in situation number 2.
We’ve been in touch post-date, but not constant contact, and, if you believe in turn-taking in texting, strictly I was waiting for him to get in touch with me. Which he hadn’t for a few days. I was feeling quite content with the idea that we would probably not have a second date.
And then he rocked up for drinks. All the guys greeted me with the double kiss (when in London etc), except this one, so we kind of said ‘Hi’ sheepishly. I might have actually waved.
Then he sat next to me, but barely spoke to me. So I started a conversation with him about something neutral – the weather, the roads, this weekend’s football results…
Frankly, I can’t be bothered with all of this and would have quite happily not made an effort to talk to him at all, but that’s both rude and potentially crushing.
As we left, there was more cheek kissing. This time he took the initiative, kissed me on the cheek and then said: ‘Call me.’ Maybe I’m a bit pre-menstrual but I was slightly outraged: I’ve texted him but he’s not texted me, he didn’t start a single conversation all night, and then he puts the onus on me to follow up our date, as if turning up to the same pub as me counts as his ‘turn’ in the post-date follow-up.
And that’s probably unkind, given the potential awkwardness of the situation, and that he might have equally felt as bewildered as to the appropriate etiquette as me.
Oh it’s all too exhausting sometimes trying to make the right decisions. Tell me, if you had a nice evening, but aren’t feeling ‘the love’ or ‘the magic’ or ‘the butterflies’ or whatever it is that drives you desperately to want to see someone again, would you call or not?