The Grown Up Part Three

After pretty much deciding that I wasn’t too fussed about The Grown up and it was probably for the best to let it lie, against my better judgement we had our third (and I really mean it this time) final date last night.

              I’m not really sure how I came to be on another date with him, but I think it may have had something to do with talking to my housemates, who all were of the opinion that it takes three dates “to know”. How anyone is meant “to know” or have an innate sense about whether something is right or not I haven’t got a clue. However, I did feel that there was no real harm in meeting up with him one more time, so we arranged to go to what he termed “musical comedy” at the Udderbelly Festival at the Southbank centre.

                He suggested without even the smallest dash of irony that we meet underneath the clock at Waterloo station. This, call me a tad judgemental, I took as another nail in the coffin for anything progressing between us. When we met and I commented on the cheesy choice of meeting place, his face clouded over and he professed he had no idea about what I meant. Worrying, very worrying indeed. Anyway, awkward greeting over, we wandered off to find some food on the Southbank.

                 We ended up in Giraffe, which I was perfectly happy about – at last, an opportunity to spend time with him in a non scary or intimidating romantic restaurant! Dinner was chimichangas, chat was continuous and easy, but soon enough we headed over for the dodgy sounding “musical comedy” show.

                   The comedy night turned out to be surprisingly very funny, in a sort of Flight of the Concords kind of way and we both really enjoyed it. But, later on the train home, I vowed that as good as evening had been, it was definitely time to draw a final line under The Grown Up. As nice as he is, we just have zero chemistry and I doubted that would change however many times we met up and he plied me with expensive meals and cocktails. I was hoping he’d feel similarly, but unfortunately a text message I received the next day, confirmed the opposite.  Oh dear.