I met up with Jen on Monday at Que Pasa, a local bar.  The reason for meeting there was fairly simple.  When I’d suggested meeting up, Jen said yes and suggested a coffee, which is obviously my forte.  

"You suggest a time, I’ll suggest a place" I recommended.
"7.30 - After fat club"
Yep, Jen is a WeightWatchers goer.  Not that she is massively overweight, but she’s not happy with her size and joined a few weeks ago in an effort to slim down, and has since lost over a stone in 4 weeks, which I think is a huge amount for someone who’s not a big big size.
7.30 left it too late for a normal coffee shop, so Que Pasa, which I know is located in town and serves coffee, seemed to be the ideal choice.
I got there ten minutes early.  It was the first time in a long time that I’d been there when it wasn’t busy.  There were more bar staff than customers, and where it’s normally packed with punters, it was almost empty on a Monday night, making the loud, repetitive music and the leopard-print seats far more obvious than they are at a weekend.  In fact, the place looked horrible, and didn’t smell much better, but it was too late to change the venue now.
7.10pm - text received - "Might be a bit late - long que to be weighed at fat club … See you soon x"
7.18pm - text sent - "Ok, I’ve just got to town. Will see you when I see you. Good luck with the weigh in ;)"
7.20pm - text received - "Wish us fatties would move quicker - warning you I haven’t been home and look a right mess x"
7.23pm - text sent - "Can’t you casually mention that next door are selling half price Mars Bars and see if that halves the queue? And I’m sure you look fine. On the plus side, Que Pasa has a strange smell about it tonight, so if you stink, no one will know ;)"

7.39pm - text received - "Love it - just parked - walking down now c"
I’m assuming the "c" meant "x".  Either that or she was using shorthand and calling me a cunt.
She got there at around 7.45pm, which as lateness goes isn’t too bad for a woman (yes, yes, it’s a sweeping statement to make, but also a true one).  Considering she’d just left school and gone straight to WeightWatchers and then on to meet me, she looked pretty good.  I should mention that she’s a school teacher, just so that anyone reading this doesn’t get the wrong impression about me thanks to the "just left school" comment!  In fact, she looked better than I did, and I’d done nothing but alternate between moping around and spending the day in bed.
She grabbed a Diet Coke, I grabbed a coffee and we chatted.  A little while later she ordered herself a steak sandwich and ate it in that pick-at-food way that all girls tend to do when you first meet them.  
I can’t remember in detail what we chatted about, but I know we covered the usual topics - work, life, kids.  I even managed to ask the awkward questions "what do you think about tattoos and piercings", before admitting, slightly reluctantly as it turns out (after she admitted to not really liking piercings!) exactly what I’d had pierced and responding to the "Did it hurt?" question with "of course it bloody hurt!" and then describing how a twenty stone, bald and highly tattooed man pushed a needle through my very limp and shrivelled cock, just seconds after announcing that it may hurt a little.  Hardly first date conversation, but there you go.
I found out that she likes horror films, works late due to being head of science, plays netball, wanted to join the army but was not able to due to a knee injury and that she had black marker pen on her little finger which, in the dark, I’d mistaken for some kind of a mole.
Eventually she said that she needed to make a move home and we said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and made our way off.  We’d been chatting for about 2 hours, and although there didn’t seem to be that natural spark about the conversation, we seemed to get on well.  She was attractive, intelligent and cheeky, even though she described herself as boring (and backed this up by admitting to liking photography and butterflies, for goodness sake!) which again leads me to believe we don’t have a great deal in common.  I figured I’d leave it a couple of days before trying to arrange anything concrete in the way of a second date.  
As we said goodbye, Jen asked me to text her when I was home to let her know that I’d gotten home safely.
"You know I only live down the road?" I asked, "The chances of something happening to me between here and there are slim!"
"I know, but it saves me from worrying." she replied.
I agreed that I’d text her, but that she should do the same when she got home, and two minutes later, once I’d walked through the dark car park, I dropped her a quick text:
10.05pm - text sent - "I know you worry, so just to let you know I got to the car ok ;)"
10.16pm - text received - "Cheeky git! I’m home - thanks for a nice evening"
10.18pm - text sent - "I’m home too. And thank you for a nice evening too, I didn’t realise it was so late (sorry!) x"
10.25pm - text received - "And it’s a school night too!!! Sweet dreams x"
10.26pm - text sent - "I know. My bad. Maybe do a non school night if you fancy doing it again? Night you x"
10.29pm - text received - "Sounds like a plan … Night x"
11.26pm - Facebook wall comment sent - "Are you still up? LOL - Amityville Horror’s on tv you know 😛"
11.27pm - Facebook wall comment received - "Watching csi instead - shaved off those sideburns yet?"
11.30pm - text sent - "Not yet (giving up on Facebook, which is why you’re getting a text). Considering cutting them down tomorrow. Maybe. :P"
11.32pm - text received - "Cut them down - no! - shave them off - yes!"
11.33pm - text sent - "Sheesh! What’s it worth? ;)"
11.34pm - text received - "Not getting laughed at in the street - that’s got to be worth it :)"
11.35pm - text sent - "People laugh subtley, I barely notice it. Besides I could always just draw marker pen on my hand to draw attention away from them."

A couple of days later I text Jen again and we made concrete plans to meet up and go bowling next Monday, which I’m looking forward to but wondering whether conversation will flow or if it will be stilted.  Whatever happens, hopefully it’ll be fun.

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