We met at the Town Hall over a lemonade before dinner in Balmain on the Saturday of The Weekend. I joked around with the bartender, talking whilst I waited for him, about going easy on the lemonade, but The Gardener didn't find it so funny when he got there.
Dinner was nice (see The Ambulance Chaser).
He was nice. Really nice.
Cricket was this guys life. This works well for me - I love the cricket, and good thing too, otherwise we wouldn't have had a thing to discuss. Except maybe the dog.
He was a placid fellow. Nice, oh, so nice.
He bought John Butler tickets for second date on a whim based on a random comment I made about liking a song... I couldn't make it that night, nor could I cancel the commitment I had. He went anyway... on his own.
We did make date #2. He wouldn't eat seafood, chinese, (actually make that asian food of any type), or anything spicy. Basically, the guy lived on pasta.
We had a nice evening.
He dropped me home, even snuck in a kiss, and I remembered what it was like to have someone to come home with... but that faded as soon as it appeared as I got my keys, wished him farewell, and headed to bed.
I remember my neighbour telling me, as The Gardener has picked me up "You're going to eat him alive". She was right, I would have.
I remember emailing him, using The Template to end it. He sent me back a sweet, but slightly broken email. I felt bad, he was so lovely, so nice.
I honestly hope he has found the woman of his dreams, she'll be a spoilt and very loved woman.
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