Meeting my future husband... or not

Remember TCB?  We started emailing a couple of times a day while he was on a business trip in the US.  The emails got longer and longer and I’m pleased to report his grammar was excellent!  But we couldn’t meet up as he was on the other side of the Atlantic.  So we emailed, and emailed and emailed.

When he finally returned, 10 days later, we arranged to meet LATE one evening after work.  So at 9pm, I headed down to the lively South Bank in London to meet my future husband.  He was sat outside by the river.  In my mind he was perfect.  We had shared so much about ourselves in messages I felt like I truly knew him.  I sat down and gave him a knowing smile.  We’d already picked out the name of our future chocolate Labrador over email.  Hmmm, I don’t remember the balding hair from his profile picture.  He stood up to get our first ever drink together, the first of many I thought.  But wait...  He’d described himself as a little over 6 foot.  It was the reason he could never fly economy he said.  Imagine my surprise when I noticed he was barely taller than me at 5 foot 5.  When dating online you can lie about your job, or your history, but it makes absolutely no sense to lie about your appearance.

He returned after 20 minutes, yes that’s right, 20; I was battling to keep the table from passing revellers.  He got my drink right at least.  Not being too affected by the appearance thing I started the dialogue.  Future husband looked frankly annoyed and gave monosyllabic responses.  At no point did he offer up a topic of discussion or ask me a question.  Nor did he explain why he had been so chatty and interested over email but not in the flesh. 

He quickly finished his drink so I politely offered to go to the bar.  He seemed to think he was doing me the favour by staying for another.  I was half way through my second Corona when he said he had to go as he didn’t want to miss his train.  Erm, okay, this is London and the trains run about every 7 minutes.  I abandoned ship on the drink and hot footed it behind him.  He was using his short little legs with maximum efficiency and I practically had to jog to keep up. 

Then with absolutely no warning whatsoever he started to sprint. 

Those who know me, know I don’t run.  Not since the Putney Bridge incident when I ran to catch the 14 bus, didn’t factor in the incline of the bridge and ended up doing a forward somersault during rush hour traffic with such velocity my French baguette snapped in half.  My second ever internet date and future husband had literally sprinted away from me without so much as a goodbye.  This is not good for my self-esteem.  Just to make an already humiliating experience worse, I caught up with him at the traffic lights by Waterloo.  I slowed right down praying the green man would pop up and he could carry on running into the sunset.  It didn’t and I found myself standing directly behind him.  Never have I felt more awkward.

It was only when I got on my train that I realised the Putney train also stops at Virginia Waters.  I didn’t dare look up in case he was in my carriage.

I would love to have heard his side of the story but funnily enough I never heard from him again and surprisingly I didn’t pursue it.  Would love to hear anybody's thoughts on this.  Back to the drawing board or rather back to the internet...

Email from: n

Date: April 24 2013 - 22:11

Subject: hi

hi sam
how r u doing? U look well :)
Nigel x

Email from: NG

Date: April 24 2013 - 22:21

Subject: Hi

Hey,

Life just isn't fair sometimes

Nicholas

Email from: c

Date: April 24 2013 - 22:25

Subject: hi

I do :)

Email from: jv

Date: April 24 2013 - 22:31

Subject: drinks out?

hey, fancy drinks sometime?

Email from: AS

Date: April 24 2013 - 23:32

Subject: hi

i do love your smile

Email from: FI

Date: April 24 2013 - 23:58

Subject: Answer to your quiz

If the surface is so interesting then I wonder what lies beneath!