So. Today I went on what may or may not have essentially been a date... I'm not sure of the classification and what counts as a date and what's lunch with a friend. I had lunch with a friend and I think she is lovely. That'll kind of do for an adequate description.
Could it have gone further? Would it? I hope so. I really do hope so. I would appreciate the chance to escape this hole I appear to have fallen (been pushed?) into, and escaping not just from the humdrum life I am leading, but London itself, if only for an hour or so. But we never got to find out if it would develop any further, as - despite her taking time in lieu at the moment - she got a call from work and they demanded her time - most likely not granting any extra time off, but that is the nature of the beast.
I decided to wait. There was no real indication of how long she would be. We said a hurried goodbye, and I bought a funny book from a chairty shop, slunk into a Starbucks, order a coffee, and waited.
And waited. And waited. And waited.
It was quite relaxing, this unfamiliar coffee shop in an unfamiliar town. No ubiquitous parents, no hurried crush of the faceless masses, no wondering what to do. I had coffee (hot chocolate, panini...), I had a book and I had a nice soft chair. I read, I sipped, I dozed, I dreamt. But mostly I just kept on waiting.
Eventually it was clear that I would do better to go home and recommence another day. Tomorrow? Weekend? Evening? Whenever. I don't have a job (even though it was made all too cleaer that she does) and I am both being curious and attempting to be more adventurous - it's all part of the New Year's resolution that I attempted to make.
So I went home. She finished her work, eventually. Apparently. I hope she is OK. I hope I'm OK.
Can we pick up where we left off?
Let's find out.