Updated: Jan 13, 2022
Two months passed without any contact or communication between Edward and myself after my, ”I don’t know if this is a date, but I’m going to push my agenda anyway” encounter with him. This was partly due to the open company classes being finished at the studio for the Christmas and New Year season. As a result, I didn’t get back to practicing at the Tripsichore Headquarters until early February. And when I show up for that first practice no communication about either topics took place between us, and for reasons I wasn’t sure of, I was afraid to ask. From what Edward had said back in December, I knew that the company would still be performing their current show for their Spring 2007 Tour, so, in the back of my mind I thought it would be wise to just wait and see what happens when the summer months start to roll in. On my way home from that first class, to my surprise, Edward rang my mobile and asked me out to dinner that evening. “What is this?” I asked point blank. “Well, dinner I hope.” He responded. The Universe’s enrolment procedures for its emotional development courses it signs one up for are so on point. Because, at that moment I was on the rebound of two failed dating attempts over the past Christmas Season. One was with my ex who in reality was trying to get back with me in the most non committal way possible, and the second was with a random handsome guy I met while shopping in Canary Wharf. The random, whose name escape me, so let’s call him Dick, asked me out to the movies. It turned into a complete bust. We ended up going to see “Apocalypto”. Trust me, as great as that movie is, as a first date choice, it’s a killer. I remember feeling all the attraction and chemistry slowly fizzle out as we sat next to each other in the cinema watching the horror of the decline of the Mayan Empire. The movie’s story of the superficialness of humanity exposed my Karen Millen bandage dress and full face of MAC Makeup as cheap parlour tricks, and left me feeling embarrassed, barely clothed, and very uncomfortable. At the end of the movie instead of going out for dessert, we awkwardly said our “Goodbyes” outside the cinema and I walked back to my flat self-consciously pulling at the stiff Lycra fabric of my bandage dress’ neckline to try and convince it to cover up more of my cleavage. I blame Mel Gibson. This is the second time that a Mel Gibson movie has done me wrong. The exact same thing happened when I was living in L.A. and on a first date with a handsome bartender we went to see “The Passion of The Christ.” Both times, amazing movies. Both times, attraction killed. Both times, never saw him again after. I did score with the ex though. But who wouldn’t after a recent breakup, and as an attempt to salvage a friendship you agree meet up for drinks, and deliberately drink one too many. So you see, in the wake of those experiences, Edward’s invite to dinner felt like a “Why the hell not!” moment. So, that evening he took my long journey from Canary Wharf to Tripsichore Headquarters in reverse. We met at Cabot Square for dinner at a cosy little bistro that was chucked full of bankers. My expectations were low as I was still confused about what his intentions were, so I just thought I’d roll with whatever happens. What happened was, we ended up going back to mine after.