Glass of water (part two)

I would trade interesting and dangerous for wholesome and boring with a sour smile upon my face. My family would be so happy for me. Finally my life would mean something and they would know it, a nice sturdy, trustworthy, boring, cardboard bloke to spend the rest of my life with, I could hardly wait.A boring bloke with no hang ups. We would probably go on weekends to Bath, camping holidays in matching cagoules, go hiking in the summer. Listening to radio4 both in checked shirts, drinking green tea waiting for our home made bread to bake, not really saying anything just with meaningful smiles on our faces.

So I set off on my second date dressed in a checked shirt and cagoule.We had arranged to meet up at Albert’s memorial in Hyde Park, I had no idea where this was, and just stupidly thought it might be on the map of the park on my arrival, I was wrong.I was also late. I telephoned my date on my arrival to the park to ask for directions and after three blusterously windy telephone calls I was still none the wiser as to where he was. I was now walking by the lake following a curious bunch of elderly people being taught how to roller skate by an extremely posh girl with a pink helmet on explaining, “Its not natural to skate, of course you’re going to be nervous.”

Hyde Park is a strange place on the weekend, some alternative universe happening all over it, all I knew was I didn’t want any part of it.A couple more texts and a phone call and we met up an hour later than we were supposed too. I could laugh this off as part of my hilarious ditzy personality. He on the other hand didn’t find it as amusing, after spending about ten more minutes with this guy, I knew it was all over!In the cold harsh light of day, without the crutch of alcohol, I realised he had all the personality and charm of a glass of water. Indeed a glass of water can be quite pleasant at first sip on a hot summers day, however it does lose its appeal after the second or third gulp in which it just becomes tedious, tasteless and boring, not unlike my date.At least we had a focus; we were going to see the Derek Jarmen exhibition at the Serpentine Gallery. I had realised that this wasn’t going to work out because of the tone of his dull conversation.

Any sexual feelings I had for him had dissolved into hatred of every detail of his appearance. In this situation I still try to enjoy what the day had to offer and I escape into my own mind almost like going out on ones own, with company.We walked straight into the film area where we watched an interesting documentary on Derek Jarmin, his works and his life. I was so thankful to be able to watch this film as it meant he couldn’t talk to me and I could lose myself in the screen.After it finished I was sucked back into the boring present, we walked out of the gallery and picked up where we left off with our awkward conversation. I privately disagreed with everything that he said about the film and Derek Jarmin but instead of challenging this I smiled through gritted teeth and said yeah a lot.We left the Gallery and headed for the café. This was a high alert situation for me as I knew that there were two cafes in the park, one of which was a low risk easy affair and the other which was my worst nightmare realised.One, situated by the pool, is quite unpopular which I like. It is more of a snack bar that sells simple foods like triangle sandwiches with no taste and hot brown drink rather tea or coffee, and there is always somewhere to sit.

This is a place I can cope with; available seating and hardly any choice of foods are high on my list when looking for a suitable café. Its just a more pleasant experience for an extremely neurotic person who suffers from many undiagnosed mental health issues.The other café is always really busy, there is never any were to sit, I can never find the cutlery section, its always too noisy and hot, no air conditioning, too much choice, small children, animals, local farms, a zoo, knives hanging from the ceilings and mini explosions and small civil wars happening. Also you always feel like you should leave and that you’re being rushed. You can’t enjoy your meal. The whole experience drives me into a strained panic.Well, the glass of water I was on a date with insisted on going to the latter café of course. My heart sank, what was I going on about was my second thought, it’s just a café, what could be so terrible. What’s the worst thing that could happen? I knew I was lying to myself as these thoughts passed through my mind. I could tell my nerves were getting the better of me, I wanted to leave and make my excuses, but I didn’t want to seem rude and I did want a cappuccino!As we approached the café a feeling of panic began to come over me, my palms began to sweat and I began to have palpitations as I could see the roaring crowds inside.

He was completely oblivious to this and was half way through telling me a second story of why he had fallen out with his best friend and all the whys and were for’s.I hadn’t seen him so passionate about anything before. It was an odd topic to discuss with someone who didn’t know the third party and with someone who you are on a second date with. This kind of moaning is surely only allowed maybe after the 14th meeting. It was exciting to see him enthused about something even if the subject was negative. I realised then that glass of water seemed to have a par excellence for moaning that I admired.I was kind of past caring or really listening to what he was saying with other things on my mind, like my nemesis, the approaching café and also the weather conditions. The tension was escalating. I became frantic about the seating in the café.There was no seating, I could see that. Yes, no seating at all.

My blood pressure was rising higher and higher.I looked outside the café which was virtually empty. Thank goodness. I began to breathe again, it’s all ok, we can sit outside, yes, we can sit outside, and all is well. I focused back to glass of water’s dulcet tones when disaster stuck, rain. Little drops at first, then a full on freak storm. We rushed to the café to keep dry as did every other bastardo in the park.We walked in. The café place was heaving. What a rabble! I could no longer hear anything glass of water was saying as my nerves were at an all time high which makes my hearing go. I stood there stuck to the floor trapped with fear of what was to come. Glass of water shoved a tray into my hand “let’s queue up and get some food he said”Was he mad! Was he completely mad!