"We can meet at the White Horse Inn, about 9 o'clock?" it said in your text. "It will be busy there tonight because there's a really good band performing. I'll wait for you at the bar. I'll have a red flower in my hair."
As I leave my car in a crowded car park and walk to the entrance to the Inn. I am worried. Although we have been talking online, texting, messaging, and you seem to be everything I want in a woman, this meeting is a big deal. Will we like each other in the flesh as much as in social media?
I can hear loud, energetic rock music coming from within and that relaxes me a bit. Even if the date is a washout, I'll enjoy the music. It's going to be a good night, one way or another.
Now I'm at the door of a pretty large room. It's dark with just the flashing lights on the stage for illumination. The band must have been using a smoke machine because there is a smoky haze. The rock band's music completely fills the room, making conversation almost impossible. The room is totally crammed with bodies writhing to the beat.
On one side I see the bar. It's very busy but I spot you quickly, a red flower perched above your right ear, seated and looking at the band.. You seem totally absorbed with the band and your head and shoulders - that's all that I can see from here - sway gently to their beat.
I squeeze my way across the crowded floor until at last I am at your side. You are sitting on a bar stool and you haven't noticed me. I examine what I can see - your long, dark, wavy hair; the smooth skin of your face; the hint of a shapely body pushing out of your almost full-length woollen cardigan. A shapely knee clad in dark nylon protrudes slightly. You are, in the flesh, just as good as I had hoped you would be. I hope you feel the same when you notice me...
"Abby?" I ask timidly, leaning into your ear so that you can hear me.
You look round. A wonderful, welcoming smile lights up your face and warms my heart.
"Bob! Great to see you! I wasn't totally sure that you would turn up."
I put an arm around your shoulders to give you a hug. It just seems natural and I'm not embarrassed. You press your body against mine, still smiling and looking up at me and I can't help noticing the soft pressure of your breast against my chest. It feels nice! You ease yourself off the bar stool to stand beside me. You're just a little smaller than I am. Your cardigan is unbuttoned at the top and you are displaying the smooth tops of your breasts and the gentle valley between them.
"Wanna beer?" you shout, and in the press of the crowd your thigh presses against mine. I nod. It's easier than talking. "Two beers," you shout to the girl behind the counter. The beers arrive quickly. I reach over with a note and signal that I don't want any change.
