A year in people #59 – the definitely not a date guy

A few years ago after I got divorced there was a man (DC) who used to ask me out a lot. I kept saying no. I gave him credit for his persistence, but my answer was always no (just didn’t fancy him and I wasn’t interested in dating).

One night, we’d all been out somewhere and he said he’d give me a lift home. I said OK. He had a wry smile on his face and I jokingly told him that he better not try anything.

I remember being really tired and just wanting to go home. I’m sure I had a race or something the next day. I wasn’t drinking, but I hadn’t driven either.

“Can we stop by McDonalds on the way back? I just want to get some food.” He asked.

Ohmigod FFS I’m so tired. “I don’t suppose I have a choice do I? After all, you’re driving.” I replied wearily.

“HA! Not really.” He smiled. “Do you like my car?”

He had a flash car. I had been slightly into cars at one point in my life, when I was married to a car fanatic. That interest disappeared when I got divorced. “Meh. It’s a car. I don’t really care.” He looked offended. “I mean yes, DC, sure.”

“0-60 in [however-many-I-don’t-care] seconds, look.” He wheelspan off the roundabout and up the road.

Oh hooray! I’m in a car with a 17 year old boy, I thought as I rested my head against the window dreaming of my bed.

We sat in Tritton Road McDonalds in Lincoln at around midnight on a Friday or Saturday night, surrounded by either drunk students or 15 year old youths. I got McChicken nuggets. Or chicken McNuggets. Which way round is that anyway? I think he got a burger.

Surprisingly, despite the ambience of drunken shouting we actually had quite a good chat. Get him away from other people and his bravado dropped, he stopped acting like a 17 year old boy and was a bit more serious and stopped trying to ask me out. I can’t remember exactly what we talked about, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I still didn’t want to go out with him though.

A day or two after, I get a message from one of my friends. “How was your date with DC?”

“Eh?” I sent back.

“DC says you went on a date.”

FFS. Right. Of course he did.

Obviously we didn’t. Our mutual friends knew that we didn’t, and so it became a pisstake that DC took me to McDonalds on a date and regularly mentioned. After that he started to deny it, said he was never interested in me and unfriended me on Facebook some time after. The ultimate burn.

 

 

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