A First First Date

It had taken Amy three days to decide what to wear. Would the sequin top be too much for a first date? Did that LBD make her look frumpy? What if she had to go to the bathroom and couldn’t get the zip back up on her jumpsuit? After much deliberation she settled on a red, floral tea dress. It was casual yet dressy and she also thought it made her boobs look great.

It had been a while since Amy had gotten excited about a first date. Since her three-year long relationship with her university boyfriend had ended, she had used a few dating apps, met a few guys and had some fun. There was that digital marketer that she met and things had gone really well. A few drinks turned into a few dates which turned into a few nights at home cooking dinner. The sex was good and they even had a few conversations about the future. And then out of nowhere the ‘I’m not in the right stage of my life for a relationship’ and the ‘I need to focus on my career’ cards were dealt to her. Was Amy heartbroken? No. Just a bit disappointed. She could have been using that time to go to that ballet barre class that she had her eye on instead of making mediocre Thai green curries from the jar. You live and you learn.

She arrived at the wine bar twenty minutes early. She hated being late, but in hindsight maybe ten minutes would have sufficed. She was definitely nervous and was even getting anxious. She ordered a large glass of merlot to take the edge off. Hopefully this would make her look sophisticated too. Amy had met Julia at a local food festival, where local restaurants could showcase tasting menus for some good press. Amy had been perusing some of the stalls with some friends when she noticed Julia, frying something in her little food truck. It looked like calamari or maybe octopus but she couldn’t tell from that far away. Approaching the truck, Amy was mesmerized by her messy, raven curls and minimalist tattoos which appeared to be inked everywhere on her petite frame. Julia looked like she belonged in an art studio painting canvases of beautiful nude models instead frying seafood. In fact, Amy was sure that she was a piece of art.

‘So, what will it be?’ Julia asked, her coca cola-coloured eyes beaming at Amy. Amy realised that she must have been staring and felt embarrassed.

‘Eh, I don’t know, what would the chef recommend?’. Amy was feeling slightly overwhelmed both by the extent of the menu and the thought of trying to impress this woman who was clearly much cooler than her.

‘Well, I am actually the owner of La Esquina, so I would recommend everything’ Julia responded with a wry smile through a faint Spanish accent. ‘The pulpo is divine however, and also my personal favourite’.

‘Pulpo it is then’ responded Amy not knowing entirely what she had ordered. Julia whipped out an octopus tentacle from somewhere and began to sear it on the grill. Whilst she was cooking, the two women made small talk. Where were they from? How did Amy become a secondary school teacher? Why did Julia choose London to open her own tapas bar? It wasn’t exactly flirting, but it was friendly and Amy felt something. She wasn’t entirely sure what that something was, but it felt nice.

‘And what’s the verdict?’ Julia asked leaning out of her food truck, looking expectantly.

‘Well now, I want to try one of everything on the menu!’ chuckled Amy. They both laughed.

‘If you’re free after school one evening, I can tell you all about our menu’ Julia asked suggestively, looking hopeful. Amy was a little taken aback. She wasn’t used to being asked out so directly. But she really wanted to go. Amy took one of her business cards and said she would send her a WhatsApp to arrange a day. Julia said that sounded great. They both wished each other a good weekend. And Amy went back to find her friends.

At the age of thirty-two, Amy was worried about being judged for experimenting or attention seeking. But this wasn’t a ‘stage’ and she knew that she had been attracted to women since she was a teenager. She remembers having a small crush on a girl called Sarah when she was fifteen. Sarah was sporty and part of the athletics team. Popular and naturally very pretty. Amy then found out that her boyfriend was on the football team. Amy eventually got over it, like most teenagers do. Yet for some reason she had never found herself in a relationship with a girl. Maybe she just hadn’t met the right person. Or maybe she had never fully come to terms with her sexuality. She had met many amazing, beautiful, inspiring women in her life but she always kept her distance. Perhaps through the fear of being rejected. Or through fear of finally realising that part of herself. She wasn’t entirely sure. Either way, it didn’t seem right coming out to the world when she had no one special to show for it.

Amy was lucky. Her family were fairly liberal and not very religious. Not overly judgmental either. But she could never be sure. She vividly remembers her aunt talking about one of her colleagues coming out to her office:

‘Really, gay people can do what they like, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest’ explained her aunt. ‘It's those ones who can’t make up their mind that I have a problem with. So very promiscuous, its vulgar’. Amy was seventeen when she heard this. And then there was her friend of a friend, Hetty, from university. Very arty and quirky. Amy didn’t know her very well but she seemed nice enough. Hetty was bisexual and remembers her being cornered by some lads and harassed at a house party in their second year. Amy wasn’t part of the incident but she could hear a few of the invasive questions. Stuff about how many threesomes she had had and when she gets bored with girls does she go back to men. Hetty seemed used to this sort of treatment and didn’t let it faze her. She merely rolled her eyes and went to get another drink. Amy, on the other hand, didn’t know if her own heart could take it.

It was nearly half past eight. Julia was very late and Amy was worried that maybe she had changed her mind. She checked her phone for a ‘sorry I won’t make it I’m sick’ or ‘I never should have agreed to this, what was I thinking’ text message. And then Amy felt childish for being so naïve and hopeful. And for playing out the date in her head a hundred times over. Maybe she should just pay for her glass of wine and leave. But then right on cue, Julia strolled into the wine bar, wearing a red coat to match her red lips that made her olive skin pop. She looked around the bar and when she spotted Amy she smiled, that warm smile that would make anyone instantly feel at ease.

‘I am SOOOO sorry!’ exclaimed Julia. ‘There was a delivery emergency at the restaurant, no Jamón would make our customers very disappointed.’ She smiled warmly at Amy and Amy instantly forgave her.

‘No worries, these things happen’ acknowledged Amy, trying to sound as casual as possible.

‘So, what are we drinking? Julia placed her hand on top of Amy’s as she asked. Amy felt safe. And happy. And as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. And she really hoped that the evening went well.