Is this a date?

I push open the door to the venue of my “not sure if this is a date” date. I’m met with ambient jazz music, light but seemingly sophisticated chatter from the other patrons and the intermittent clinking of wine glasses. I’m quite flattered that he thinks I’m refined enough to invite me along for a wine tasting but, then again, he did invite me last minute and in the place of a mate. This isn’t the first time he has invited me to something though, it’s just the first time I’ve been able to make it.

“You’ll enjoy it anyway” my friend mused when I asked her if she thought it was a date or not. She’s right, let’s just enjoy tonight.

I scan the room, he still isn’t here. I begin to fumble through my bag looking for my phone to let him know I have arrived when I hear a voice behind me.

“Hi, you made it!” I turn to greet him and he looks a bit flustered, even a bit nervous, with his unkempt hair and crooked collar poking out of a green jumper. I look down and see a bright portrait of Santa Claus grinning on his stomach.

“I like your jumper” I respond.

“Thanks! Thought I’d get into the Christmas spirit a little early this year” he smiles.

“I like your jumper too…. you look nice” he continues whilst raising his right hand to rub the back of his neck bashfully while I stare at the tiny strip of stomach that has become visible due to the motion of his arm. Wait, he said I look nice, does this mean it IS a date? I look down at my own outfit of choice. It is made up by a thick, red, knitted jumper and black embroidered jeans. I had chosen a casual outfit to suit both potential scenarios I was walking into.

“Thanks, I call this my labia jumper!” I reply without thinking. Why the fuck did i say that?!

He looks back, slightly stunned. “Um, why?” he laughs nervously.

“Oh, um, well...one time I was reading cosmo with my friends, just stupid shit y’know? And um we were looking at the dating section and it said that men like it when women wear red because it reminds them of vaginas” I manage to stammer.

“And, well, haha, I thought it would be funny to start referring to my red clothes as different parts of the vulva” I continue, blushing furiously. I guess I should refer to my own face as a clitoris according to my own stupid joke. And now I have just realised that by mentioning the dating section of cosmo he might think that I am wearing this jumper because I think this is a date and even if this IS a date, what a weird thing to do and then ADMIT to doing! Ugh, at this stage we aren’t even going to be friends.

“Well, normally I call it a glass of Merlot but would you like a glass of labia wine? We are at a wine tasting after all” he smiles while I breathe a sigh of relief. I haven’t weirded him out too much.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Did you know that Merlot means little black bird in French?” he hiccups. We have both had a few glasses at this point, giggling and slurring still after most other guests have left. I still haven’t figured out if this is a date or not, but who cares? This is fun.

“Hey!” he starts abruptly.

“Do you want to see my pokemon card collection?!” he asks me enthusiastically. He is so cute when he is excited.

“Hell yeah!” I gush back whilst standing up forcefully, knocking my stool over in the process. I think the venue staff are just about done with our drunken tomfoolery so now seems as good a time as ever to leave anyways.

“Sweet, I live just upstairs” he says, as he grabs my hand and leads me out, his palm feeling soft and course at the same time. When I enter his room I am met with a sweet musk made up of both incense and hash, perfectly fitting for a man who is about to show me his pokemon card collection. Hopefully his pokemon card collection isn’t a euphemism, I know I don’t know if I want this to be a date or not but I’m expecting to see pikachu, not have a peek at you, if you catch my drift.

“Here it is!” he calls out excitedly. He brings up a dusty old cardboard box onto his desk and opens it to reveal what is indeed hundreds of pokemon cards, neatly stacked on top of one another.

“Wow, that’s quite a lot!”

“Yeah, it’s mainly cards. I would have a cooler collection if it wasn’t for all the scalpers.”

“What are scalpers?”

“Oh, they are just these people that buy up a load of product when it is initially released and then sell it on for ---”

“Urgh, I hate people like that!” I interrupt and his eyes widen slightly.

“They think they are so clever too” I continue. “Just because you have figured out the concept of supply and demand doesn’t make it moral, like, we’ve all fantasised about kicking an old lady’s walking stick out from under her for the sheer thrill of it but only an arsehole would actually do it!”

I look back at him whilst I recover from my impassioned outburst. He looks like a dear caught in headlights, oh fuck, did I scare him? Maybe he just likes quiet girls, girls without opinions, maybe he mistook my awkward shyness for docility? Well, if that’s how he likes his women then this is most certainly not a date!

“Can I kiss you?” he croaks.

Okay, this is a date.