American Beauty

American Beauty polled in at date number two, she contacted me on GaydarGirls and asked if I would like to meet her for a drink sometime, and in the spirit of the 'mission' of course I said yes. We met on a Friday afternoon after work in First Out.

Miss American Beauty was late by 15 minutes, wandered in and sat directly across from me at the table.

I was nervous about Miss Beauty, her profile exuded confidence and she had the 'All American Girl' look down to a tee. As she walked down the stairs I could see that her profile didn't quite advertise the 'incredible package' of Miss Beauty. She was a 5'5, size 8, shoulder length cutting edge hairstyle, confident, fashion conscious, and simply beautiful. She was the kind of girl you see on the cover of a magazine. She was a high flying marketing exec for a prestigious blue chip company, she lived in her own flat with her special needs cat. She was confident, assertive, classy and incredibly sexy. Suddenly I felt like I was in high school again, and one of the popular girls was sitting across the table from me. I felt like my nerdy, awkward 16-year-old self, and subsequently hated myself for feeling that way.

I ordered a beer, she ordered a cider. She told me about her family, her move to the UK, her special needs cat, her parents, her work, her travel. Occasionally I got a statement or two in about me, but mostly the night was about her. I glanced at my watch while she took a comfort break and realised that only an hour had passed.

After another long hour I decided it was time to end the evening. There was no doubt that the girl was beautiful, but there was no spark. The conversation felt like a chore and it became apparent that we had nothing in common. I made an excuse about meeting a friend and we parted ways after a brief (and stiff) goodbye.

It was only 9.30 pm.