Meeting an ex-colleague for dinner after not seeing them for months, especially one whom you think -and it’s just a smidgen of a possibility here - likes you, is a lot more difficult that you think, especially when said person also happens to be an ex-boss.
I met him last night for what was meant to be drinks and then turned to dinner, (at a ridiculously expensive restaurant), in Soho.
Having hibernated in my secluded flat for months, the first outing of this nature required an enormous amount of effort on my part, just to appear effortlessly smooth. I bought fat-burning creams, did hundreds of push ups, new make-up, new better-fitting jeans (whose hems had to be hand-sewn after the sewing machine needle broke on me, mid jean leg), layers of sexy knitwear as opposed to chunky, warm clothes (I am so glad that for some unexplained reason I did not freeze), and a fake, totally-at-ease, joie de vive attitude.
It turned out alright, I guess. The food was scrumptious, the service commendable, the company a bit laboured, but good conversation flowed and for a change I felt really comfortable.
Don’t get me wrong, I, do not fancy him, but would like to keep the friendship which, with these type of men, is very difficult, because we are very compatible, in many ways, and that old saying about men and women not being able to be friends without sex getting in the way makes me wonder about whether it relates to people like us.
I got a text from him today saying how much he enjoyed last night and we should do it again sometime.
Verdict? I don’t effing know! Not a clue.
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