Chapter Eight - 'Chemistry'

Dating in London can be a mine field. There are so many people, the options are limitless both for you and your would be suitors. There are of course pros to this conundrum; as with an abundance of frogs surely you will eventually find your prince and vice versa a lady in a pair of well fitting glass Louboutins. But for the most part you are likely to have to deal with the frontline of social awkwardness that is meeting someone for a minimum couple of hours and deciding if there is ‘chemistry’ between you both to grab at the very least a pizza express before heading home to the nearest tube. Even if on a first date there are enough electrons buzzing to split an atom, how do you know if your date is genuine with the feelings completely mutual and any intentions (however amorous) honourable?  To her horror, he returned from the bar carrying a full bottle of red wine and two glasses and with what now seemed like a caddish twinkle in his eye. She was definitely in trouble now, she thought to herself looking at this handsome man as he poured her a glass of delicious looking Tempranillo and murmured the magic words ‘I’ve ordered a cheese plate’. As she sipped her drink slowly and wolfed down the incredibly soft oozing cheese in front of her, relieved she wasn’t drinking on an empty stomach, she felt herself relax and her guard drop once again. ‘This might be a bit too good to be true’ she thought ‘but I’m having too good a time to leave just yet…’