Dating Kit

Adventures of a Single Girl…

How I got myself into hot (bubbly) water on the first date

on March 7, 2015

I met Fancy Pants at the pub on a Saturday night. Nice enough guy and we exchanged numbers.

He rang the next day. HE RANG. Always a good sign of a man’s character, for me. It shows that he’s old fashioned and knows how to treat a lady. We chatted for nearly an hour and then arranged to meet up for a drink the next night in the city.

A few texts back and forth the next day while we tried to arrange where we’d meet. I don’t work in the city so it takes some coordination. It got a little tricky so we spoke on the phone again. I was saying what time I’d be finishing work and he said, “oh, I’ll probably be in the spa then, relaxing after the gym.” Big mouth here said, “oh, now I’m jealous,” having already had a long day and always being sore from one sporting activity or another. So he said, “well, why don’t you join me!” Er, well, I could hardly back out then, could I? Had he thought, I’ll try to get some bubbles into that girl, or get her into some bubbles? Who knows but just like that, our plans had changed from drinks to a swim, spa and sauna at a prestigious city fitness centre.

Once off the phone, the reality set in. Within only a couple of hours I’d be getting my gear off and hopping into a spa with a virtual stranger on a first date- in my bikini- in winter. I wasn’t sure what was worse! The spa? The stranger? The bikini? Or winter? Or maybe the patchy bottle tan that I put on days before and only on the bits that show? But, at least I knew I was all waxed up. Phew. But wait, which bikini? Sexy, stylish, classy, sporty? Argh!!!

So, after I finisSpa datehed work I had about half an hour to go home and put a bag together. It couldn’t be huge either, how would that look?! Like I’m there for an overnighter? No way. But I needed a bikini, some sort of cover up for the from change rooms to poolside promenade, thongs, and of course a change of clothes for after. He’d told me to come in whatever I’d worn to work and it’d be fine. Not bloody likely. And I was right, that place was fan-cee.

Pants looked pretty fancy too, what with his bespoke clothes and doorman pal who let us back in after he came out to collect me.

I’d asked about needing a towel and he’d said they’d provide one. Fortunately, I’m not prone to believe everything I’m told, especially when there’s the risk that I’d end up standing around mostly naked, or drying off under a hand dryer due to lack of one! So I brought a hand towel. Lucky me, because after Pants paid for and signed me in, they gave me another one. What the?! How am I to dry off with that?! Thank goodness for my cover up dress too!

The date went swimmingly, you could say, with us going back and forth between the pool, spa and sauna. Having decided to go there, I shed my inhibitions as I swished passed the doorman in my lovely winter coat, and once cloistered in that inner city oasis hideway I went with the occasion and relaxed as best I could while mostly naked with strangers.

And do you know why? Because a date is what you make of it. Sure it was unusual but why not just go with it?

(For the curious: It was followed by a delish dinner at the pub and then drinks at a bar, and then he walked me to my train station, carrying my bag, like a true gentleman.

But wait, was there a second date? Did the sight of me in my bikini in the middle of winter make Pants want to dispatch a slave to look for bigger towels to cover me up or bring him back for a second date? Time will tell, dear friends.)

Xx Kit

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