Oh he was gorgeous! Just my type: full of fun, dashing and charming. Oh boy, was he charming!
We “met” on a dating site and after two or three weeks of chatting on line, followed by hours talking to each other on the phone, we decided to meet for dinner at a mutually convenient restaurant, The Crossroads, in Weedon.
I was not disappointed when I met him in the flesh. He looked as good as his photos. He dressed nicely and he smelt divine. Yes, he was just my type.
We bantered lightly over our steak dinners and a couple of glasses of red wine. We could have no more as we were both driving. We chatted away over our coffees until closing time. We arranged to meet again the next week. Same time, same place.
The next week I was on my way down the M1 heading towards junction 16 when the traffic ground to a halt. The sign on the gantry read “Accident ahead.” Why, oh why did I leave home without charging my phone? I had no means of letting Jim know that I was stuck in a traffic jam and going to be late.
An hour later, after the carnage of the multiple pile up had been sorted enough to let the tailback move on, I arrived at the Crossroads at Weedon. There was no sign of my potential beau.
For days I tried to message him, call him, text him to explain why I was late. He ignored all my messages, and blocked me on the dating site. He never bothered to contact me again, in spite of my messages of explanation, which I knew he must have seen.
Maybe I was well rid of the one who got away!
Creative Writing a tale written in10 minutes at our September 2016 meeting
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