First Dates

First Dates - A Short Story

It's taken me twenty minutes of trying on my red, floral midi dress or my plain blue plunge dress to decide which once which will hopefully make me feel that bit more confident when meeting my blind date tonight. I hold the dresses up to my body and decide on the red. Red with my brown hair is usually a good combination.


It was all my work colleague's fault. She applied on my behalf to go on the hit Channel 4 show First Dates. She said I'd be great on camera and it would be a laugh to do. First Dates premise is where two people who are hoping to find love are set up on a blind date which is filmed in the beautiful St Paul's restaurant in central London.

Two weeks after we applied, I got a call back from a researcher and had a thirty minute phone conversation, before a Skype call where I was then selected for a screen test and was given the all clear to actually go on the date. Now tonight, I have to hope that the restaurant of love is going find me some romance or at least a good old fashioned snog at the end of the date.

Because it has been a while. It's been a few months since I've been in the company of a man who finds me vaguely attractive, let alone wanting to kiss me with unabashed lust.

After making my way to St Paul's, I jump out of my taxi and begin being filmed by the film crew. That's the catch with this restaurant, it's all for a TV show. It's true many people have found love on there, but there are also some awful dates I've watched which made me feel that bit better about being single after all.

'Ah, Polly, you look absolutely beautiful,' Fred, the suave, French maitre'd says, warmly welcoming me to the First Dates restaurant. Glancing down at my outfit, I'm pleased I've received this reaction. My red dress is skimming me in all the right places and my heels are giving me that extra bit of height to elongate my legs.

'Thank you, Fred,' I reply with a smile. Carefully, I take my jacket off and hand it over to him before settling myself at the famous bar where all the dates wait anxiously for their blind date.

This. Is. Terrifying.

It doesn't help that there are cameras around the whole restaurant to catch every glance, every look and every movement for their show. After glancing down the drinks menu, I order myself a cocktail and anxiously tap my fingers against the marble surface.

'A French Kiss,' the bar man places my drink down and asks me the questions that he always asks. 'What brings you here? Are you local? What do you do for a job?' I amiably answer the questions before I hear my name being called.

'Polly?'

I glance over my shoulder upon hearing my name and my jaw slowly drops before I catch myself and try not to look as gobsmacked as I actually am.

'Fox,' I say and standing by the door, greeting Fred, is my ex boyfriend from uni.

It's been three years. Three years since we were together. Three years since that awful fight. Three years since I walked out on him.

Shit.

I tentatively stand up and let him kiss both of my cheeks in a polite manner, but I'm still unsure of what to say. Fox doesn't look too sure either. His eyes are wide and twinkling, his left dimple showing as he looks between Fred and myself.

'What are the chances,' he says, with an awkward, gruff laugh following his statement. He sits on the bar stool and looks back at me and just moves his hands in an expressive manner.

He distracts himself orders a drink from the menu. While the barman does his thing, Fox focuses his whole attention on me and falters. He skims his eyes all over my body and exhales.