Wednesday 25 April 2007

Please Excuse the Mess

If someone knows of a service where it is possible to rent a flat exactly like yours, preferably in the same building as yours, with all your stuff, and clean, please do let me know.

Last night, on our second date plus 10 months, The Fig wanted to come back to mine. This will not exactly come as a shock to anyone who has ever seen my office -- I had to tell him the flat was a disaster.

“I don’t care,” he said.

“You don’t understand -- it’s not girl messy,” I said. “We’re not talking one pillow out of place and nail polish on the coffee table and a few dishes in the sink. It’s seriously messy.”

“I’ll give you a 10-minute head start,” he said.

“I’d need about 10 hours,” I said, thinking that even 10 hours wouldn’t be enough.

“How bad could it be?” The Fig asked. “Is there grime?”

I thought of a date I had years ago, in DC, where I couldn’t invite someone home because the place was a mess. I can still hear my friend A. laughingly yelling at me: “Next time you go out on a date, clean your place up first, OK?” Occasionally I think about her words when I’m heading out on a date, but I’m superstitious.

I tried to impress upon The Fig that this was not a rejection – that this was no ordinary mess, but how to explain that my flat is junk shop meets sample sale meets frat house… meets, I don’t know, condemned without actually using those words?*

*For the record: It’s not that I like living this way – it’s just that I’m busy, and I come home and look at it all and just sigh.

* * *

Also last night, on our American-style date, The Fig and I discussed very British dates – four plus rounds of alcohol, no food, bill split evenly down the middle.

“It’s called going Dutch,” he said, making a face at me.

“I don’t know why,” I said. “It ought to be called going British.”


* * *

Yesterday a woman in my office told me I was looking really well.

“I’ve lost three stone,” I said.

She looked shocked. “You never looked like you had three stone to lose.”

I have plenty of photographic proof that says otherwise, but nice to hear, anyway.

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