Thursday, 20 January 2011

From Russia With cold

I finally had my date with Mr Dimitri. 
This time no snow came between us and our date, even if the air was cold. Well at least for me, as my Siberian date seemed rather comfortable with the chill of the night.

Whilst arranging our date he had offered that we meet at a French restaurant in Chiswick. Although, after checking the place on the internet, it seemed like a fantastic place, I wasn't sure I was ready to take the risk of being stuck with someone potentially uninteresting for a couple of hours in exchange for a good meal (and this could be reciprocal). So I suggested we first meet for coffee and see how it goes from there.

I checked how long it would take me to get there and leave just on time, only to find myself stuck in massive traffic on the slip road accessing the motorway a few minutes later. Thankfully Mr Dimitri is not very familiar with Chiswick and got himself lost on his way to the coffee house.
I see him passing my car as I finish parking, at least I assume it is him. He is rushing towards where I believe the cafĂ© to be, he looks like his picture and is carrying an attachĂ© case. I feel a bit reassured that I am not too late. I get into the Starbucks just as he is paying for his drink, so I quickly jump in and order my peppermint tea, oddly served in a paper cup. As I look around us I realise that chairs are being put away and counters are being emptied and cleaned. Not a good sign. It's barely one degree outside and, despite the heating in my car and my gloves, my fingers are white and frozen. The last thing I need is to be asked to leave the warmth I have just found and settled in. My fingers, tightly wrapped around my hot cup, have barely recovered their natural colour when one of the staff makes her way to each table to remind us that they are indeed about to close and could we please finish our drinks.

He is very apologetic suggest that we move onto the restaurant he had originally suggested. We pop into my car for the short drive down the road. Luckily, the restaurant is not fully book and they manage to give us a nice table. He is friendly, nice to look at  and speaks perfect French, only a few words give away a slight hint of his Russian accent. We talk about everything and anything. He has travelled quite a bit and lived in very opposite words, Russia, USA, France. I am curious, as always and ask him a lot of questions about growing up in Siberia, leaving in St Petersburg, the rationing, the cold, the snow. Ask him how he ended up in the US and then in France. To top it all the meal was gorgeous.
By the end of our date I realise that 4 hours have gone by. It's time to say goodbye, go home and reflect.
This was almost 2 weeks ago. Since then we exchanged a few text and he has checked up my Match profile on a regular basis but he hasn't asked me out and, to be honest, although I did enjoy his company, he didn't rock my boat. I would see him more as a friend than a potential boyfriend.
I suppose, even I missed out on a Russian lover, I will still have From Russia with Love to listen to...

Wednesday, 12 January 2011

Date with the snowman

Before Christmas I was meant to have two dates, one with Mr Dimitri, a French Russian I met on Match, the other with Mr Windsor. On the day of my dates Christmas decided to come early and it didn't just snow, the smudge of a snow we would usually have, no, it was more like a mini blizzard. I had to drive a friend to the station and could barely see where I was going. Another friend left my house in the morning to get back to hers, 45 minutes away from mine, and only got there 8 hours later and after someone came to rescue her with a 4x4!
As you can imagine it kind of put a damper on my plans. I called both Mr Dimitri and Mr Windsor to explain that due to the snow, and to my car not being built for it, I had to postponed until... the New Year.
I was lucky enough to have my parents visiting for 2 weeks over Christmas and New Year and obviously I didn't see myself leaving them at home whilst I went on date with strange men (for my fervent follower, you know who you are Mr O., I have to assume they are strange until proven otherwise, it's for my own safety ;-)
And so, I am starting the New Year with two dates, one last week with Mr Dimitri (details to follow), the other one on Friday with Mr Windsor.
Happy New Year to you all!


A few weeks ago I met my friend's husband for dinner. He was in London for business and fancied the best curry in town. Luckily I lived near some of the best Indian restaurants in the country.
As previously mentioned, he is one of my fervent followers and we already discussed my harsh reporting of my dates back in Paris as well as the lost of my accent, and as we chatted over some papadum he comes back to my French accent or, to his ears, the lack of it.
I have now lived in the UK 13 years and have picked up the British accent, often to the disappointment of my dates when they first hear my voice. He truly believes that, should have had cultivated my French accent a bit more, I would be able to use it to charm any man. But I don't quite see how I can revert back, especially since most of my friends think I sound like the worst fake French accent when I put it on. I even cheer the French rugby team in English!
I think this is a loose/loose situation. Never mind, I can always use the card of my genuine French kissing abilities!