The One With The Pilot

This one is a good example of how great expectations can turn into deflated balloons in an instant. Now I’m a girl who loves a guy in uniform. A suit will do as well. You know this air of authority and the assumption that they know how to save the world. Well kind of. You know what I mean.

So I was chatting to this pilot, not just one for some airline flying drunk Brits to Magaluf oh no, one in the service of Her Majesty – it had adventure and excitement written all over for me. He was a keen texter too, even called me a couple of times (with a voice to die for I admit) and knew exactly what to write/say to the girl to make her swoon a little.

We arranged a lunch time date in a country pub, a little off the beaten track. Now this guy wasn’t my usual tall, dark and handsome either, but he had something. Until we met that was. Now one thing I cannot stand is when guys exaggerate. Be it about their height, or amount of hair or prowess in the bedroom, just tell me how it is and we’re good. Make yourself bigger, better, taller and a sex god and Houston, we have problem.

The first problems arose in the car park when we both happened to arrive at the same time. Richthofen was nowhere near as tall as he claimed to be, so even in my moderate heels, I was half a head taller. And he looked good ten years ago. An up to date WhatApp picture would have been nice. I did manage to hide my disappointment; maybe he was at least able to provide stimulating conversation – and a free lunch.

As it turned out, we encountered the oh so well known issue of real life vs. text conversation. Face to face his talk was nowhere near as smooth and witty and entertaining than it had been in texts or even on the phone. Go figure the latter though.

He did like to talk though. Mainly about himself at that. Never mind I was busy with lunch anyway. I added dessert as well, But I think that was sheer desperation. This was one of the situations when having kids can be a life saver. I was quite bored and not really interested. Richthofen had let the side down big time. So I conveniently remembered the school run I had to do in a bit. He seemed a little disappointed. But just ever so little.

He walked me back to my car and I think he was overcome by a bit of a Mr Darcy moment because he tried to passionately kiss me good bye. Do you remember those really bad and awkward first kisses you wish you would have been drunk enough for them to be entirely erased from your memory? Worse. Than. That. Seriously.

He texted me the next day to inform me that he didn’t feel the spark between us and he needed a passionate woman in his life so I was out. I couldn’t have agreed more.

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