Friday

The Dating Game (494 Words) by @JamaaLlamaa

The divorce had been acrimonious and drawn out, not to mention bloody embarrassing ~ what IS the social etiquette for explaining your husband has run off with some slapper he met in a Swingers Club for God's sake?   

Now, a year after the Decree Absolute had hit the door mat Megan decided the time was right to take a step back into the world of dating. She had a look at what was on offer, spending an evening trawling dating sites (who knew you be so specific in your preferences?) and finally settled on www.happilyeverafter.com, despite the Disneyesque name she felt comfortable enough to pay her six month subscription and plunge into the murky world of internet dating.

 Three days later she was feeling like an old hand at this lark ~ sixteen winks, four nudges and two direct messages offering to take her to heaven and back, no strings attached, but don't tell the wife. She started talking with three different guys and, after a reasonable period of time agreed to meet one.   

Tom was about her age with shaggy brown hair, honest blue eyes and a respectable amount of emotional baggage. They had talked on the phone several times, and he seemed like a decent guy with a warm, slightly wicked sense of humour. They agreed a meeting, following the rules of internet dating it was a daytime meet in a popular coffee shop in a nearby town.   

Megan arrived five minutes early, secured a seat that allowed her a direct view of the door without being immediately visible. The coffee shop was quiet, a few couples and the obligatory mad eyed, toothless bag man in the corner who insisted on nodding and winking in her direction ~ sighing she ordered a coffee (Single shot vanilla latte, it sounded a bit quirky without going all out bonkers) and settled in to wait.   

Half an hour later she was quietly seething, it would appear she had been stood up, how bloody rude was that? Tom hadn't seemed the flaky type she thought, but then again her ex-husband hadn't seemed the type to run off with the tattooed tart he'd shagged on a plastic sheet in Southend, so what did she know?   

Admitting defeat she stood up and got ready to leave. Collecting her bag and coat she leant over to pick up her cup's "Megan?"  

The voice behind her was soft and warm, and she stopped in her tracks. So he had finally made it she thought, better late than never. She smiled as she thought of his blue eyes waiting anxiously for her to turn round. 

"Megan, it IS you, I, er, didn't recognise.. I mean, you look different to.." Tom's voice trailed off as he looked at the short, dumpy, unkempt woman in front of him, who bore no relation to the smiling slim brunette in the picture she had sent him. 

Megan smiled, "Old picture.. Now, do you fancy a coffee?"

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