Below is the first of our features from guest bloggers - this week it is the wonderfully witty Sarah Finley who writes The Loves and Life of a London Girl. Keep reading to hear what she has to say about the fearful prospect of being asked out on an "action date"!
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For me dating is usually in the safe surroundings of a bar or restaurant – where alcohol is readily supplied and comfort is key. So when a potential date asked me accompany him to a spinning class – for our first date – I almost bottled it.
Now I’m not the kind of girl to shy away from a bit of exercise – I’m a regular on the spinning bikes and running has recently become like a dear old friend, unlike the enemy it was during cross country PE lessons at school. But exercising and dating – now that would be a first.
And any sort of action dates, I suppose if I’m honest, scare me. I’m prone to falling over in heels after a few too many vinos so god knows what would happen if you armed me with a bowling ball, some ice skates or even a dart. More than likely it would end with some sort of embarrassment or my date phoning 999 – not the best first impression.
Begrudgingly I of course agreed to the spinning date – he was cute, I’m shallow and I hadn’t been on a date in ages! Getting me out of the house was a different matter – my friend had to literally push me out of the door before I changed my mind. And when I arrived at the gym I wasn’t any better – my nerves had hit that point which meant I was physically shaking and I’m sure I started sweating even before any exercise took place. How was I going to get through a whole spinning class? And more to the point did he actually think I’d be able to make any decent conversation while I was slowly turning a beetroot shade of red and panting for England.
But I figured if he still liked me after seeing me all hot and bothered then I must be on to a winner. So, on we span, with a middle-aged sweaty man in between us, while we tried to make decent conversation and I pretended not to be too self conscious about the sweat dripping down my face.
Of course I expected him to avoid me like the plague afterwards so when he asked me out on a normal date – in a cosy bar with all my familiarities – I couldn’t believe ‘action Sarah’ had actually gone and done it. Now where did I put those darts...
Written by Sarah Finley
For more of Sarah’s dating tales visit her blog http://thelovesandlifeofalondongirl.blogspot.com
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