Goatee was at my desk chatting away about some upcoming projects he might have me help with, when the topic turned to evening revelry. He was talking about some friend with a photo exhibition, and when he asked about by post-five o’clock plans, I explained that I had a glamorous evening scheduled which included a glass of merlot and Hollyoaks Later.
He then asked the dreaded question, ‘How are the plans coming for your boyfriend’s trip to Scotland?’
I stumbled and mumbled through a ‘We broke up.’
I thought he was going to do the head tilt, ‘Aw. What happen?’
But, as Goatee is a grown man and not a nosey fish wife, he didn’t. Instead, there was a brief pause, and he said ‘I guess that means you’re free for dinner Friday night.’
Being that I haven’t been asked on a date in over two years, this statement really didn’t sink in. So I said, ‘Yeah, but I really don’t know a lot of people in Glasgow, and I don’t like eating at restaurants alone.’
Yeah, I’m a dork.
Luckily, he’s not a dork, so he said, ‘Well, it’s a good thing I’ll be sitting at the table with you. I’ll swing by yours around 7?’
Now, let me remind you, I’m a dork, because I pulled out expense forms and said ‘I’m sorting out your expenses for October, so don’t forget to keep the receipts.’
He laughed, said this time it’ll be on me, and then he walked off.
Sadly, it still took me a moment to realise that not only had he asked me on a date, but I was going on a date. On Friday. With my boss.
My god, what’s with me and authority figures?!?!