The festival season has been open again for a few weeks, so that Sunday I had my first party. Poncho ready, because it was pouring rain. However, the fact that the festival completely fell into the water did not spoil the fun. Me and my girls had the most fun, moreover I had a bite. Sparks flew with a handsome lad: Kay. We chatted, danced and ended up laughing in the pouring rain. Soaked to the bone, but we weren’t going home yet. He certainly wasn’t… it turned out later. Kay and I exchanged numbers and that very week we decided to see each other.
From Italian snack to Dutch treat
It was Wednesday evening. Around 7:00 PM Kay and I were having pasta at Spaghetteria. He had made a reservation. “I never really go out to dinner with anyone,” he said, unaware that that’s always exactly my first date approach. Because: if it doesn’t work out, I want to be able to pull a Houdini at any moment. Kay, however, had a different motivation. He didn’t want to invest that much right away, before he really knew whether someone was worth the effort (and therefore especially the money). He said it a little less bluntly, but the meaning was clear. I had hooked a well-known miser. One looking for a cheap place to sleep. Free overnight stay in exchange for a snack; talking about investing. House hunting without a budget.
Dating a homeless person
And yet we were sitting there at the pasta Vongole† We ate, drank white wine and had serious conversations right away, but it lacked the flirty festival vibes of a few days ago. He casually mentioned how he ended his relationship a month ago and left his and his ex’s house. He was eagerly looking for a place of his own and in the meantime he wandered from one place to sleep. A relationship that has only recently broken up and no living space; Not exactly an ideal starting position for a steady hook-up, I thought, but I gave Kay the benefit of the doubt.
Do you want to move into my house and bed?
When the bill came I went to the toilet. He cheap tricks, then I do the same (a few years in the dating scene and you start to see it as a social experiment). Back at the table, Kay had indeed paid nicely, but he also immediately had a question for me. ‘So Maartje, am I going home with you tonight?’ I choked on my last sip of wine. What was this guy thinking! One plate of pasta as the key to my house and bed? Or maybe it was even just him to do the sleeping place and was it either in my bed or under a bridge? Well he could forget that little bridge; I luckily managed to sell him a firm ‘No’.
He had guts
You guessed it: the housewarming was over immediately. We put on our coats in silence and walked to our bikes. I had almost left when Kay suddenly came up close. He acted a little nervous. Did he still want to kiss me? He took my hand. Seriously, now you come up with a romantic move, I thought. But, plot twist: ‘It’s okay if I send you a Tikkie, because I don’t know you that well yet.’ I would pay!
Sleep well
well well† So you knew me well enough to sleep with me, but not well enough to pay for a plate of spaghetti? Totally ticked this off. ‘Sure, you send me a Tikkie. And I’m glad you got through it without a hitch. Bye Kay!’