Picture this: It’s a Thursday night in June, it’s warm by British standards which means only two jumpers are required and the government have just announced that we can socialise again. By socialise they mean that we can sit two metres away from other people in their back garden, providing they have a back garden. My pal Quentin had decided to make the most of his newfound liberty and had headed round to a friend’s house for some socially distant al fresco drinks. Having sat in their houses for the so long no one had any major news to share or entertaining anecdotes (there is only a certain level of laughter than any anecdote relating to Zoom is ever going to reach) so conversation soon turned to a topic that has since been commonly accepted as fact – lockdown was hard for singletons. By mid June it was coming up to three months since some of us had any form of physical contact with another human being. Quentin had had a lot of thinking time over those three months and had reached the conclusion that his needs stretched beyond those of an entirely carnal nature. He craved something more than just dropping a pin over Whatsapp at 3am, he also wanted to meet someone who could provide companionship, a soul mate so to speak. He was no longer the Lothario of his pre-lockdown life and was ready to settle down into domestic bliss. Kate, whose garden he was in, mentioned that she thought she might know just the person. A friend of hers, Tash, was a zoology graduate and she thought they might just be the perfect fit for each other. I’m not entirely sure why the zoology was mentioned specifically as Quentin has no particular background in the subject but it was considered a clincher at the time.
“Actually,” Kate thought out load, “maybe it wouldn’t work out, she’s way too good for you”. I feel that if a supposed friend said this to me they would not be considered a friend for very much longer, bloody rude! Her statement seemed to have the opposite effect on Quentin though. His reaction was two fold: firstly, he announced that this was exactly the sort of girls that he went for - those that were out of his league and secondly, the challenge had now been laid down. He had his honour to defend; his pride was on the line. He was determined that this girl would now be his soul mate, whether genuinely attracted to each other or not. In fact, why wait to find out? Why not get the ball rolling now and prove to Kate just how compatible her friend and him were. Quentin saw that Kate’s phone was on the table so asked if he could borrow it to ring Tash there and then. They were a few drinks in and this seemed like a flawless plan until Tash picked up and they realised their mistake, it was actually passed midnight and unsurprisingly, Tash had been fast asleep. Waking up to an incoming call from Kate she assumed there must be a problem so having answered, was rather taken aback to be greeted by the gravelly tones of a distinctly male and complete stranger. Continuing with his straight shooting approach to this true life and life partner business, Quentin explained that Kate thought they would be well suited to each other and was ringing on the off-chance that Tash was free the following evening?
Alas, a speed bump in the road to Happily Ever After: Tash was due to be having dinner with her sister the following night. She was free on Sunday though? They locked it in and Quentin cracked open another beer to celebrate the first stage of his success. With Kate’s comments ringing in his ears he know he was going to have to pull out all the stops for this one. As soon as he arose, bright eyed and bushy tailed the following morning he set to work planning what would undeniably be the very best date that lockdown would allow. As much as Quentin was looking forward to Sunday though, he had Saturday to get through first and more freedom to celebrate. What started as catching up with some friends over some socially distant tinnies in the park ended up involving rather a lot more tinnies than Quentin had anticipated, along with some tequila. He didn’t get home until 4:00AM and had to be up at 9:00AM for breakfast with a cousin – not a great amount of rest. By Sunday morning his eyes were rather more bleary than bright and his once-bushy tail was firmly between his legs. He had agreed to meet Tash at Putney Station at 4:00PM, kitted out in sturdy shoes with a long walk on the agenda. Quentin sent a message in advance, “If you could wear a tee-shirt with ‘Tash’ on it, that would be fantastic”. By 2:30PM things were still not looking too rosy for poor old Quentin; three months of lockdown and he was not the seasoned drinker he had once been. The hangover was hitting with a vengeance.
He decided that the only way to get through the date was with a hair of the dog so before Quentin set off on his bike for Putney he decanted some cold Prosecco into two Chilly bottles. Tash could then quaff her tipple free of the risk of cross-contamination (I know what you’re thinking, deja vu? I can assure you that it is complete coincidence that Quentin had adopted an almost identical approach to alcoholic sanitation that Greg took a few weeks ago in Nurse Bae. There is absolutely no possibility that Greg and Quentin are in fact the same person but had requested a different pseudonym for this post to avoid looking like a serial dater, none whatsoever…). Backpack packed and on his back, Quentin set off. The next slight issue was that Quentin actually had absolutely no idea what Tash looked like. Even the rookiest of daters knows that prior to all dates a social media stalk is mandatory but despite his background in tech, Quentin’s thorough searches drew a blank. It turned out that Tash didn’t have any social media. It’s a bold man who asks a woman out without any idea what she even looks like and knowing nothing about her other than her educational trajectory but they say fortune favours the bold. Let down by modern technology, Quentin had to resort to more traditional methods of identification so wrote a sign with Tash’s name on it.
All he knew about Tash was that she was wearing a tie-dye top (how very lockdown chic) so Quentin stood outside the station with his sign and duly waited, trying to overcome the waves of nausea that continued to roll over him and praying that he didn’t emit a faint pong of stale beer. Had his pride got the better of him? Was this going to be a terrible mistake? The nausea had been joined by a severe case of hang-xiety. It was just at the moment that Quentin was really starting to question the meaning of his very existence that a woman walking towards him in a tie-dye top forced him to refocus his vision. A vision is the only way to describe the woman that was Tash, Quentin likened the impact of her beauty to “being hit in the chest with a sledgehammer”. Knowing Quentin, this is probably something he has genuine first hand experience of as well. He managed to pick his jaw off the floor and gave Tash a socially distant kiss on the cheek by way of greeting.
Things did not get off to a strong start, Tash declined Quentin’s offer of an outstretched Chilly bottle of booze. Hair of the dog was out the window; Quentin was going to have to battle this hangover alone. Luckily, after the failure of his first romantic gesture, Quentin had another trick up his sleeve. What Tash thought was a random romantic walk along the river actually had a very specific destination in mind. As they walked they got to know each other a bit. It was challenging to get a clear report from Quentin on what exactly their conversation covered as I think he was having to concentrate quite hard on not vomiting but to return once more to his own poetic words, he said “She seemed kind of cool. She was into cool stuff like art and had a cool tattoo on her arm in braille. I think she was pretty impressed that I knew it was called braille.” I’m sure we are all equally impressed by Quentin’s knowledge of tactile writing systems but it seems there was a slight floor in this tattoo plan. As the description suggests, the whole point in braille is that it’s tactile, it’s a system of raised dots used by those with visual impairments. Therefore the only people who would be able to read Tash’s tattoo are those that are blind and the only way that they would be able to read it is by touching it. 1) Why would you think to touch someone’s arm unprovoked in the hope of being able to read them and 2) Tattoos are flat, not raised, meaning the visually impaired person in question wouldn’t be able to read it anyway. This is all by the by and not something I think Quentin even considered as he oscillated between admiration of Tash’s coolness and his own knowledge of braille.
Eventually they reached their destination. As previously mentioned, the date took place in mid-June so although back gardens had reopened; bars and restaurants were still very much shut, severely narrowing the options for romantic date locations. Quentin was not going to let a pesky little pandemic stand in the way of true love though. Luckily, a good friend of his owns his own restaurant in Chiswick. He must be a very good friend because Quentin managed to convince him to open the restaurant especially for his date with Tash and to cook them both a full three-course meal. One point that Quentin kept on returning to in his retelling of the narrative was the fact that Tash had absolutely no dietary requirements, for him this was an absolute clincher. It did make me wonder if this particular deal-breaker was listed on his dating profile - it seemed oddly specific. Unmarred by vegetarianism or intolerances, the meal went swimmingly and the drinks flowed freely, finally allowing Quentin to top up the alcohol levels in his bloodstream. Although, without meaning to be too pedantic, the alcohol couldn’t flow too freely as it was only upon arrival at the restaurant that Quentin’s friend/private chef informed him the toilets weren’t actually working - only a minor hiccup in a perfectly laid plan.
They chatted away, undistracted by fellow diners, and stared longingly into each other’s eyes. Tash was apparently really into her music and a big fan of a local up and coming musician, we’ll call her Grace. By a random coincidence, it transpired that Quentin actually used to go to school with and was good friends with Grace. This gave him major cool points, maybe not quite as cool as a tie-dye t-shirt, braille tattoo and zoology degree but still pretty cool. They finished their meal with several rounds of ouzo and set off on their return walk to Putney. As they wandered it became clear that that ouzo had been a drink too far for Quentin’s hangover to handle. The nausea returned, with force. He could feel it building. Quentin was sick in his mouth. He tried to cover it as best he could with a cough and luckily nothing was physically expelled. Even more luckily, a distraction was close at hand. They had just got back to their original starting point of Putney Bridge and were met by the most glorious sunset over the river. Quentin couldn’t have planned the view any better if he had tried. Tash was so impressed she stopped and whipped out her phone to take a picture. Quentin is a big fan of Rom-coms and knew the signs; this was the perfect moment to lean in for a picturesque and dramatic snog. The camera would pan out as an emotional soundtrack built in the background, maybe some violins, maybe some Coldplay. They were going to give The Notebook a run for their money. Quentin was brought back to reality with a bump when remembered he had vomited in his own mouth less than five minutes earlier. He thought that on this occasion, a snog might actually ruin the moment rather than make it. He walked Tash back to the station and bid her a government sanctioned, vomit-scent avoiding, socially distant farewell.
Quentin watched the woman of his dreams walk off into the sunset and knew he was in love. Kate had been right in her initial thought that they were perfect for each other. Now all Quentin had to do was prove he was good enough for Tash. He racked his brains on the bike ride home when an idea struck him. He messaged his famous old pal Grace, the trendy singer that Tash was a fan of. Quentin convinced Grace to record a personalised video for Tash asking her out on a date. He couldn’t do any more – a restaurant all to themselves, a picturesque sunset, a video from her favourite singer - all the stops were sufficiently pulled out. Surely Tash felt the way he did and would immediately agree to a second date. She said no.