The first date had been planned.  An unimaginative pub drink, but in a local, quirky place so all was good.

But how does one go on a date with another woman? What do you wear? What do other women find sexy? Do I want to be found sexy by another woman?And for goodness sake, how does one flirt with another woman?

Emergency communication with Lesbian Guru was required: Lesbian Guru suggested that as Foreign Woman had already said yes to the date that then she perhaps already found me attractive, that or she just wanted some entertainment for the evening.  Going with the first option her advice to me was “To be yourself”.

Amazing, so that completely-uaccomplishable-at-the-best-of-times objective remains for whichever sex you’re dating.  The point was though how could I be myself when on a date with a woman? The myself that I know does not go on dates with women!

I was characteristically late, which suited me fine: Less nervous waiting.  I found her, and she looked good. We grabbed our drinks and took the plunge into that pseudo interview style arrangement: opposite one another at a table asking questions, and fake laughing a lot.

So at first I felt I must explain my recent hot and cold behaviour.  This was delivered in a very nervous, overly detailed explanation and an unnecessarily sincere apology.  I explained that Actual Gay Best Friend had returned from his travels and helped me realise that I indeed was attracted to her, and had just needed a good friend to tell me what to do about it. Foreign Woman seemed to take it in her stride and didn’t quiz me too much on that one.  This was the perfect outcome, as I’m not sure I had any further answers at this stage anyway.

The evening continued through the usual First Date topics and, I am pleased to write, with a good mix of the This is going well First Date Topics.  Throughout the course of the evening I was hyper aware that everyone in the pub knew that we were there and what we were doing, in my head there was a note issued with every pint:


The image did put me on edge somewhat, so much so that I couldn’t hold it in at one point and had to express my ill-ease, astoundment, and general out of body experience to Foreign Woman:

“I’m 28 years old and I’m sitting on a date with a woman for the first time in my life” Cool as a foreign cucumber that actually tastes of cucumber Foreign Woman replies:

“Well, are you enjoying yourself?”


“And do you want to leave?”


“Well then, don’t think about it.”

So that was that then.  I was free to enjoy the rest of the night as best I could. And I did. It went well, and I let her walk me home.  We arrived at the doorstep and the awkward ‘coffee moment’ pursued. I invited her up. We went to my shared living room.

Foreign Woman was clearly on edge in my house, and for a while the sobering effects of a room where no one else was talking in the background made for a sticky atmosphere.  There was a lot of silence whilst questions such as Can the housemates tell I’ve just bought a woman back to the house, and can they tell it’s in a different way to the usual times I bring female friends over?  Played in my internal monologue.

We sat.  Untouching. On the sofa. We both anxiously stared at the opposite wall.

Well I was damned if I was making (another) first move. I am not a lesbian, I have no idea how these things are supposed to go. Unbelievably this is one scenario I haven’t mentally rehearsed.  I was the date invitee, surely it was her turn?

Eventually the sexual tension, or rather stark awkwardness, got too much and Foreign Woman declared:

“I think we should kiss now.”

Hardly romantic, but at least it was a clear direction for all present.

We pashed (and yes, that is exactly the right 90s word for it) on the sofa for around half an hour.  I felt completely teenaged (hence the 90s reference you see).  She looked hot, smelt divine and kissed superbly.  I wanted her in my bed and besides it was getting to the, you might as well stay over stage.  She agreed, and we took things upstairs.

On the way Foreign Woman left her tiny (compared to mine) size 5 shoes in the hallway.  Excitable Housemate has a particular thing about judging potential beaus by their shoes; shoes and teeth, are always the first things she notices. Letting Foreign Woman leave her woman-sized shoes in the hallway was the semiotic equivalent of a large neon sign flashing YOUR HOUSEMATE IS DOING IT LESBIAN STYLE UPSTAIRS. As aware as I was of that, I was feeling defiant…

Upstairs I introduced Foreign Woman to my room and the four cuddly toys on my bed.  The pashing continued for a while, steaming up…Then she stopped suddenly and announced:

“I think we should take things slowly, we shouldn’t do anything tonight.”

I was definitely disappointed.  This is not what the shoes were busy symbolising downstairs.  However, on the flip side I was completely relieved – What on earth was I supposed to do next anyway?!

The next morning we both declared a peaceful night’s sleep had passed.

A couple of weeks later we discovered that for both of us that had been a complete lie.