My date was a win.

First dates are the worst part of dating. Especially for a gay man. I made the classic mistake of trying to find a date on certain dating apps I won’t mention here. This did not turn out the way I had hoped, and some things I saw scarred me for life. So this time I did things the traditional way. Through a friend of a friend. When the other person agreed to a date, I was unprepared. I panicked and suggested the idea of a date at my house and I would cook dinner. Looking back on this I have zero clue why I didn’t just suggest the cinema or a restaurant but now I had to not only look nice but prepare food that didn’t kill them let alone impress them. I flipped through five cook books that had not been opened since I first purchased them and promised myself I would cook my own food. Fast food is a godsend, but my waist was expanding as fast as they cooked the food. I came across a few vegan meals that looked edible. Neither of us are vegan, but not using meat meant a lower chance of giving them food poisoning.

Satay sweet potato curry sounded somewhat appetising, but anyone who knows will know that it’s not the best idea to have curry. Then there was a vegan noodle dish, but I pictured myself slurping up noodles and getting the sauce everywhere, which isn’t the most appealing thing to do on a first date. It was a struggle to fight the urge to just make the vegan brownies, but my sense won and I settled on vegan tomato and mushroom pancakes. Because the prep and cooking time was thirty-five minutes, and the picture looks like something five-star restaurants would serve.

At the bottom of the recipe page it said, “this dish is best served with a fine merlot.” After a quick google search of what merlot was and where to buy it, I headed to wine seller. This wasn’t a small shop. It was more like a warehouse filled to the brim with wine. I didn’t know there were that many. There were isles of bottles categorised in names I could hardly read, Carbonet franc, Dolcetto, Barbera, which I took a picture of to show my friend of the same name, and a name I tried thirty times to pronounce, Gewürztraminer. A man in the crispest suit I had ever seen walked up to me, looked down his lengthy nose and said;

“Might I help you?”

“I am looking for a Merlot?” I asked.

“Yes, we do, and it is pronounced Muh-low. Follow.” He spun on his heel and walked in a way that seemed more like gliding.

By the time we reached the Merlot section, I was out of breath. The server pulled out ridiculously tiny glasses, the kind that have no arms, from a pocket on his waistcoat and balanced them on his nose

“We have light, medium and heavy body. Tuscany to Washington, cold and warm climate. Which would you like?”

“Erm…” I said.

The server scoffed.

“Is it for a meal?” he asked, looking down his nose even further to the point it almost hid his eyes.

“Yeah, a mushroom and tomato…” I said

Before I could even finish, and without even looking, the server grabbed a bottle of wine.

“This will go well with mushroom and it is most likely in your price range. Follow.” and he was off again.

It was tempting to grab on the bottles of the shelf and break it on his long bony nose, but, that’s illegal, so I just followed him. I bought the merlot, sorry, MUH-LOW, and left the shop as quickly as I could. That was one of the worst shopping experiences I have ever had. If only there was some kind of website that existed that just somehow knows what you wanted, maybe with a quick survey that didn’t require interacting with long nosed snobby gits.

Anyway, hopefully the rest of the night would go better. After I got the ingredients, I headed home. I even picked up separate bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash. I thought that might make a better impression than the all in one stuff I normally use. Before cooking, I showered and put on some nice aftershave. The bin bag in the kitchen was overflowing and smelt nasty, so I took that out and put on a candle. With all the scents going on, I and my house now smelt like the inside of a busy Zaflora factory. Following the recipe exactly, messing things up and starting again, I had prepared the meal, and it was now in the oven. Thirty minutes until it would be done and my date would be here. I had somewhat forgotten someone was coming over, so I scrambled to clean up a bit and set the table. Which had, until this point, been covered in various books I had been reading. There were more books on the table than on the shelf I bought specifically for them.

The house was clean, the food would be cooked in ten minutes and the wine was in the refrigerator right next to the leftover pizza from yesterday’s take away. Wait, do you put merlot, damn it, MUH-LOW in the refrigerator? Oh well, too late now.

The doorbell rang, Oh crap, he’s here. I went to run to the door but thought that might seem suspicious, so I took my time. I was in the hallway that led to the door when I thought, If I take too long he might think I stood him up. So now I hurried to the door and opened it. To say he was more attractive in person was an understatement. Curly brown hair, sharp jawline, honey brown eyes and muscles that were almost breaking out of his shirt. At the sight before me, my stupid brain felt like I should react by saying.

“Oh, damn.”

Luckily, I said it under my breath and he didn’t hear, but after that I just stood there for what seemed like an hour until he said in a deep and smooth voice.

“Sorry I am late, I got too carried away watching star w….” He gulped, realising what he was about to say would make him sound nerdy. “A movie.”

A NERD! Thank god! We have that in common, and this would make my nerdy shelf of memorabilia a talking point and not an embarrassing display of my social awkwardness.

“It’s fine.” I said, “Food will be about 15 minutes. Come in!”

He nodded as a thank you and stepped in. I took his coat and hung it up. I showed him to the living room, and he smiled at my nerd shelf.

“I am so glad to see that.” He joked. “I was nervous that side of me would put you off.”

“No no no, I love all this stuff. If I had the space, they would fill my house.” I said

He chuckled. Win.

The night was much more romantic than I had expected. I had forgotten to buy some of those tall candles, so instead I put a few tea lights in a glass vase and put it on the table in between us. We spoke mostly about various fandoms and it turned out he is a lover of MUH-LOW which was another win. I thought the food tasted dreadful, but he said it was delicious and I still don’t know if he meant it or just said it to make me feel better, but either way the night was a total success.

He laughed hysterically at my story at the wine sellers and introduced me to this amazing website called Bright Cellars. Never again will I be tempted to strike a snob with a bottle of Tuscany, warm climate, MUH-LOW again.