The evening after my disastrous movie date with the Frenchman, I got a call. From the Frenchman. To apologize. After our movie date, he’d spent all night at the hospital with his boss and explained how he’d been thinking of me and meaning to call me.
You see, at the beginning of the movie date, in an attempt to break the ice, I half jokingly said: I hope I didn’t say anything too stupid last night, because I was a bit tipsy. He had replied in all seriousness: No, you didn’t do or say anything to offend me, don’t worry. He didn’t reciprocate.
So his apology on the phone was this – I should have reciprocated. I should have asked if I had offended you. I know I was too forward with you, and I shouldn’t have been like that with you. I am really very sorry.
I kept interjecting that I’d had a really lovely evening on our 9-hour epic first date and that there was really no need to apologize for anything. But he kept going like a freight train.
No really, I want to apologize. I was too forward, it wasn’t right of me. I feel awful.
I quite simply said that he hadn’t offended me in any way. And that I wouldn’t change a thing about the evening. Apart from perhaps finding a taxi a little sooner.
Then I moved onto the movie date, because it kind of seemed obvious that I should, saying that it had felt weird and suggesting that maybe it was because I was really quite shy without a couple of drinks in me. He agreed that he was shy too.
The conversation ended with me saying: Well, if you want to spend another evening together, I would like that. I could hardly hear him but he replied with what I believe to be: I had a lovely evening and would really like to see you again.
Ok then. And we hung up. Although he waited for me to hang up before he did. Which I didn’t do right away because I was waiting for him to hang up.