Dating : Joe

My first thought was that he looked like Joe from You, that show on Netflix about a stalker who ends up being a murderer. It didn’t help that he had an American accent. I have an Australian accent and we were both living in London. Both far away from home in the middle of 2020, in the midst of the pandemic. We matched on Hinge and he asked me pretty quickly if I wanted to get a drink. He was cute and somewhat intriguing, so I agreed.

We met at an underground cocktail bar in Hoxton, it was a warm and bright London summer evening so an underground bar was a strange choice. His choice. And it was clear he regretted it. But we ordered cocktails and settled into the dating formalities — where are you from, where do you work, why are you in London? He had lived in my home city of Melbourne, but was quick to tell me he didn’t like it. Sydney is where it’s at — he declared. I didn’t agree but could see his point. If you have the option to live in London, New York or San Francisco where he was from, why would you go to Melbourne? Sydney offered incredible city beaches and a lifestyle many non-Aussies would romanticise. Melbourne is smaller version of many other great cities in the world. Maybe that’s why I love it.

We moved on to work and he mentioned that he used to be a pretty well-known musician. I tried to place him, but couldn’t. I made a mental note to Google him later. We finished our cocktails and I started thinking of the next drink to get. I’m one of those people when once I start drinking, I need to at least have another drink on the way or I can’t relax. My date looked uncomfortable. Had the conversation really been that bad? He assured me it was the venue, he didn’t like the vibe, so we left to find somewhere better.

We found another place to drink, a pub this time. It wasn’t dark yet, but we opted to sit inside and the conversation started to flow more naturally. He told me he was looking for someone with two passports, he already had a US and an Australian passport so he was looking for someone who had more. He also wanted someone who earned more than him and would look after the kids so he could work on his music and travel. I laughed and said I have only have an Australian passport and probably earned less than him so maybe I’m not what he’s looking for. He didn’t laugh back.

He went to ask how old I was. A whole 3 years older than him it turned out. What advice did I have for him being that much older and wiser than him? I told him that he is younger than he thinks. I distinctly remember throughout my twenties constantly thinking I was too old to be going to festivals, staying up all night or spending all my money on booze, clothes and holidays. Or I would think I should be a mum, or further into my career by the age that I was. It was all bullshit I declared to him. You are literally the youngest you will ever be so do whatever you want!

Yes, I may have been a little drunk by that point.

The whole night I was confused as to whether he had a really dry sense of humour or he was serious. I started to like this strange and intense person I was spending the evening with. Either way, it was mysterious and, as the wines kept flowing, attractive. The bar shut early because of Covid restrictions. I can’t remember what they were at the time but that must have been why the pub shut at 11pm. While we aimlessly walked around to find a spot for a night cap, he offered his place, I declined initially then about five minutes later I agreed with him, we should go back to his place for one more drink.

His place, he warned me, was very cool. A converted factory in the back streets of Shoreditch. He was right, it was a lot cooler than my house share in Dalston. And very clean. He offered me drink. He had one beer and we shared it. He put on Tame Impala in tribute to me being Australian and we started sharing our deepest thoughts. There was something about his intensity that made me want to share with him. I could tell him why I really was in London and he told me about his plans to be on the move for the rest of his life. I admitted to him that I craved stability and normality. Moving to the other side of the world at 30 was something I did because I didn’t have those things not because I didn’t want them. Basically I was a fraud and he was not.

Before long we were in his bedroom. It was starkly empty, there was a bed and a clothes rack of only black jackets. Underneath were seven pairs of bright white sneakers. He had a huge lamp in the corner which he could control the colour via an app on his phone. He chose red.

I had decided that there was no chance this could develop into a serious relationship, I was quite happy for it to be one night only. I giggled to myself at the thought of him visiting me at my house that was never tidy, and looked like it was falling to one side. After messing around for another hour I slipped out. He wasn’t bothered, mumbling to message him when I got home. I did, and he replied the next morning to say he fell asleep but was glad I got home safely.