‘I’ve got a call in a couple of minutes, so you’ll have to get going,’ urged Adam*.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing – and panic set in as I realised I’d apparently overstayed my welcome.
It wasn’t like I’d been expecting breakfast in bed the morning after our first date. But the sight of him at his desk working in just a t-shirt and his pants wasn’t exactly the romantic moment I’d imagined.
I didn’t understand why he hadn’t woken me up sooner. My fear rose as I wondered if he’d really answer a Zoom call with me naked in his bed behind him – and as I realised I couldn’t find my underwear.
At 21 I didn’t have much dating experience. I’d recently broken up with the boyfriend I’d been with since I was 16, and now, as a first-year uni student in London I was eager to try dating apps and see what I’d been missing.
It was through Bumble that I met Adam* – who was 28 with long, brown hair and a Spanish accent. He had a grown-up job in finance and was a singer in an indie band, mysterious and effortlessly cool.
It wasn’t long before we’d arranged to meet up.
Over some wine at a local pub we discovered a shared appreciation for the arts – me writing, him music. He was a strong, silent type, but when he did speak it was with the wisdom and nonchalance of an aged rockstar.
Inexplicably, Adam was charmed by my bumbling Britishness and naivety. He laughed when I earnestly suggested, ‘Maybe I’ll interview you one day when I’m a journalist!’
He told me he was able to see through his band’s Spotify account that I had become one of their top listeners. I giggled nervously.
When I accidentally knocked over my third glass, Adam just smiled and said, ‘We should go back to mine now. I can show you my guitars.’
I wasn’t so naive that I didn’t know what that was code for, but I did actually want to see his guitars. For the whole ten minute walk to his flat I was filled with excited butterflies.
Seeing his room should’ve been my first red flag. Any notion that he was some grown-up rockstar was immediately shattered upon seeing the mattress on the floor and huge desktop PC set-up in the otherwise bare space. Oh, and the guitars, shoved in the corner.
The butterflies in my stomach were turning from excited to nervous. Still, trying not to judge a book by its cover, I decided to stay.
He offered to play a tune or two before getting bored, and sat beside me on the mattress. I perched awkwardly with my knees up to my chest, but he didn’t acknowledge the lack of bed frame.
‘So is this where you record all your songs?’ I asked.
‘Mhm,’ Adam mumbled before leaning in to kiss me. He must have grown tired of my interview questions.
At the end of the night, he slung his arm around me and as I drifted off it felt cosy and romantic. Maybe there was a soft centre underneath his aloofness after all.
So, How Did It Go?
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But in the morning, the atmosphere changed dramatically.
I had barely woken up from my wine-induced sleep, but that didn’t stop him desperately trying to get me out of his flat before his work call.
‘You need to go. Like, right now,’ Adam urged.
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Being low to the ground on the mattress and fearful of the view of his webcam, I began to roll around on my stomach to grab my clothes strewn around the room.
But I couldn’t for the life of me find my underwear. I grew frantic, throwing the sheets off the mattress and apologising repeatedly. Any dignity I had left disappeared as Adam watched on, brows furrowed and eyes on the clock.
‘Sorry, but I really have to take this call,’ he huffed.
I looked at the screen. He had Zoom ready to go. Any minute now he’d join the call and I’d be right there, half-naked on all fours.
That’s when I finally saw them – my elusive underwear sitting tauntingly under his chair. I crawled on my hands and knees to retrieve them and managed to pull them on just in time.
As soon as I stood up, Adam joined the call. It was like I no longer existed as his meeting started. No acknowledgement as I waved goodbye. I saw myself out of his house and to the bus stop, humiliated and confused.
It’s possible he thought I’d been so hungover that he didn’t bother waking me up; but I couldn’t understand why he was being so dismissive after a good date. The more I ruminated the more I felt embarrassed for allowing myself to be used like that.
My awkward morning had given me a rude awakening to the reality of men who want to get you into bed and discard you as quickly as possible afterward.
Vindication came a week later however, when Adam texted asking me on another date. After scoffing at his audacity, I ignored the message and deleted his number. If he was going to discard me, I’d do it right back.
Suddenly, I felt much better.
*Name has been changed
