No Reservations (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 1

2016

Exactly 365 days after my last date, I'm celebrating by . . . Going on a date.

Given my last date resulted in me being unceremoniously dumped by my boyfriend of six months, it's probably understandable why I've left it so long to give it another try.

Some people like going on dates. Those people blow my mind. Because I hate dating. All these dating sites and apps and single events like speed-dating? For me, they seem so contrived. Perhaps it's because I came of age in the nineties, before everyone had the Internet and mobile phones and social media. Most of the couples I knew growing up had met at school, or at an underage club night, or - the ultimate meet cute - while getting drunk in the park on a Friday night. Classic.

My hope when I was younger, I guess, was that I'd either be struck by a severe case of love-at-first-sight - which sadly is still yet to happen - or I'd have some sort of slow-burning friends-into-lovers trope that would eventually blow me away with its ferocity.

Once upon a time, I actually thought there was potential in the latter option.But I no longer believe in fairy tales.

Love doesn't just "happen" these days. Romantic comedies feed us bullshit. Life isn't like the movies. Instead, we have to puff ourselves up, put on our best selves . . . and try to convince other people to swipe right on us when half the time we barely feel like swiping right on ourselves.

Cynical? Me? Yep.

I, Iona Stewart, am a fully paid-up member of the Society of Cynics. I could probably actually be chairwoman, but just being cynical already takes up too much of my time. I couldn't be bothered dealing with any additional red tape.

I used to be the most hopeless of all the romantics. I swallowed up romcoms, devoured Sweet Dreams romance novels, and dreamed of my own happy ending. I even had a real-life hero in mind that I hoped to achieve that goal with.

Turned out he didn't return my feelings, and I don't think I've ever been quite the same since.

But hey, I'm probably being over-dramatic. I'm in my thirties now, I'm mostly over some petty teenage heartbreak.

Anyway, I was talking to you about my date, wasn't I? (Sorry, I go off on a tangent at times - I may as well tell you that upfront.) I don't really want to go on this date and normally I probably wouldn't, but a few factors have changed for me recently.

For one thing, I was made redundant. Which was a bit of a pain as I actually did like my job. It was just an admin job but I enjoyed the people and the camaraderie, and I didn't spend all of my Sunday worrying about Monday morning, so that can only be a good thing in my view.

The redundancy also forced me to make the decision to move back in with my mum and dad, at least on a temporary basis. I needed to save some money while I was trying to find a new job, and it seemed like a wise decision at the time . . . But God, it's so weird living with them again in the house I left at 18 without a backwards glance.

They leave me in peace most of the time, don't get me wrong. Allowing me to just rattle around, come and go as I please. It's not like my social life is at its peak right now though - if I'm not at a temp job, I'm either at the gym, or reading in my childhood bedroom and wondering why my life has never went to plan.

I've never felt lonelier.

So am I going on this date with the hope that it will actually come to anything? That it'll be the start of a beautiful relationship?

No.

Quite simply, I'm going so I can speak to someone other than my parents or random temp colleagues. So I can go out for an actual meal for the first time in weeks.