I like a man waiting for me. I like to be late, just a little, to add a bit more enjoyment to the encounter. Your glasses were angled, your teeth aligned. And that emphatic way you spoke with both hands as you explained what it was you wanted from me then. I filled in my details, careful not to smudge, whilst you read your papers, fiddled with your collar. Around us, glasses chinked, a large television screen showed heavy-set rugby players grappling with each other’s bodies and the jukebox played songs by Kylie Minogue. You didn’t check your watch once.
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