Today I had a coffee date with a new potential Bull.
He is an entrepreneur and apparently owns several companies. During one of our online conversations he casually mentioned that he bought a restaurant last year “just for fun” and then sold it again afterward.
That alone already made me curious about what kind of man casually buys a restaurant for entertainment purposes.
I was genuinely curious how this date would turn out. Based purely on his photos, he wasn’t necessarily the type I’d normally fall for immediately, but through texting he came across as polite, calm, intelligent and respectful – which honestly counts for a lot too.
What made this date feel extra exciting was the fact that we hadn’t really done any teasing or naughty conversations beforehand. Normally, by the time I meet someone, there’s already been at least some playful tension built ip through messages.
This time?
Nothing.
No flirting escalation. No spicy teasing. No chaos.
Which somehow made the whole thing feel more unpredictable again.
We agreed to meet at the park – apparently that place is slowly becoming my unofficial dating headquarters by now.
Although unlike my date with Bull number six, this time the plan was genuinely simple: just coffee. No long walks. No sneaking around through trees behaving like teenagers.
When I arrived, I immediately saw there were still plenty of parking spots available. Small victory already.
I parked the car and quickly messaged hubby to let him know I’d arrived safely.
Part of me felt a little conflicted.
The day before, I’d had a date night with my husband and emotionally I was honestly still completely in that vibe. The warmth, the intimacy, the connection between us…it was all still lingering in my head. So getting into my car today to meet another man suddenly felt a little strange for a moment.
Maybe that also influenced how excited I actually felt about this date,
Not in a bad way – just…different somehow.
I got out of the car, sent my Bull a message that I’d arrived and walked toward the little restaurant while scanning around for someone who looked like the man from the photos.
Nothing.
Then suddenly I heard behind me: “Hey, hi!”
I turned around and saw my Bull walking over from his car.
First observation: okay, so he drives a Bentley and not a Peugeot.
Important distinction apparently.
He was dressed neatly casual too – stylish without looking overly polished or like one of those stereotypical overly-posh businessmen with cropped trousers and terrible pointy shoes.
So far?
Definitely better than expected.
We walked toward the terrace and were shown to a table overlooking the lake. From where we sat, you could see part of the city skyline in the distance, which honestly did make the setting feel pretty nice for a first meeting.
The waitress came over and asked what we wanted to drink. My Bull order a coke, I ordered water.
Already a wildly glamorous start.
I asked him how long he’d been driving and he told me it had taken him almost fifty minutes to get there. From there the conversation slowly drifted into the usual first-date topics: work, business, travel, houses, holidays, cars and lifestyle.
My Bull talked a lot about his companies and how he managed them. He mentioned owning a house in Portugal and another in the Caribbean. When he asked whether I traveled ofter, I told him about our holidays and how last summer we’d spent three weeks in Florida living like royalty in a ridiculously oversized house with an absurdly large US car.
The conversation alone probably sounded incredibly shallow to anyone listening nearby.
My Bull explained that because of the holiday homes, they mostly vacationed there, which he admitted was also a downside of owning property abroad. Ideally, he’d rather choose a completely different destination every year.
The conversation kept circling around business, houses, boats, au pairs, expensive tastes and work life. He told stories about a sloop he’d owned, his cars, his businesses and daily life. He asked about my work, our clients and our office.
Somewhere during the conversation, I slowly realized something important: This wasn’t really a flirtatious date.
It felt more like two financially comfortable adults politely interviewing each other over drinks.
There was no tension. No chemistry. No dangerous little pauses. No butterflies.
Just…pleasant conversation.
At one point I excused myself to go the bathroom, mostly because I needed a moment to think. While standing there, I messaged hubby and immediately admitted:
This probably isn’t going anywhere.
Not because my Bull was unpleasant – quite the opposite actually. He was polite, successful, calm and perfectly decent company.
But I simply didn’t feel anything.
That realization also quietly killed my very unrealistic “sugar daddy fantasy” storyline I’d apparently already created in my own head beforehand.
Tragic.
I walked back to the table and we talked a little longer before eventually deciding it was time to leave. My Bull politely walked me back to my car, which honestly I appreciated.
Then he looked at my car and admitted: “Okay…this is actually a pretty nice car.”
I laughed.
“Yeah, not bad right?”
And of course, because apparently I’m incapable of behaving modestly anymore, I casually added that my new car would arrive in three weeks.
My Bull laughed and told me that according to him, dating apps mostly consists of Renault-driving mothers and schoolteachers, so apparently my car had been a pleasant surprise.
That comment alone may have been the most flirtatious moment of the entire date.
My Bull walked back toward his own car while I got into mine. The moment I closed the car door behind me, I already knew for certain: This wasn’t going to become anything more.
I immediately tried calling hubby, but of course he didn’t pick up right away. Typical timing.
So I started driving home while replaying the date in my head a little. And honestly? It hadn’t been bad at all. He was polite, successful, respectful, easy to talk yo and perfectly pleasant company.
But there simply hadn’t been any spark.
Eventually, my husband called back.
And naturally, I immediately lured out: “Yeah…his isn’t going anywhere.”
I explained that my Bull hadn’t really flirted, that the date itself had honestly been perfectly fine and that he genuinely seemed like a kind man. But it just wasn’t exciting.
I simply didn’t feel what I’m secretly looking for during these kinds of dates – that playful tension, that curiosity, that dangerous little spark makes you immediately want more.
This had felt more like a pleasant business lunch with expensive hobbies.
Fun once. Not a sequel.
While driving home, I couldn’t already feel my mood shifting completely again. The disappointment about the missing chemistry faded quickly because honestly, all I really wanted now was to go home and spend the rest of the evening with my sweetheart.
Time to close the weekend properly.
Back home. Back to hubby. Back to us.
To be continued…