Just lunch dating serve
It's the perfect opportunity to find out if the person you're going to be spending the next few hours, night or the rest of your life with is a raging alcoholic, notoriously tightfisted, a lightweight or a (beer) barrel full of fun and laughter.
I remember being asked out for drinks by someone and when I was asked what I was drinking, I answered straight away 'a shot of tequila'.
I actually find it attractive when a man eats with it's hands (unless it's soup or a Thai Green Curry), just make sure he washes them before he unhooks your bra.
I should add that although it was our 'first date' we'd known each other for years, we'd just never got around to really 'knowing' each other.
Walking through Covent Garden I had sufficient time and hunger for a proper lunch.
But in the mall of shiny food chains my appetite palled. Faceless corporations churning out supposedly authentic cuisine. The recent financial crash in mid-price restaurant groups, such as Jamie’s Italian, is attributed to over-expansion, fading consumer confidence and, natch, Brexit. The ersatz folk artwork, the faux classic dishes, each brand detail focus-grouped to death. Years ago, Patisserie Valerie was a single lovely Soho café run by an elderly French woman.
I'd find it hard to be coy and flirtatious with someone who's already familiar with my ins and outs (or outs and ins, depending on whatever makes you happy).
My own take on the statement is this: 'Coffee is boring and makes your breath smell, drinks are fun and liable to lead to nakedness, lunch is only ever going to work if it's at the weekend because work takes precedence over leisurely lunch breaks, and dinner means you will be expected to get naked (and there are probably drinks involved too)'. Firstly, I'm allergic to it and it makes me behave like I've ingested a speedball. I'll just sit there covered in hives and frantically fidgeting, whilst sweating and chewing my tongue like a junkie waiting for their next fix.