Buttercup
Fuck my life. No really. I did not want to be on a blind date at all. Long story short, I got tricked into going and suitably eye-browed to stick it out. The events that followed are hard to recall … please forgive. My date showed up late, but with wine, so all was good. He was a southern lad who had been roped in by his flatmate, not a looker, so I felt things would end rather quickly. Damn you Critic, there should be hotness screening for this shit. I’m not going to bitch out at him too much because I’m sure it will just end in tears. We had a good time. Ate some sashimi and downed a bottle of Corbans. We made pretty average conversation, you know, talked about stuff and realised we were both keen to see the basketball.We headed to The Bog just in time to catch the last half. A few rounds of vodka doubles later and we were hitting it off a bit more. He said he wanted to hug me if NZ won the game. Please no. Don’t win. But it happened and that is the most he got out of me, put it like that. For some reason we headed to The Cook and stood awkwardly there for a bit, before I decided I had to get the hell out and go home. Thankfully it was Anzac Day the next day and we had both mentioned the dawn service wake-up. We walked as far as central library before I managed to peel myself away “to go annoy my friends who were studying”. Classic gag. He got my number, but I really hope he lost it somehow.
After running back to my flat in case he was following me, my night got surprisingly better. Thank you flatties for getting me outrageously wasted and even treating me to a cheeky blaze sesh. Very decent mischief to cheer me up, it was much appreciated. Maccas proved a fantastic way to see out the night, got myself a McChicken and a new man while I was waiting in line. So ideal. I must have been sleazing hard because we went straight back to his. I don’t remember his name or much that happened but he was a good sort. Had a delightful hung-over snuggle etc with him in the morning. Lovely. Thanks for that buddy; you were extremely enjoyable to wake up to.
Humperdinck
It was a hot August night in April and by the time I arrived I was perspiring and breathing very heavily. As I walked in she immediately caught my eye and reminded me of a tiny yet priceless jewel. I was actually a late call-up off the bench after another candidate went down with a nasty bout of cat flu, so I had to buy my own bottle of wine, going with a lovely Corbans Sav that had extremely buttery undertones.As we sipped on the delicious lukewarm Sauvignon, fresh with nuances of apples and pears and the palate filled with a subtle lingering after taste of nachos, we enjoyed an effervescent conversation while sitting next to an elderly couple on holiday here from California. I was immediately taken by her ocean-brown eyes, they excited parts of me that I never knew existed. As the wine began to flow so did the chat, various topics were covered including whitebaiting, celebrity gossip and body art.
After a meal of raw fish from Vietnam, we headed straight to a sports bar to watch the Breakers; however I am still unsure of the result as by this time my eyes were fixated firmly on her breasts. After a firm slap in the face, we decided it was time to call it a night. I noticed she had been constantly eye-fucking the shit out of me and could tell she desperately wanted to mount me right there and then, however I just went in for the hug. We had both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
As we parted ways I’m sure I saw a shooting star race across the sky and as she left she gently caressed my arm, which sent a shiver down my spine and every inch of my body felt like it was being bathed in a bath of champagne. I walked home and decided to have a few drinks as I contemplated what to do from here. Before I knew it I had polished off a bottle of bourbon and half a bottle of vodka and remember little from here on, only a vague recollection of falling backwards through a ranch slider.