Each week, we lure two singletons to The Bog Irish Bar, give them food and drink, then wait for their reports to arrive in our inbox. If this sounds like you, email: firstname.lastname@example.org
I've been thinking about the best way to approach this, and what I'll do is break the eve down into tracks like some random hip hop mixtape that got dropped in your shopping bag at some stage while walking through the mall.
Welp, here we go. I chose to avoid the super intimate sit-directly-across seat and shifted into the booth next to her instead. Her friendly smile makes it easy to settle in. There's a lot of yeahs... which evolve into a few "oh yeahs?"
Shout outs to the fam, study, work, friends... we have none of them in common (oh, phew). There's a second verse in here that goes way too quickly, and nobody can remember the words - not even the artists.
ESPY (ft. two bored kids)
The crazy story track. So many, but the best are crafted on the spot. Life stories for peeps in the pub, fake ones... or is that alternative? I'm not sure. But laughs and small brushes of contact keep the charm alive.
BAKED (ft. $penny mealz)
This track is the smoke track where you get "casual." IRL, that's me endeavoring to eat in front of a stranger who would write a review about me. Reckon I did ok... didn't find any leftovers on me the next day.
The drive slowly with the music way too loud track. And yes, I mean riding in a car - you dirty dogs. This track is an octave lower and borderline mumble rap. Possibly, too low. Sleazy I believe she called it.
GO (ft. AAA)
Dropping with a four count start, this is the banger on the tape. The one you've been holding out for... that beat that you like. Followed by the remix that you like even more (KRAYTRANANA style). Because four count starts are great, but some people just need it funky.
Finally, there's the hidden, way-too-much talking outro that's not on the listing. I'd be Kanye on this track, tip-toeing between incoherent and over-sharing. Or is the combo the perfect balance? There's no hope that you recall the lyrics, or why you're even here but fuck it! It was fun.
Thanks, Critic, The Bog, and especially to my lovely new friend. Peace.
There were two main motivators for going on this date. Firstly: a free meal. Secondly: the column had always been my go to read during uni and I was attracted by the idea of going on one of these ‘brief encounters’ with the potential of a raunchy story to share with mates.
The night began with me downing a few crumpets to ease the burden of the wines I knew I’d be necking if perchance this guy turned out to be an utter douche canoe. I arrived on time, grabbed a glass of wine and, five minutes later, my date arrived hairy, tall and not too bad to be quite frank, Critic you done good.
I lead the conversation for the most part while also talking him out of getting the pie as a main, who the eff orders something that mundane on a free night out? He soon started participating fully in the conversation, family, careers, uni, him crying over the alien movie Arrival, and a deceased xmas tree I am unable to mention by sworn secrecy and a shared appreciation for Dylan Moran.
After dinner and a bit more light hearted banter he invited me back to his place, by this stage those three rosé actually had me buzzing and, while trying to keep a cool head, I was wondering if returning to my grotty flat and going to bed alone was a better idea, and I thought (pardon my millennial lingo bullshit but)… YOLO. He called us a cab and we were off to his baller apartment in a penthouse apartment (not a word of a lie).
He began staring me down through sleaze squinted eyes and using a deep voice (not at all sexy), I told him to cut it out and we tried to decide on a movie to watch. Before you could say “pants-off dance-off” our clothes were on his bedroom floor and he was attacking the pink fortress while Amy Adams droned on in the background.
I slept not a wink as the bed was lump and I was quietly trying to supress farts. Apart from that he was super adorable and affectionate and you might even say cute.
Morning eventually appeared and I was dying for a shower and my own waffle quilted bed. Before we left he took me to the roof to show me the view and hot tub!! WHY THE HELL DID WE NOT MAKE USE OF THIS? FOR EFF’S SAKE!
Rooftop hot tub aside, he drove me home and wished me well and all I have to show for the night is a hickey he left on my right side of my neck.
Adieu handsome bearded stranger.