My date was already there when I walked in, so it was up to me to set the scene for introductions and, slightly flustered, I went in hot with the hug. TOP TIP though, remember their name – because I did not. And by the time I realised, I was way too far in to ask the poor boy again.
After steaming through a number of gin and tonics, the conversation seemed to be warming up. Although, the possibility of me waking up in his bed the next morning was not looking good.
Sitting in a dark corner of a jazz bar, I knew there was only one way my date wanted this to go . . . but I still couldn’t remember his name???
A small kiss on the cheek from him, and I thought right, let’s make this interesting, so I said see you later to the ticklish leg stroking and hello to the first pash of the night.
Even following the slightly fiery pash, I still had no name to work with, and I was ready to send the SOS to my flat mate. I informed my date I was a “second date kind of girl” as I didn’t have the heart to break it to him that I wasn’t that into him, and I said I was about to get picked up.
Bless the boy, he walked me to the car. But then he jumped right in?? He was obviously still holding out hope that the night would end with a bang. That’s when I said, “Alright, get out and I will give you something.” Apparently content with this, the boy jumped out. HERE WE GO I thought, pushing the intrigued male into a corner and hard up against a wall. I then switched things up a gear and give him a taste of the direction that he’d likely thought the blind date would head in. Surprised and seemingly satisfied with the turn of events, he stood a little shell-shocked still hard up against that wall.
I took this as my chance to get quickly out of there and flew into the car at top speed.
We had sex. 7/10. We had agreed that we would tell Critic that we parted when her flatmate came to pick her up, but where would be the fun in that?
A previous me would have wanted a date to be shrouded in mystery, and intrigue my curiosity. I didn’t want this for my date. I have learnt over the years that perceived mystery simply veils a closed off personality and depression, a bit like my mother really.
Luckily, said bird was not one of these girls. I knew this sheila would be instantly attracted to me. I gave it two hours before we were doing the no pants dance.
I arrived at Dog With Two Tails promptly at 7.30. Shortly after, the whole room stood still for the cataclysmic, some would say seismic, event of my date’s ovaries hitting her fallopian tube as her gaze caught my glance. I’m not entirely sure if that anatomy is correct but I could tell she wanted me.
The drinks flowed and so too with it the conversation naturally progressed. My date was witty, polite and quite the looker, and so naturally I took her over the road for a more dim mood lighting experience, and a ‘how’s ya father’ type operation. This is where the night went from a PG Disney movie to a sensual Disney teen Rom-Com.
We quickly called her flatmate to take us home and this is where we agreed the story would end. Only it didn’t. I was an unwitting passenger for what was about to come. Before I know it, she has both of my hands in her vice-like grip above my head, and she’s pinning me to the bed using her lips. Her other hand grabs my hair and yanks up, bringing my face up, and her lips are on mine. I’m going to leave you there, but I’ll let you know that I wasn’t the captain of the ship that night.
I might have blown my second date opportunity but I couldn’t not share this. You’re welcome.