The Foodie Call

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Categories: DATING, Misadventures, Read More

In the Black – Foodie Call.
I’ve finally figured out what you all have known for years. Food and sex are the foundation of any good casual relationship, now more commonly known as the foodie call. Two essential needs being met at once. A delicate balance of being fed and erm… being fed! You get the picture.

So this is how mine went down. For a while now, he had been flirting online. I’ve only ACTUALLY met him once but you know when it’s special. He likes you, showers you with loads of attention, hence, its special. Normally I would have tried to seal the deal on the night but hey, I was drunk, the club was loud and sweaty and I may have been slightly distracted by the Thierry Henry look a like at the bar.

Last Thursday I came home and scanned the fridge. Hmmm. Beetroot, Soya milk and chocolate body paint do not a meal make. Even though I live within a mile of six supermarkets, I just couldn’t be bothered to leave my house again and then come back and cook. So I jumped online to see if there was anything happening where there was likely to be some grub. My friend Tia was suggesting The Westbourne, but only for a quick drink. But then HE came along. The email asked me how I was and we started chatting. I broke it down: I had no food, I can’t cook and I was so hungry that I was contemplating eating at the dodgy chippy conveniently forgetting the stomach cramps from last time!

Yes, I know black women are meant to be able to throw down in the kitchen but I guess I assumed throw down meant something else entirely? Don’t judge my precious.

So he suggested that he come around and cook. I pictured him trying to rustle up something with the body paint and beetroot. It would also mean me having to clean the flat. So I told him no. Then he counter offers to cook for me at HIS place. Now this is a plan I could work with. A meal, potential sex and NO laundry in the morning? JACKPOT.

I jump in the shower and mentally plan an outfit that screams: ‘I could wear this to work tomorrow.’ Then, just as Kylie and I were hitting the dodgy high note, my stomach rumbled and it hit me. I didn’t know where he lived! So I jumped back online and asked. He eventually told me.


Needless to say Tia and I had a great night out at The Westbourne and I managed to grab some food. I’m all up for a foodie call my precious but you need to have the right ingredients. What if he couldn’t cook? What if he couldn’t satisfy? What if he lived outside Zone 2?

Gotta run. I’ve got a foodie call with a guy in Gloucester Road who swears his food will make me cry out. I guess that means lots of onions.

Ciao for now my precious

© Chelsea Black


In the Black – the gift basket (July)

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Categories: DATING, Misadventures, Read More, Tags: , , , , , ,

It’s always a tricky one isn’t it? Your latest fling invites you over for the night. So let’s think; dinner, sex and the morning after to stress and obsess over.

My “sex date” look takes a good three hours plus industrial strength products to achieve; so you see what I’m working with.
But this one had potential hubby written all over him. I was determined to stand out and be remembered. Yep, the legendary shag of pub and stag do conversations!

I thought I had it cracked. I would simply fill a gift basket with foods for the evening, toys for the night and products for the morning without looking like I was moving in…just yet.

So first, the contents. I did my research and bought his national foods, soaps and bath bombs from Lush, went crazy in Ann Summers, Harmony and Simply Pleasure in Soho and of course, the mandatory Mark and Spencer’s underwear purchase. I’m a traditionalist at heart. It took three days of hardcore shopping and heavy reliance on the blackberry but I had a plan.

He’s an African man cooking me an African meal so I went for a wooden bowl as a basket. I eventually track one down in Crabtree and Evelyn, but realised at home that it was too small! I would still need to take a suitcase to get through my 12 hour visit. So, mustering all my resolve I went out again and just as I was about to give in and treat myself to some well deserved chocolate cake, I stumbled across a cute vintage wire basket at Victoria & Jill’s. I still had the chocolate cake mind you.

But, like most best laid plans I still have the basket and (cough, except the chocolates) most of its contents at home. Why you ask? Because when I wrapped it all up in netting and ribbons I realised that despite failing Home Economics, I had created a masterpiece too good for a mere man. A few cuddles and kisses do not a gift basket make. Plus I spoke to my best friend who relayed a similar story about a seduction scene straight out of 9 1⁄2 Weeks too early in her relationship. So I did what any normal girl would do and packed my biggest, ugliest work bag. Now he just thinks I have bad taste, as opposed to too much time on my hands and the intention of robbing him of his single status.

Needless to say the date wasn’t what I was expecting. I was made to help cook (see Home Economics. reference above) the sex was underwhelming, and I woke up stiff-necked whilst he snored and hogged all the pillows. Not even so much as a poke on Facebook these days. Good job I nixed the Robin Givens “Boomerang” rain coat idea eh?

Nope, I’m going to save any creative outbursts for my girls. So look out my precious, there’s a hen night gift basket coming your way!

Ciao for now my precious

© Chelsea Black


In the Black – A girl with a plan (June)

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Categories: ABOUT, FIND ME, In Bed With Chelsea, Read More, Tags: ,

So you know when you turn up to those business networking do da things and they tell you that everyone is going to have to do a 60 second pitch? And you’re standing there thinking to yourself, “****! I’ve got half an idea, my deodorant stopped working around noon and I’m hungry.” Well that’s how I feel about writing this column. It’s half an idea based on a series of status updates on a certain social networking utility but, hopefully, by the end of this you’ll get the idea.

Deadlines and word counts, my parents would be so proud. Not that they’ll see this. I mean, who wants to be confronted with the fact that their daughter is a dating disaster, spends way too much day time in the local park and thinks that the recommended drinking limit for women is 21 units? (Its 14 units for those of you who also thought that 21 was the right answer. It is, if you’re a man). Oh, and the sex! No one wants to admit that their precious child is out there exploring. Not as much as she would like to mind you but exploring none the less.

I’m a girl with a plan. I plan to have babies, get married 4 times (1 down only 3 to go!) and am destined for great things. Unfortunately I am severely allergic to kids, fall in lust way too quickly, and lack the focus for success. But none of this stops me from dreaming. You’ve got to have dreams right? I work for myself as an administrator and social group organiser (see reference to park above) but am a full time bar fly.

So a bit about me just to set the scene. Ok, I’m over 21. I’m at the age where men ask me how many kids I’ve got as opposed to do I have any. Then again this could be due to my permanent budda belly that I call Maxine Saj. She goes everywhere with me and constantly craves chocolates and woo woo cocktails. I don’t question these desires, I just provide.

I live in London and will not be removed unless under the influence of lots of champagne and a Tiffany ring. In fact, I saw the perfect champagne pink bauble ring in their window the other day. I think the ring, a house in zone 1 or 2, a great credit rating to counterbalance mine AND patience makes for the perfect compromise for being stuck in a relationship. Oh and a credit card would be yummy but I’m a realist. You can’t have it all.

Now I would love to stop and chat some more but you’ve just reminded me that I need to contrive a subtle way for my latest lust bunny to see the bauble ring. It’s been 3 weeks and I’m hopeful. So what if he hasn’t called me for a week. A girl with a plan, that’s me.

Ciao for now my precious

© Chelsea Black

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