So the other day I tried to get into a party and couldn’t get in. I wouldn’t have minded by why wait 40 minutes before informing people that it’s not going to happen for them that night? Seriously London is in a recession, there isn’t enough juice for door bitches in flats to be pulling these stunts.

My friends and I ended up at Revolution Bar instead. I was kind of relieved as it was one of those straight from the theatre days and I wasn’t dressed to rave. Surely I wouldn’t know anyone. Sadly I did. A few familiar faces were there including one who is an ex of a friend and an arsehole and my old Drunken Dial part 2 guy. Black London is getting smaller or I’m going out more. Mmmmm. Don’t judge my precious after a recession it’s only right to go out and see how the game has changed.

I was already suffering the disappointment of a bad prosecco when I found this guy looking at me from nearby. I won’t lie my precious he was cute. Not sure why he was staring but as he swayed over (yes he was slightly worse for wear) I saw him checking out Azania (my butt) and I knew he was of west African origin. The game hasn’t changed at all apparently.

Turns out I was right. Nigerian. Now normally a drunken guy checking out the butt would have gotten a sigh and teeth kiss  but by now we had switched onto strawberry vodka cocktails (much better) and I was bored as one of the guys we had come with was a bit weird. Long story short, American.

Cute guy was funny. He told me that he had a big cock. That he loved big butts, that he could lick p**sy for hours and would turn me inside out. I had to admit that his bragging was hysterically funny. He asked my friend to put in a good word for him. He had no shame. Had I met my match?

But alas I have been here before. I was slightly concerned to see that he managed to fit in 3 more last minute plays whilst the lights were on but hey, he was too drunk to reprimand.

Then he called. First from an unknown number. I told him that it wasn’t kosher. I assume you’re looking for money or are from Foxtons. (Do those people never give up?) I can’t be dealing with unknown numbers. He said that this was how his phone works. Now men are easy when their guards are down. I found out the following in one phone call

1)      He’s got 2 children and is 30 years old.

2)       He lives with the baby mother as he refuses to call her his partner in Kent!

3)      He also has a bachelor pad for when he needs time alone

4)      He has a big cock

5)      He has a big ego

4 and 5 may be the same thing, I’m not sure yet.

My thing is this ladies…men lie a lot in clubs, in the work place….let’s just say everywhere. Best sometimes you go along with the stories and then ask the questions that are important. He’s a cutie yes but a cutie with baggage. And he’s always calling from his car? Baby mother my arse.

Any hoo it passed the time at the bar and I learned never to buy prosecco at a vodka bar. But for me? Not the one.

© Chelsea Black

 

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