So the Monday morning after a hectic weekend of socialising and networking I get a text message:
[Hey Buddy how’s it going?]
BUDDY!?! I asked who it was and he asked if I didn’t remember our passionate kiss at the bar on Friday? Hmmm, I put my thinking cap on, searched through my phone photos and was still flummoxed. I called my friends Linda and Jamel. Then I checked business cards from the networking event and realised that pre the champagne blurry end of the night I had indeed met this guy. But had I kissed him? Maybe he was pulling my leg but based on my then track record chances are he wasn’t lying.
Luckily he asked me out on a date. I was curious to see who he was but it was cold and I suggested that he come to my neck of the woods as who wants to leave Chelsea / Fulham? He came, we ate and I decided that even drunk I had good taste in bar snogs. As we parted he thought to remind me of our kiss and we snogged outside Fulham Broadway station….Nope! I told him that I still didn’t remember him. I guess the 1st kiss wasn’t that great?
But then I made that common mistake of deciding that I liked him. Cher was right – it was in his kiss! Strong, bossy and hot. He asked me out again on the Wednesday and I did what I always do and went into Type A overdrive. My male friend said I needed to talk less and listen more. I always let them talk more than me but apparently my stories weren’t always date worthy so …. less funny stories as men don’t do funny girls. Got it.
My girlfriends were all about the look and what I was going to wear. Not having the heart to face a hair salon I bit the bullet and finally made an appointment with @boudoirlashes to get my eye lashes done. Typically I wanted drag queen lashes but she was firm and clear. “We don’t do drag queen darling, we do pretty.”
An hour later I skipped out of the salon humming ‘I feel pretty’ and racing home to change. When I met him for dinner I did as instructed and fluttered my eye lashes without looking like I had a twitch and listened more than I talked. There was a tricky moment where he suggested that he would love for me to take him to a sex club and that’s when I realised that ….we were not a match. Besides, he was looking for someone to show him around London and I was looking for someone to hang with at home. Socialising is for my friends.
Like houses the 2nd date is all about finding out what’s wrong with each other and as he invited himself to my flat I figured that there really wasn’t much point in pretending that I wasn’t going to shag him. I’d already kissed him at the bar, right? I felt really grown up as we made out on the couch. My crush was already over and if nothing else I would have decent sex out of the whole experience. Then he delivered the killer line. “Can we be friends after sex?” We weren’t friends now so why would we be friends afterwards? The only way we can be friends is if he rocked my world. But I’m nothing if not generous and figured the least I could do was give him a….friendly audition.
Later as he ‘communicated’ incessantly through sex he asked me why I wasn’t answering his questions. Firstly I thought they were rhetorical, secondly er, I was listening and trying not to laugh as he growled and told me how much I deserved his cock, yeah, just like that girl, YEAH!! Honestly? He sounded like an early 90s hip hop porn star. You know the ones with their socks on and a chicken wing in one hand, their gold teeth catching the camera. And finally I didn’t answer his because as he worked up an impressive sweat (yes my flat is warm) I kept moving my head and trying to avoid the sweat splashes thinking “NOT ON MY NEW EYELASHES!” I think he thought I was swept away by his script….bless.
The next time and he was so overwhelmed by the Jubilee line closures that he took 2 days after the date to inform me that he wasn’t coming. I guess he must have found someone to take him to that sex club. But on a positive note I’ve made a new friend in @boudoirlashes and discovered that I, yes I, can look pretty …… with a little help from a friend. What more could a girl ask for? 😉
© Chelsea Black