Friday night is going to be alright!

Friday evenings and the UK had endured a whole day of storm warnings. Storm Eunice had hit the island and we were still feeling it. Friday night used to be a great date night pre covid but not anymore. I’d planned to go to my couple friends house for a regular Friday dinner when I got a call from one of them saying they were at a pub and could I pick them up on the way? He pinned me the location which was a pub in Putney. I put on a hoodie, jeans, a puffa jacket and I prepared myself to march through Storm Eunice to the pub. I was going out out!  

The White Horse

I get to the pub and it’s full of white, young people living their life like it’s 2019. I walk in double masked looking for my friends. Eventually I find them, drunk at the back of the pub with a stranger. Immediately I sniff something’s up. Apparently yoga was cancelled due to the storm and they’ve been day drinking since about 3. It was after 6. I spot the glasses aren’t even half full so this is not a pick up. This is a set up! Yes, you guessed it; the stranger is a Black guy.

The target

I sit down, kicking myself for not making more of an effort with the look but I genuinely thought I was going to hang out at their house that night. Maybe Storm Eunice had helped a sister out and blown in a man for me. Yes, very Mary Poppins but you never know!

The dude and I chat and he seems nice. He’s great on paper and in real life. Stable business, divorced with beautiful children, well travelled, chatty. I wasn’t too impressed with his star sign etc but I was impressed that he knew his whole chart. Air signs.

I don’t think he’s had as much alcohol as my friends who are high fivving each other in the corner and giving me not so inconspicuous winks and thumbs up. Turns out he’s not as stuffy British as they initially thought as his naija accent keeps slipping out. I love me a naija accent though so we’re still in the game! Get in their Eunice.

How many drinks

By the time they were on their 4th bottle of red wine things were starting to take a bit of a turn. I don’t drink anymore but when I did drink I was a hyper drunk, chatting to everyone and getting decidedly flirty. He said that I was eccentric based on my hairstyle and very little else. I let it slide. We all use language differently. But the last time a dude called me unique he ghosted me for months. It’s not a good sign. A lot of men don’t seem to be into women they can’t categorise into virgin or whore.

When he drank some more

Then he started telling me how hard it was to be a Black man with money. Being sued, being treated like you weren’t intelligent etc. I gave suitable sympathy sounds and wondered when my friends would leave as I was starving at this point.  

He showed me photos of his cars. They were all black and navy blue but apparently I’m supposed to be impressed by their makes. And the watches. And his property portfolio. I would have been more impressed with experiences like food? There were also photos of women with arses. He explained that he had a big dick and had an arse fetish. Sigh. Then came the name dropping and I nodded as I thought of my missed dinner. He told me how he loved to date 5 people at once and could satisfy them all. I nodded and did the tight smile of someone day dreaming about food.

So it declined even further with some disparaging comments about his (all white) exes. Never a classy move. Then he got into two separate arguments with the group of friends. I was like, how are we this argumentative so quickly? I blame the tannins in that red wine. As you know talking about the exes is one of the dating blocks. It will never end well. This dude was angry and that’s a turn off. I’m also not sure he was that divorced but that’s my spidey senses working overtime.

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