Oh I cannot believe what I did last night. No, I can believe it, I just was not supposed to behave that way. Horrible, horrible behaviour, I thought to myself as I woke up at 5.45 am on my couch, wearing nothing but my green skirt and a bra. Who does that on a Monday night? You are not an Osbourne, Jups!
I should have woken up in my bed. What kind of man offers to drop a very drunk girl home, then tries to have sex with her, failing which then does not put her in her own bed? It was decidedly a rubbish, crude ending to what had actually been a rather superb second date.
I got to the tapas restaurant quite early. This is when I surround myself with thoughts that my date is going to stand me up and I will be the sad loser drinking a medium bodied red alone. He arrived maybe 3 minutes late. He was wearing a sweater over a cute navy checked shirt. He was a handsome devil. The minute I realized that I knew I was in trouble. I was already giggling too much for someone who had barely sipped her first drink.
The attraction was palpable and sitting at the bar counter of a tiny tapas bar with very little distance between us certainly did not help matters. We barely broke eye contact. There were several instances of gently placing one’s hand on the small of the other’s back. The conversation was ridiculous and fun (for some reason I found myself defending syphilis in the context of art and even the chefs were baffled at me – children, don’t bring up VD during a date). But as I have said many times, I am weird and I can’t hide it for too long.
He didn’t let me pay. He indignantly asked me to put my card away when I tried to split the check. (Here comes trouble, I thought, I find it deliriously sexy when a man flat out refuses to let me pay). I insisted on buying him a drink at the next bar. He didn’t let me pay after that one drink. Which is to say that we drank more in yet another bar. At the first bar itself, he kissed me roundly on my right cheek after teasing me about my brand new Brian Atwood boots whose heel snapped in half while I was simply standing (yes my boots broke!). That kiss? I was a goner.
I asked him about our match percentage. “80%”, he said as he put both arms against the small of my back. I did the same. And you know what I said? “Your sweater is cashmere!” I told you, I can’t hide the weird. Good dressers are hard enough to resist without being dark and lean and cheeky and handsome. I am not saying he was flawless – he’s quite skinny (I’m not), he is mostly vegetarian (I’m not), and he ate less than me during dinner!
I can’t remember when or where we started making out furiously. I want to say he initiated it but I can’t be entirely sure. I think we were in the middle of Staunton street. He said he’d drop me home. And that’s where things took an unromantic turn. We didn’t have sex, thankfully, because I couldn’t. And I drunkenly said to him “so there’s not going a third date is there?” and he corrected me. But now I wonder about the motive of the third date, if and when it does materialize.
In the meantime, we have exchanged several messages today, cheeky ones, and I let him know that I wasn’t happy about waking up shivering. I’ve managed to forgive him for now but between the blankets and being mostly vegetarian, he’s on a thin frikkin leash. On the other hand, I am afraid I am not match for his badboyness. I told him we are doomed to fail because if I tried to eat like he did, I’d always end up blind-drunk. His messages imply that there will be a third date but he is off to India for two whole weeks and that’s like ten years in dating time.
In hindsight, I have told myself to be slightly more careful and controlled on dates. Pink has given me 3 rules of engagement for the rest of my 2013 dates:
- no getting drunk (must line stomach, must not drink during periods)
- no having sex before 3rd date (technically I didn’t and frankly I wasn’t planning to anyway)
- no falling in love too quickly (in my defense I fall out of it quickly too!)
Despite my wretched state today, I am going to go to my date tonight with the scientist. I am very excited about him because he seems very polite. He confirmed our date last night and gave me 3 places to choose from. We are finally meeting at an oscure French bar to drink wine, eat cheese and play Petanque. I am already giving him brownie points for politeness. Stay tuned for more misadventures.