17. Popcorn Like It’s Hot

Well picking up from last week, ‘surprisingly enough’ Graffiti guy wasn’t so keen to just be friends as I’d suggested, and to be fair I totally understand – no-one goes on these dating sites thinking “Hey, I’m single, desperate and lonely enough to ask a computer to fix me up and pay a fortune for the privelage.  But actually, what I really want is a friend who I’m crazy about but doesn’t fancy me in the least so that I can find true, unrequited love and write lots of dark, bitter and desperate love poems about them”.  You know what… to be fair, there’s probably a few people out there doing just that!  God knows, I’ve written enough self- indulgently depressive poems in my time (teenage years being the most inspirational period of my life thus far.

But I remain optimistic, Sports Agent Toyboy – ok that’s a little long-winded so lets refer to him by the profession he represents which is football… Football Guy is most definitely still a contender.

We’ve been texting flirty but pretty tame messages for a while and had decided to go to the cinema.  I picked him up from the station and we went back to my house to look online and decide what movie to watch.  This should have been my first indication of what was to come, the fact that he suggested coming to mine to pick a movie.  Amateur mistake I know, and one I should not be making at my age… We should have just met at the cinema.  C’mon woman…why didn’t we just meet at the frikkin cinema – thus avoiding the temptation to get rather heated before your date has even commenced.  But as I say the mistake was made and we proceeded to chat mundanely, enquiring how each other’s weeks had been.  I then introduced him to my two cats that inexplicably scared the shit out of him (I say inexplicably as one of them is tiny and scared of men, and the other has serious emotional attachment issues – he’s very clingy and insecure – yes my cat does need therapy, and is therefore,  excuse the pun ‘a bit of a pussy’).

So sorry where was I?  Ahh yes, hot young guy in my house cowering on the corner of my sofa, trying to get away from two small and socially indifferent cats – and of course sensing his abject terror, the emotionally insecure one started rubbing up against Football Guy’s leg.  So after removing both cats from the room and he starts to breath normally again, we chat some more, we make eyes, and then we make out… for quite some time.  I will add that during this whole make-out session one foot was kept firmly on the floor like any good self-respecting Edwardian woman would.  But, oh dear… at some point one of us had to rein things in and re-establish that we were actually going to go out to on a date.  That person I am proud to say, was me.  I withdrew to the other end of the sofa and rather breathlessly said we should pick a film and get out of the house before things got too out of control.  Out of control???  Hahahahaha, I’m not sure that I’m ever really in control where he’s concerned.  But I used all my many years of experience of being around horny young guys and focused all my powers on ensuring that we did actually leave the house.

So movie picked, we left for the cinema, and sat in a darkened room for just over two hours, with a crowd of strangers and did not touch each other – Ohh the restraint I hear you cry, how did you ever hold yourself back? I hear you ask.   Well to be fair it was actually a great movie, I thank the Gods of Chastity for making that film as interesting as it was.

So movie done and popcorn ingested, we head back to mine for a coffee…  Ok, who am I kidding, I don’t even drink coffee!  So movie done and popcorn ingested, we head back to mine to make out for a bit longer, and yay for me, that’s all it was, a bit of ‘heavy petting’ on the sofa and no funny business thank you very much!  I then sent him on his way and headed back home thoroughly horny and wound up tighter than an ADHD kid left in the pick n mix section of the cinema for two hours and then been told to sit quietly and watch a nice documentary on interior design in the 15th century.

Needless to say I’m a practical girl so I decided to take matters into my own hands.   I’m not adverse to doing a bit of DIY to release some of that pent up energy – In fact I’d go as far as to say that it’s good for the soul, and if you don’t do it well you’re either Cliff Richard or you’re in danger of self combusting one day, you have been warned.  And when I say DIY, no I’m not talking about putting up shelves at 1am in the morning.  Oddly enough – well not that oddly I suppose, Football guy had similar ideas to me, no sooner had I started to amuse myself than I get a text from him saying how much he’d enjoyed my company, to which I reply likewise, and faster than you can type ‘dirty texting’ and we’re full on ‘sexting’!  In fact at one point I paused so long between messages that he guessed before I even had time to tell him that my shelf was well and truly ‘nailed’ to the wall.

So it’s fair to say that there’s a bit of sexual chemistry between the two of us and we’re very comfortable around each other.  Thing is, I’m just not sure if there’s anything more sustainable between us.  There are already small alarm bells sounding that this guy is a bit of a player.  He’s good looking, he can unfasten a bra in under two seconds with one hand (OMG! I’m ashamed to admit this but that is sooo sexy!!! I’m not lying, his bra skills had me trembling!), and he kisses like a born again sinner!  None of which really shouts boyfriend material.  But for now I’m happy to keep the heavily steamed up rose tinted glasses on and hope that my instincts are wrong on this occasion.

In the meantime though, I have a new internet guy who’s been messaging me and wants to meet up.  He’s actually someone who I’ve been in contact with for a couple of weeks – the whole ‘guided communication’ thing does drag on and I have to admit, I can find the whole ‘choose three questions, then choose another dozen more, wait for answers, reply to his questions, send a list of deal breakers, then a list of deal makers, then some more frikkin questions and, ahh what the hell, tell us your whole life story why don’t you’ business a bit tedious at times.  But what can I say, some people feel more comfortable having conversation suggested to them to begin with.  We can’t all be socially adept and cunning linguists now can we?

Which reminds me of my first and I wish I could truthfully say, only (but I’d be lying) foray into the world of speed dating…

Yes I too have stooped that low, I too was that desperate being, out with another single and desperate female friend, defiantly declaring that we were “only going for a laugh” but secretly hoping against all discernible logic that we would meet our Prince Charmings across a sticky, drink-stained table.

Ahh how naïve we were, ahh how hideously drunk we had to make ourselves after the trauma we endured that is Speed Dating.  But oh, how we laughed… after the event was but a distant and slightly traumatic memory.

The event that we ended up choosing was at a pretty cool and rather kitch cocktail bar, one of those tiki bars where you buy drinks that fit inside treasure chests and cost the equivalent your average person’s monthly wage – before tax.  This particular event had the added exciting element of trying to find the person of the opposite sex who had the punchline to the joke that you were given upon entry to the venue.  Oh and there was also a photo wall where you could get your polaroid taken and people could leave ‘notes for you next to your picture.  All of course, ingenious devices to help aid the terminally socially inept to get over their nerves, and talk to someone of the opposite sex.  Or in our case, not being shy or retiring ladies in the least, enabling us to talk to as many random guys as is possible in one night.

Now granted there were guys there who, like us were more than capable in social settings, who were ‘there for a laugh’, so we figured the evening wasn’t going to be a total write-off.  And the cocktails were amazing!   I managed to strike up a bit of a rapport with one of the barmen, who kept me liberally hydrated with some wonderful concoction that was served in a cute miniature metal bucket (I think it only fair to state that had he not served me so many of said delicious beverages I would never have thought to take the bucket home with me as a lasting memento of the evening).

So on to the actual speed dating, and the point I was trying to get to in my usual meandering way.  It was at this point in the evening that it was further reinforced why speed dating still exists.  It is there to help those who cannot or do not know how to communicate with other human beings – or at least that was the case with the stream of men sent my way.  It was halfway sitting through another 3 minutes of excruciating awkwardness that I turned to my friend who was trying desperately not to laugh in the face of the poor man she was sitting opposite, that we began to suspect that perhaps our Prince Charmings had decided to give this particular social gathering a miss.

On the bright side we did actually get to talk to a couple of normal guys and I even exchanged numbers with one of them; but not before one final demonstration of why I’m never going to find my Prince at a speed dating event.  Whilst talking to one of the ‘normal’ guys my friend came over to me and tells me that one of the guys I’d spoken to during the speed dating section of the night really wants to talk to me…  Really??? A grown man (and this man was in his 40s) has to ask my friend if she can ask me if he can talk to me???  I felt like I was back at school, except with less spots and better heels.  I looked around, and there he was sheepishly waiting behind a pillar to see if I would accept his advances.  Now had this been some time in the 17th or possibly even 18th century, and I were dressed in an overly tight bodice, fluttering a fan in front of my face, whilst praying that my family doesn’t succumb to the dreaded pox, I may well have considered his gentile advances.  But this is the 20th century, and if you want to talk to me, well your best bet is to ask me in person.

So there you have it, the reason I don’t do speed dating.  The only other time I did go to one of these torturous events was when a friend begged me to go to a ‘comedy speed dating’ event held in the middle of the day.  Everyone was painfully sober and the comedians only felt slightly less uncomfortable than the audience of a dozen or so lonely strangers in the three quarters empty room.  In fact the only reason I even let myself be persuaded to go was because it was free and my friend had a crush on the compere/organizer of the event.  On the up side she ended up going home with him – so it wasn’t a complete loss for her at least.


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