Well I know quite a few of you have been eagerly awaiting an update on Football Guy, so here goes…
The conversations with Football Guy (the young Larry Fishbourne lookey-likey I met at the ice rink) have been getting more and more flirtatious, nothing too outrageous really but I suspect things are about to step up a gear as I invite him for dinner at mine. Firstly there’s the consideration of what to cook…. I don’t want to get too fancy by showing off my culinary skills with some fancy-pants duck confit (besides I’ve never cooked that in my life) so I decide to cook good hearty “Man Food” – Chilli con Carne instead – without the beans mind you. Much as I love chilli made with kidney beans I’m not prepared to deal with the embarrassing digestive after-effects, hardly conducive to setting a romantic or seductive ambience.
I spend the day cleaning the house, ensuring my flatmate is out for the night and that my legs are as smooth as a newborn with alopecia. The evening arrives, my house has never looked so clean and my legs, my legs are so silky smooth that they could talk a man into bed faster than Justin Timberlake could serenade a girl out of her panties! But of course, I’m making no assumptions on how the evening will progress…. (yeah right!) But it always pays to be prepared, and I say this from experience. Years ago I was dating a guy who I was yet to get to know “intimately”. I was extremely keen but didn’t want to jump into bed too soon, so I took the precaution on our next date of not shaving my legs and wearing probably the least sexually appealing lingerie I owned (you know the ones you save for weekends at home where you’re pretty sure you’re not going to leave your bed let alone your room. – These ones were so unflattering I don’t think you could even use the word Lingerie in the same sentence, even M&S circa 1990 would be insulted. But testament to my overactive young libido and that of the young man who was trying to get me out of said undergarments, we didn’t let the matter of my hideous underwear, and legs you could sand concrete with get in the way of proceedings. No, far from it! It just meant that I spent an inordinate part of the evening’s foreplay apologising for my unappealing underwear (all the more reason to hastily remove it) and for the minor flesh wounds my unshaven legs must have inflicted on him.
His revenge in turn was swift and to the point – we’d been out for one of those ‘wonderful’ Chinese eat all you can buffet meals (yes I was used to the finer things in my formative dating years too) earlier that evening, and in the throes of passion he both belched in my face and broke wind simultaneously – and yes it was at the worst point in proceedings you can imagine. To make matters worse, after falling asleep in post-coital bliss, I awoke after a rather traumatic dream of being at sea, to find that he had dribbled in his sleep, directly into my shell-like ear. Now you may think, where the hell do you go from there??? Well I can tell you, straight into a long and passionate relationship of course! I figured it couldn’t get much worse than that, surely with all those illusions broken so early on things could only get better, and to be fair it did. He learned to sleep with his head well away from mine and I went and got myself some new underwear. But all good things come to an end and I learned a valuable lesson… no matter what, always be prepared, and remember, there’s no shame or embarrassment great enough to stop me from getting my freak on if I’m in the mood.
But back to the matter in hand. My house was ready, my legs were ready and I was suitably made up and attired to look like minimal effort had gone into my preparation. Of course the truth of the matter was several hours of preparation and debate over what to wear – in this case tight jeans and a fitted top… and decent underwear of course. I picked Football Guy up and took him back to mine where we were greeted by the delicious aroma of home cooked “Man Food”. We eat, we make conversation, we move to the sitting room and spend an hour or so looking at music videos on youtube in a game of one-upmanship as to who can find the coolest video. We veer from old school R&B, Hip-Hop into contemporary with a few random tunes thrown in the mix to try and be clever – Ok I admit, it was me trying to be clever and show off my music knowledge, but I’ll also admit I eventually lost the music battle.
Food digested (without any embarrassment) and time killed sufficiently so that it didn’t look too obvious that all either of us really wanted to do was, in the immortal words of that wiser than their years warrants duo, Rizzle Kicks, to “skip to the good bit”.
And ooooh boy… Was it ever the good bit!!! The man has such amazing bedroom skills that it pretty much confirms that he has to be bad news – no-one gets that good without a fair bit of practice. His protestations that he’s really a shy boy who struggles with women falls on deaf ears. Now I’ll confess it wasn’t the adventuresome sex marathon of Pubic School Boy, but sometimes good old vanilla can hit the mark even better than the most convoluted ice cream flavours with extra toppings. I start to wonder if I’ve hit the jackpot, could this be something? We definitely have chemistry, we get along well – granted we don’t have the most stimulating of conversations but we do have a laugh.
Sadly though my post-coital glow and overly optimistic conjecture is rudely interrupted as a short while after (my pride says an hour but the reality is closer to 20 minutes at a push), Football Guy says he has to go home as he doesn’t have his contact lens case with him… Hmm, I begin to suspect that what seemed too good to be true is exactly that, too good to be true. I drop him off, return home and although I’m left satisfied on one level I’m also left feeling slightly empty and possibly even duped on another.
A few day later and we are talking on the phone, we’d already had some conversations about what we’re both looking for. I’ve been straight up about not wanting just a casual fling and he’s said he’s not really looking for a relationship per se. It’s a difficult conundrum we face, and a lot of the issues around this come down to the way men and women communicate what they want from each other. As a woman we often say we’re looking for a relationship, and in one sense we really are. But that doesn’t mean we want to skip getting to know someone to see if they’re right for us. When we say we want a relationship it means we don’t want meaningless sex that’s guaranteed to lead no-where. We certainly don’t want to jump into a full blown committed relationship from day one either, we want to see where things go knowing we’re not heading down a dead-end street. The problem is when a guy says he isn’t looking for a relationship per se, it doesn’t instil much confidence for the woman concerned. Now some men I’m sure mean what they say, they’re not looking but at the same time they’re not going to turn down a relationship if it ends up heading that way. On the other side of the coin though there are guys who are not looking, really don’t want anything more, and will run several hundred miles as soon as it looks like the woman concerned has even the vaguest interest in anything more than what is in his trousers.
But how do we work out which is which? Well if I had the answer to that, I’d have a billion copy selling book and all the bad boys would have a contract out on me for spoiling their fun. Ok ok, I will concede there are times when all we want is no strings fun and when the two needs coincide it can be a beautiful thing indeed. In this case though, I’m not so sure. We end up having a far too deep and meaningful conversation at such an early stage, where he confirms that he’s not looking for anything serious and I say I don’t do casual flings. It would seem we are at an impasse already. I ask if he is adamant that he wants nothing other than casual fun and explain that although I can start casual I can’t start something knowing that there is absolutely no chance of anything more coming of it. To be honest I shouldn’t be surprised, I’m ten years older and he’s got a long way before he’s going to be ready to commit to anything more meaningful than a 12 month mobile phone contract.
So the conclusion to this discussion is that he’s not totally discounting the possibility of something more coming of this but there are no guarantees of that happening either. I tell him I need to think about whether I can accept that or not and that I’ll get back to him. Ok I know I’m probably on a hiding to nothing here but damn that ‘ice cream’ was good!
What this does mean though for sure is that I’m still keeping my options open and certainly not putting all my dating eggs in one metaphorical basket. I go back to the old faithful list of online profiles and find that I have an email from a new prospective guy. This one is in his thirties, looks more like Mr Reliable than Mr You Can Rely On Him For One Thing And One Thing Only; and as he’s from the website, I can only presume (make that hope) that he’s interested in something more than just the obvious. It’s early stages with him though so I’ve still some time to make up my mind about Football Guy and that potential minefield.