Does a kiss make it a date?

Biscuit

“Do it, and I’ll kill you” – Fuckwittery, at 9am this morning on this post happening.

I wasn’t allowed to post this originally. There was 4 hours of debate over whether this post would ever happen. This was entirely my fault. I made a promise that I shouldn’t have made… a promise that was directly in conflict with an earlier promise that I had made to Toast… and to you.

Bad Biscuit.

Despite attempting to be anonymous we have already met quite a few cool people as a direct result of writing this wager. Toast had originally contacted Fuckwittery to ask if she wanted to go on a blind date with me. She said she was too busy to go on any dates but was happy to set me (and Toast) up with her unsuspecting lovely friends.

As a result of this contact both Toast and I had been chatting to her via text and the occasional phone call (partly just to clarify the whole ‘Lauren’ situation).

On Tuesday night I spoke to her for the first time (concerning the fictional Lauren). This turned into quite a long telephone call. 5 hours to be specific. I had not spoken to a girl on the phone for 5 hours since I was with Aussie and we were on the opposite side of the world for a few months.

Curiosity getting the better of us, we agreed to meet up over a drink and I promised to debrief her on the blind date with her best friend. She said “you’re not going to write in this up are you”? Since it wasn’t a date, and slightly overcome with awe at just having spent SO long talking, I willingly agreed.

“alright, you can do it but you have to change some details” – Fuckwittery at 11am this morning.

At this point I would like to state that I met Fuckwittery at *Edinborough* station. She was wearing a *red* dress and *black* pretty shoes. She had bountiful curly brown hair, a cheeky grin, naughty eyes and the most impressive norks.

As we walked into the wine bar, I suddenly recognised it as the one that Indy took me to and I had spent the last 6 months trying to find again. At this point I vowed to myself not to shout “VAGINA” at all during our visit.

We got on well. We got on very well actually.There was light ribbing and lots of giggling. Lots of giggling and naughty eyes.

“I appreciate the need for a good story” Fuckwittery at 12am this morning.

I might have kissed her first.

She might have kissed me back.

We might have been heckled by a homeless person for snogging too much in the street.

I might have repeated my promise that I wouldn’t write it up… until Toast read me the riot act about rule 6.

I am obliged to rate a marriage percentage. Actually, considering this was a ‘not date’ it’s a very respectable 25% (I do know that whatever I put here I will probably get abuse).

Lessons learned:

• I shouldn’t make promised to girls I’ve never met, no matter how doe-eyed they make me go.
• I shouldn’t make promised that are in direct conflict with other promised I have made. This is BAD.
• Rule 6 is important and we can’t start moderating the blog or it becomes pointless and boring.
• Writing this post has felt a little like a communist-style self criticism, outlining all my shortcomings. I should at least get a little red book for my efforts.
• It’s not entirely my fault. Fuckwittery is a lethal combination of the things that I have serious weaknesses for in a girl.
• Don’t send friends on blind date that you might want to go on.

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