The Dangers of Camping
12 days ago I spoke to a really lovely girl in a filthy rock club and assured her (tongue in cheek) that my drink, that she had just sipped, definitely did NOT have rohypnol in. She was sufficiently amused, or drunk, to give me her contact details.
7 days ago I went on a date with her and swiftly fell for her bewitching eyes, cheeky sense of humour and hint of geekyness. She also made me gleefully happier than I’ve been in well over a year just by walking along holding hands with me.
Tomorrow I will get in a car with Dragonforce and pick up this girl and her friend en route to Sonisphere where we will almost certainly all camp together for the 5 days.
This is going to be one hell of a second date!
Of course, if it WERE a date that would be easier. Obviously it’s not actually a date but it is certainly going to be an unprecedented opportunity. It’s also a very high risk strategy. There is a lot that could go very wrong and not just with my chances with Stripy Dress. DF is concerned that I am going to puppy-dog around after Stripy Dress and spoil her weekend. It’s caused a fair bit of tension.
I’ve learned from experience that opportunities like this do not come along very often and that this is almost certainly going to be a make or break in my chances with Stripy Dress. I like her a LOT. In the past I have just looked forlornly at girls I like and wish that some twist of circumstance brings us together and she falls for me.
It doesn’t work like that. I am never going to be that person again.
The last year has taught me a cornucopia of valuable lessons about women. Yes, I was playing the field to see what I could get, partly out of novelty value. I was taking approaches I would never have had the balls to in the past and been amazed at how much I had previously been missing out by being shy when it came to girls I was into. However during all this I was mentally racking up the dos and don’ts to stand me in good stead for when it actually mattered.
I wrote about this revelation in my very first post. It’s strange reading that now, after only about 6 months of blogging about this wager. In many ways a lot has changed. I have been on more dates than the entirety of my life before. I have learned about what I previously thought made my ideal woman. I have learned that hand-drawn pictures of animals being sick does not entice would-be spouses and I have learned to be weary of alcohol gel masquerading as soap.
However in some ways I had not moved on at all. I certainly did not feel any closer to meeting “…someone that makes my tummy feel funny…”, until now. Suddenly I really do care about how this works out. According to my original plan, all I have to do now is “impress her with my Twister skills*, romance her and marry her”.
Despite the potential for disaster this weekend, and DF’s vociferously stated concern, I am optimistic and confident that everything will be OK. Things may well not work out how I hope with Stripy Dress, but it will not be for lack of meaningful effort on my part.
I will not be following her around like a puppy-dog. I will not be fawning after her. I will do my own thing and if she wants to join us then that’s great because she is choosing to do so. If she is still interested after seeing me at some of my silliest, spazziest and roughest then that can only be a good thing. If not, well at least we cut to the chase fairly efficiently.
Whatever happens, this is going to be a fairly unique experience. Place your bets now ladies and gentlemen, I’ll let you know how it goes when I get back next week; possibly elated, possibly heartbroken but DEFINITELY hungover.
*Just in case an opportunity arises, I will be taking my Twister towel with me.