How Eurovision got me in trouble
I had a date on Saturday to meet a girl for coffee. We met on The Strand. She was short and curvy, with long dark hair and very good eye-liner.
She was wearing a black dress with a black cardigan over the top.
We said our hellos and then strolled over to a nice coffee shop I know nearby. The conversation was easy and by the time our ridiculous cakes arrived we were giggling away about brass rubbings and plays.
She works in the theatre and so we were talking about things to do with that as well as the usual family/growing-up/plans for the future stuff.
There was a lot of laughing and the conversation flowed easily, I was having a lovely time.
I had to go home to do some work stuff so we parted ways with plans to meet up again in the week, possibly to see a show.
Normally I’d put a marriage percentage in here and it would have been reasonably high but I’d not accounted for the magic of Eurovision.
Later on that evening
I was doing my work stuff while she was at a Eurovision party with some gay friends. I had received a few text messages from her about the acts on Eurovision and had been replying when I could.
She invited me to join her and her chums at a super gay club after I’d finished working. I was pretty tired but we had got on before so perhaps it would be fun. Also, this blog makes you say yes to things.
At about 11:30 I had finally finished working so I changed into a better shirt and caught the tube over to the club.
While I was underground she had called a few times and sent some text messages. She was clearly mashed.
I turned up and she introduced me to her gay chums, one of whom looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t work out why.
We went inside and got some drinks. She kept pushing up against me. Not a subtle brush or a ‘whoops I didn’t mean to do that’ no this was just shy of a martial arts manoeuvre. I would back away to give her room and she would move closer.
I bought a round of drinks and chatted to her friends. That was when I recognised the faintly familiar one. He is in a band, quite a well known band (They’ve sold a million records), who I’ve seen perform earlier in the week. It really is a tiny world sometimes.
There was more chat, and she was drunkenly pressing up against me some more. The club was loud so I was talking into her ear, she kept trying to kiss me. Then she just asked if she could kiss me. I said okay. So we kissed.
She was really very kissy. Now I’m fine with public displays of affection but this was getting a bit out of control.
She was snogging my face off and trying to undress me. She managed to unbutton most of my shirt before I caught her. I felt sorry for the poor gays in the club, they didn’t want to see this.
She also kept saying how much she liked me. I think she said it about a dozen times, actually probably more than that.
We tried to do a bit of dancing but she was so interested in rubbing up against me that if I lifted one of my feet off the floor I was in danger of falling over. So when she suggested we leave I said okay.
We caught a cab back to her place. It was only a short journey but in that time she revealed her some-what disastrous dating history and how she’d manage to destroy a previous relationship by being to aggressively needy. Even in my slightly drunk state I realised that was a bit of a warning sign.
I toyed with the idea of asking the cab man to just take me home but I didn’t want to seem rude.
Back at the house
Back at her place she made me a lovely glass of water and told me she really liked me some more. As I’m sure you can guess things got a bit naked at this point.
The most alarming point of it all was when she tried to remove the condom because she wanted me to, well she wanted the thing that the condom stops to happen. I told her no, because that causes babies, she was noticeably put out by this.
Some time later we both fell asleep. My dreams all involved running away, from a fire, a flood and even spiders. This may have been my subconscious trying to tell me something.
The next morning I waited until about 9am and made my excuses and left.
Marriage percentage: 5% – If we’d just had the first date it would have been high but she was a so full on and the stuff with the condom was well, a bit scary.
If anyone needs me for the rest of the day I’ll be in the shower with all my clothes on rocking myself.