On Friday it was an old friend’s birthday. I’ve known her for years now, we almost kissed once but since then we’ve settled into an easy, honest friendship.
She is a Dominatrix.
Not the sort that just dresses up in leather and is a bit shouty, she is a serious Dominatrix.
I once asked her what she was doing in the evening and she said she was driving to Birmingham to sew up a man’s arsehole.
The mind boggles.
She is lovely though and working on her PhD so an pleasingly complex character, albeit a self confessed sadist.
Her birthday was in a club in East London and the dress code was 1940s. We arrived a bit late so the party was in full swing. Everyone had made a huge effort so the place looked amazing.
All the girls had Betty Page style fringes and feirce red lipstick. The men were mostly in suits some of them were even wearing gloves. My Dom chum had two slaves with her that night one who was her butler/driver and another who was sort of handmaid who would show his underpants on command. I was terribly impressed.
I chatted away to a few Doms about fetishes and the route of kinky stuff. One of them (who often works with my friend) as a real thing for copper. Yes the metal. I asked if brass would do, or perhaps bronze but no, it has to be copper. It made me a bit sad that I never carry any loose change.
We drank cocktails and talked nonsense with more people at the party. Biscuit made balloon moustaches for the ladies and a selection of rude hats for the men. There was a lot of drinking going on.
Biscuit pointed out that there was a person there who was exactly my type. Tall, leggy, strong features, good hair dark hair, clearly very clever and wearing a smashing frock. The only problem was it was a man.
Some time much later someone proposed to someone else with a Haribo ring. They accepted and paraded around the bar showing it off. This new couple then insisted that I propose to the girl I’d been chatting too. She was tall with thick black hair with a red bow in it and was wearing a wiggle dress.
The newly engaged couple were really quite insistent and so I was cajoled into proposing, with a Haribo ring. I can’t believe my first ever proposal was to a Dominatrix who I didn’t really know with fruit flavoured ring.
She accepted, on the condition of a very long engagement and then offered a ring to me. She didn’t use her hand, no she put it in her mouth and well, the exchange involved a bit more tongues that I expected.
It made Biscuit say ‘BLIMES’.
There was more drinking and talking but my fiancée and I parted ways because she was going off to a foot-fetish club and I wasn’t really in the mood to worship someone else’s feet. She was still wearing the ring as she got into the cab to leave.
I wish her well, but I think this is going to be an engagement I’ll have to back out of. I don’t even know her real name.
It had been a very strange evening.
The first half of this post is going to sound a bit stalker-ish but hold on it’s worth it.
Ages ago I got into an American TV show. So on Twitter I followed the writers and a few members of the cast including an extremely pretty woman.
She posted very amusing tweets, let’s call her Olivia because that’s not her name. Fairly normal so far.
Well over a year later I had a meeting with someone to discuss some business stuff. Nothing came of it but we got on and followed each other on Twitter. How modern.
Last week Olivia tweeted at the person I had a meeting about how she was coming to London and they should go out.
I saw this and thought ‘This blog has caused some amazing adventures, and the main lesson from it is just go for stuff, take a chance’.
Okay, I didn’t think exactly that I thought ‘OMG SHE IS COMING TO LONDON AND HE KNOWS HER I WONDER IF I CAN MEET HER’
So I emailed the guy and said this
Hi Mr Man,
I hope you are well.
I saw on Twitter that Olivia is going to visit your club on Thursday. I was wondering if it might be okay to pop in to say hello?
I’ve got such a crush on her, and it was a shame I missed her last time she was causing mayhem in London.
If it’s a off-the-radar visit for party times, so a bit of a no-no then I completely understand.
All the best,
He replied, and the key bit was
She is indeed fabulous – v good friend. Would be happy to introduce you. This thurs!
Bring a crew and I’ll sort you out a table if you like. On us. Then it’s not so obvious!
So he was going to introduce us. Huzzah! What a star!
The worst night ever
The plan was to meet at the club at 11. I had thing to do so I met up with my chums in a bar for a quick drink before going to the club. Biscuit was waiting outside with Jen.
We got into the VIP queue bit. The man in front of us got denied entry because he hadn’t booked. I told the door lady who I was and how I should be on a list somewhere.
She went away. For ages. And ages.
I got to stand around awkwardly while Biscuit, Jen and my chums looked me and said things ‘look it’s okay if we can’t get in we can find another club’.
They were only half joking.
The lady appeared and ushered us in. I had been told we’d have a table but there was no record of this. The man hadn’t turned up yet either.
We stood around and then bought some very, very expensive cocktails.
We drank them and the man still hadn’t turned up with Olivia. So we bought some more expensive cocktails.
The evening was starting to get very expensive. The club was rammed too, so people get bumping into us it, well it wasn’t that good an evening.
I apologised to everyone, I’d dragged them out to a busy club to spend a fortune on booze.
Then one of my chums suggested we get a huge cocktail to share. So we did. It involved a fireball. It was amazing. The fireball must have scared some people off because we suddenly had a table and a stupid drink.
The man tweeted me to say he was in the club with Olivia.
The best night ever
I tried to spot the man but I couldn’t see him so I circled the club a few times. No joy at all. Then, the sea of trustifarians parted and I saw him and I saw her.
She was much taller than I expected, and my word she was pretty. She was wearing black Basque-like top with a pink ruffled skirt, black tights and giant black heels. They were some serious shoes.
I said hello to the chap and he made the introductions. Olivia was extremely friendly. She complimented my trousers and asked to try a bit of my drink. She was quite tactile, but in a nice way.
A huge treasure chest of booze turned up with fireworks. We started drinking it and talking about how I knew the man and what she was doing here. You know little stuff.
Some more booze turned up on my chums table so went over and joined in the fun there. I was trying to play it cool of course.
Then I got Biscuit to make Olivia a balloon dog. It would be an understatement to say this was a big hit. She adored it and took loads of photos of us with the dog. Biscuit was then forced to make more and more balloon things including his infamous rude hat.
They went down brilliantly, more pictures were taken.
Olivia and I chatted some more, this time about you know, longer term plans and stuff. I said there would be dance off later, and while we might be friendly here there were no friends on the dance floor. She laughed.
Introduced her to my chums and she was perfectly charming. Jen said she thought Olivia was in to me. I tried not to get too excited.
I bounced between the two tables trying not to linger around her too often but really enjoying talking to Olivia about all sorts of stuff.
Play it cool Toast. Play it cool.
Rescuing a lady
Out of the blue another of the man’s friends grabbed me, a pretty red head with an extremely expensive haircut. She was with a chap who was being a bit forward and said she needed me to rescue her from him.
She asked me to save her so I did and we got chatting.
She had a boyfriend but was with another man who was being a bit weird. I said she could hide with us if she wanted so she joined our table. Introduced her to everyone and we got chatting.
She said I was cute. I said thank you. Then she said I smelled amazing. I said thank you again.
For a moment it looked like she was about to kiss me and then she pulled away and danced off into the club. I didn’t see her again but she had made a point of memorising my name from my business card.
After a few more drinks with my chums I returned to chatting to Olivia in a corner of the nightclub. We had really in-depth chat. She has a boyfriend, but he is new and she said she wasn’t so sure about him. We talked about boxing (she does it too) and a load of other things.
Proper things that you talk to people you properly know, not strange men in nightclubs who happen to have nice trousers.
Teaching an iPhone to pretend to be a Blackberry
She made me install an app on my phone so we could chat like people do with Blackberries, and entered her phone number into my phone. She also made me tweet a special keyword at her so she could follow me back.
We went out for a cigarette, she smoked I was just company, and talked some more about things, about London and hidden things and relationships.
I have to admit my memory is a bit hazy but at the time (I was utterly mashed by this point) I remember thinking it was nice and that she was really interesting. Really, really clever. Clever is good.
There was more drinking and more dancing, possibly a bit of a dance off. More photos were taken of us together, on her phone. There were a lot of photos that night.
It was 3am and the club was closing.
We said goodbyes, with great sadness. She said that she was working all day but that we should try to go out again before she leaves.
Biscuit, Jen and I got into a cab and went home. I had three hours of sleep and then had to go to work still drunk. It was totally worth it.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. Of course I’d love to, but even if I don’t I think that’s fine too, in it’s own way. We had one perfect magical London evening and sometimes that’s enough.
- Forcing Biscuit to make things out of balloons to impress girls always works.
- Asking random people to do you a big favour also works.
- It’s possible to sort of go on a date with almost anyone if you set your mind to it.
- London is amazing. Just Amazing.
- Everyone loves a dance-off.
Having accidentally (but happily) gained myself a promised American wife AND having been on a great couple of dates with Kim, I felt that this qualified the New York trip as an unmitigated success beyond my expectations. I specifically wasn’t looking to kiss any more girls.
As Saturday was (supposed to be) our last night in the the city, I had arranged to see Kim after work for drinking on the town and had invited Toast and MyLoveLifeInYourHands to join me after we’d had our fill at the brewery. I knew that Kim was planning for a messy night as she had some naughty pills that she was planning to share with a friend but thought it would still be fun.
You probably already know what happened, since Toast has spilled the greatest spoiler since revealing the end of Titanic: I kissed a girl.
I have several points in my defence but nothing that really excuses the behaviour:
- She looked like a young Claudia Winkleman.
- She had an initial air of ‘bemused quizzical indifference’ that piques my interest (in a Ramona Flowers style).
- The moment I heard her accent I fancied her.
- She had an adorable laugh and beautifully coy but sincere smile
- She saved my beer from being stolen TWICE.
- She looks hot in a balloon hat.
As I had arranged to meet Kim I held back from kissing her several times when the moment was conducive to it. The tension was becoming almost intoxicating, but I also knew that there was an outside chance that Kim might be joining us if her plans didn’t work out.
I got some increasingly mashed messages from Kim saying that her plans were all on and we should join her. By this point I was rather mashed myself and having way too much fun with present company to want to negotiate the subway network for the best part of an hour.
Eventually I got a slightly garbled message saying that she was staying out and I should join her. It was shortly afterwards that I kissed Claudia. Toast was making us pose for a photo looking wantonly into each other’s eyes. I can’t remember the scenario but the basic premise on Toast’s part was get me to kiss her.
We spent a lot of time talking whilst the others played pool in the next bar. I had already decided to stay. I felt really torn but I knew I wasn’t leaving Kim by herself and I was a little reticent to go given that she had obviously taken the naughty pills (yes, I clearly am attempting to justify my actions).
In a moment that almost made me melt because it felt like something straight out of a trashy American teen film, I had paused mid conversation and was just looking at her when she raised her eyebrow and said “I know that look, you want to make out don’t you?”.
‘Make out’! I’ve never heard that term used in its native context before!
We did make out and it was very good making out indeed. However it was making out in a bar and I think we had already breached the etiquette of the situation. As the others were all happilly engaged in pool and fledgling bar brawls I said “soooo… would you like to go and make out somewhere else?”
That’s how we ended up with a house guest the following morning.
After we had all had morning tea and I had walked Claudia to the subway station, I sat back in the appartment and said to the others “Oh god, I’m such a bad person”. Toast replied “You’re not a bad person, you’re just acting exactly like one”.
At no point have I ever gone out with the express intention of kissing girls and I’ve never kissed any girls or done naughty things just for the sake of it. With all of them I’ve seen potential for something more than hijinks. This however, does not stop me feeling like something of a womaniser.
Perhaps I’m just not ready for the power that an English accent bestows whilst in the States.
Marriage percentage: 35%. I can’t believe I’ve met three people who I would happily pursue a relationship with in the space of a week. I’m still not entirely sure how it’s all happened.
Lesson learned: Applebee’s really does have the WORST coffee I have ever tasted.
The day started rather late. Biscuit had appeared at about 9-ish looking and interesting combination of sheepish and pleased with himself. There was no sign of MyLoveLifeInYourHands.
Biscuit and I wanted to go shopping. Our chum still hadn’t appeared by midday and he wasn’t answering his phone so gave up waiting and set off out to see New York. We only had one key which made things more complicated but we figured that MyLoveLifeInYourHands was a big boy and could look after himself.
He called us back when we were just about to get on the subway and then appeared so we gave him the keys and set off out. It was a lovely warm day and Biscuit and I spent far too much money on things we didn’t need and saw some more things we’d always wanted to see.
The plan for this evening was to meet up with a girl who MyLoveLifeInYourHands had met on our first night in New York city. There was a brewery tour and then a bar afterwards. This seemed like a good plan.
We wanted to drop our shopping off before we went out so we had to co-ordinate a meeting with MyLoveLifeInYourHands near the flat. This didn’t go exactly to plan. He was lost somewhere in South Brooklyn and had the only keys to the flat. Biscuit and I waited on the steps for a bit until it was too cold and then went for the worst coffee I’ve ever had in Applebee’s.
MyLoveLifeInYourHands appeared and we went back to the flat to drop off bags and freshen up. Refreshed, we hopped on the subway up to the brewery and then waited in a queue for ages. We were about two hours late and were stuck in a queue that had formed. Yes we struggled to organise a piss-up in a brewery.
Eventually we got inside, poured amazingly cheap beer into our faces and then tried to find the girls MyLoveLifeInYourHands knew. We found them and started to get very drunk. They were pretty, and also tiny, so we towered over them.
Biscuit instantly took a shine to one of them and started making balloon hats for her. I have now learned that this is foreplay for Biscuit.
We stayed in the brewery drinking and larking around for well, ages. I think, until it had closed actually.
I can remember it getting really empty suddenly and someone with a broom asking us to leave.
MyLoveLifeInYourHands had been talking to one of the girls who had really curly hair and Biscuit had almost kissed the one he liked. We found out later that MyLoveLifeInYourHands snogged his curly-haired friend near the loos.
I had been happily chatting away to the third girl, who was the one MyLoveLifeInYourHands met on our first night. She was small with brown eyes and had her hair tightly tied back into a bun. She had a surprisingly deep voice.
We went to another bar nearby that had a pool table. MyLoveLifeInYourHands and Biscuit were supposed to be meeting Blossom and Kim respectively later in the evening. Both of them had now kissed at least one of the Brewery girls at this point.
Then we got introduced to triple kissing. It’s when three people kiss at once, not with tongues or anything. We were drunk, there were various demonstrations of how it works. Let me just state two things.
1) One of the girls said she had never triple kissed with two boys before, it seemed impolite to refuse that request.
2) I understand now why some girls don’t like kissing men with stubble.
Lets move on.
MyLoveLifeInYourHands and I played pool with two of the girls. Mixed teams, it was a surprisingly close match. He was probably the best player but his team-mate was triumphantly bad so it balanced out. She may have been playing extra bad so that MyLoveLifeInYourHands would lean over her and show her how to hold a pool stick.
I ended up kissing one of the brewery girls as part of the celebrations from potting four balls in a row. Yeah, you heard me, four balls, in a row. She said I smelled nice but kept doing an awful faux-English accent that made my ears sad.
A man tried to start a fight with me when I politely asked him to move so a brewery girl could take a shot. He got all offended and started doing the ‘strong gaze’ and mumbling threats.
I just looked back at him nonchalantly because I was mashed and not entirely sure what was going on. His friends dragged him out of the pub and we didn’t see him again. This probably looked cooler than it was.
In the mean time Biscuit had been snogging his new friend at a table. It was a very kissy evening. At some point MyLoveLifeInYourHands disappeared off to meet up with Blossom. Biscuit jumped in a cab back to the flat with his new friend. Poor Kim.
I stayed with the remaining two girls and we went on a pub crawl. I got a lot of secondary abuse from the girls because MyLoveLifeInYourHands had disappeared into the night. Apparently he should have stayed because he would have got some.
There was a bit more kissing, when appropriate, but eventually we left the bar and got cheese sandwiches from a deli.
I jumped in a cab and headed back to the flat. The cab driver had no idea where he was going and a 5 minute journey ended up taking 20 minutes which was probably for the best so I didn’t catch Biscuit doing something rude with his new friend on the sofa.
Eventually I crashed into bed absolutely ruinously drunk.
It wasn’t really a date but I’ll give a marriage percentage for the Brewery girl: 5% She was cute and quite good fun but the near constant faux-English accent made me wish I was deaf.
The cheese sandwich was amazing though. I’d like to see it again.
During the day New York continued to amaze and impress us.
We played on the giant piano from Big ($250,000 if you want your own), ate knishes (I’m going to miss them) and had conversations with complete strangers (about all sorts of things).
In the evening I’d arranged to do a ‘trivia night’ (pub quiz) with another girl off OkCupid, one that I’d been speaking to for a month or so.
Biscuit and I arrived at the pub early. It was called Common Ground and was pleasingly New Yorky. It had a long wide bar with polished rails and some tellys showing sports. When we arrived it was empty so we took up a place by the bar and ordered some beers.
I emailed the girl to say that we were early and to just say hello when she got in. Twenty minutes later I got a message back saying she was there. We turned around and they were sat behind us. She had brought a chum along.
The girl looked like a far more glamorous version of Blossom from the hit 90s TV show Blossom. Except she was wearing the regulation New York uniform of all black. Her chum looked exactly, I mean exactly, like a younger version of Marcy from Californication. She was also wearing black.
We had a few drinks, talked about places to visit. They were impressed by the bar that Biscuit and I had been to for second lunch and suggested a couple more places for us to go.
Some of ‘Blossom’s’ chums turned up for the pub quiz who were all excellent fellows apart from one of them, who was acting a bit weirdly and kept having whispery conversations with ‘Marcy’ at the bar.
Biscuit made balloon shapes for everyone to wear, which went down really well. Soon our entire team were sporting a range of balloon hats, glasses and swords.
Just before the quiz started, MyLoveLifeInYourHands turned up. There was a huge cheer and he told us all about his trip to DC. We got more drinks in and settled into the quiz. Blossom moved so she was stood next to MyLoveLifeInYourHands and they chatted away.
We did pretty well at the quiz until there was a round on Baseball and we walked out in protest over that.
Also we wanted to get some food. The slightly grumpy friend had left at this point, but was having a long text conversations with Marcy, who was ruinously drunk.
The next bar was a painfully cool jazz place. We sat on a low table. I was next to Marcy, who was constantly lit up by the screen of her phone and MyLoveLifeInYourHands was sat next to Blossom.
Biscuit was sat in front of us all and fading fast. I’ve never seen someone go from normal to broken so fast.
We ordered drinks and then were told that the kitchen was closed. We drank the drinks. MyLoveLifeInYourHands quizzed Marcy about the constantly texting.
Apparently the grumpy friend was sort of seeing her but had felt really threatened by three bumbling British types, yes the mind boggles, and so had stormed off into the night.
After the drinks we grabbed a cab home. Cabs are way cheaper in New York.
Marriage percentage: 10%, she was fun, but I suspect she has designs on MyLoveLifeInYourHands…