Last night there was a small gathering of some of the regular characters on the blog. MyLoveLifeInYourHands was around with the visiting Marni (also known as Blossom on this blog), FleetStreetFox was celebrating her birthday and some of the Schwingalong Girls were out.
I had invited the Theatre Producer along too. We were going a fancy pants party, but it didn’t start till later so we joined the gang in a pub for a few drinks before the bash.
There was a lot of giggling. The girls were all exceedingly well dressed, lots of floaty dresses, power pencil skirts and some-what optimistically shorts. Optimistic because the weather hasn’t been exactly great.
Everyone got on very well.
The whole affair was terribly pleasant, but also had a hint of MyLoveLifeInYourHands and I presenting girls we like to Her Royal Foxyness for judgement.
I had tried to get Biscuit to appear too with Jen (who has already been fox-judged) but he made up some rubbish excuses.
After a few drinks the Theatre Producer and I walked over to our swanky party. There was free champagne and a BBQ with proper grown-up food. Not tiny canapés. This was a very pleasant surprise and so we set about eating and drinking slightly too much while playing ‘Is that a famous person?’
While we were playing this game the bar ran out of pink champagne, so we had to slum it and switch to normal coloured champagne. Tough times.
Some time later we went back to the Theatre Producers place, which incidentally is a proper grown-ups house rather than the ‘Lost Boys nest’ that Biscuit and I live in.
She gave me the presents she’d got me in America, they were all silly, pointless and lovely. The stand-out items were three water-pistols that were shaped like dinosaurs. She said she’d got three so she, Biscuit and I could use them at the same time. I thought that was unbelievably sweet.
We chatted, I was given the guided tour and ended up staying the night.
The next morning I quizzed her on important facts. I’d already decided that I wanted her to be my girlfriend so I was just clearing up some final details which included her views on white chocolate, avocados, robots and David Bowie’s trousers in Labyrinth.
She passed all the questions and so I asked her, “So Theatre Producer, will you be my totally awesome girlfriend?’
She said yes. She also said that she’d never been properly asked out like that before. Men of the world, up your game.
When she was out of the room making me a cup of tea I punched the air and said ‘Yesssssssssss’.
Marriage percentage: 56% – Steadily rising.
Biscuit should start looking decidedly nervous if he has any sense.
So the Theatre Producer is back today. Actually by the time this appears on the website she will have landed. I’m writing at at 5am. Why you may ask?
Because I’m a bit of a berk who gets ideas.
Way before she set off on her grand adventure to America she mentioned when she was coming back. Specifically when she was returning. on a 7:30am flight. At that time I decided I was going to meet her when she arrived and it was going to be a surprise.
The airport is on the other side of London so it was going to require a super early start and also shuffling some stuff around at work.
At first I thought I could meet her at the airport and then go into work a little late but in the end I took the morning off which is possibly nicer because it means I don’t have to rush back to the office after greeting her.
I also had to employ a mutual friend as a spy to confirm the time of the flight to make sure I didn’t end up in the wrong place.
Being a bit of a romantic berk I decided that meeting at the airport wasn’t enough. I have got her flowers as well and also made a sign. I’ve never arrived anywhere and had one of those men waiting with a sign but I’ve always thought it would be cool.
I’ve also made her up a little goodie back. It’s a special ‘You’ve returned to London’ goodie bag featuring all the things she would need to get after returning to London but that might not be in the flat.
Miniature bottle of champagne,
A newspaper and magazine,
And some other things that I’ve forgotten for the moment (it is very early).
I’m going to head to the airport in a moment, she still doesn’t know I’m going to be there. I think I’ll send her at text when I arrive with perhaps a clue or something so she can begin to suspect while waiting at customs. That way she can have a delicious moment of realisation before seeing with the flowers and the bag and the home-made sign grinning like a loon in the arrivals bit of the airport.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
Last night I went out with a chum, one who has decided she will be known as the Editor.
This was arranged ages and ages ago before I’d even met the Theatre Producer, before even the New York Trip.
But, well it just so happens that the Editor is the mutual friend who I know the Theatre Producer through. Life is weird sometimes eh?
Because of this there may have been a bit of polite information gathering going on in-between drinking galleons of champagne and downing oysters.
Yes, I know sometimes my interrogation methods can seem a bit tough but I get results.
I’m like the Jack Bauer of dating, but with better trousers.
My last date was a bit of a wash-out, so I started thinking about better dates I had been on.
You know the sort of dates that seem almost unreal because they are so magical.
I tried to think of five really good examples, but since four of them ended with a first kiss I thought I’d write that up instead.
So here are my top five first kisses, in no real order.
She was the friend of someone I worked with. One of those painfully cool East London types who worked as a jewellery designer. She had a way of standing that was sort of childlike but also cocky at the same time. Her hair was dark and short, in a 1930s bob and she always had amazing accessories for every outfit. I fancied her instantly and spent months making sure we bumped into each other.
She asked me to a Great Gatsby themed party at her house. I spent ages working on my outfit and even bought some vintage champagne glasses to complete the look.
The party was excellent, a perfect summer’s day and a house full of jolly types drinking cocktails and discussing the book. The next day, we were lying on the lawn reading the Sunday papers and giggling while drinking frozen cocktails out of jam jars.
I still wasn’t sure if we were ‘just friends’ at this point. She was reading me something from the fashion pages, I gulped twice, leaned in and kissed her. She kissed me back.
I’d just moved to London, I’d been there perhaps a week or two. We met through a silly website and agreed to go for a drink on Sloane Square (V. posh area of London). On our first date we went to a gig and then ended up in the VIP area of a nightclub in Mayfair. She was six-foot tall, with long dark hair and beautiful.
I ordered us some drinks, I can remember it was three vodka and cranberry juices. We talked for a little while. I struggled to keep up because she was just so attractive I found it hard to concentrate near her. I’d never met anyone like her before.
The music was loud, so we had to lean into each other to talk, this evolved into almost touching our faces together to talk into each other’s ears. I can remember my knees going a bit wobbly. My heart was racing and then we kissed.
The Travel writer
This started off by accident. We met over lunch to discuss work things a couple of times, and the lunches got increasingly more boozy and less about work. She was tiny with sparkly eyes and thick dark hair.
I invited her around for supper. Butternut squash soup with freshly made bread rolls. Roast duck with a selection of roasted vegetables (duck and veg from my mum’s farm) and strawberries.
I lived in an amazing flat at the time that was on the river. We took the strawberries and champagne out to the harbour. It was a little bit chilly but we’d both drunk enough to not really feel it.
The view across the Thames was amazing, it was a full moon. I loosened the lid off a bottle of champagne. Just as the cork popped off and bubbles went everywhere, we kissed.
We worked together for six months, and had lunch together almost every day. She was tall with dyed red hair, that sort of fake red that is more of a maroon. We danced our way around the party circuit and a quick drink after work would often turn into an evening of misadventure. Nothing even vaguely naughty happened even though the chemistry was amazing.
She had a boyfriend, but split up with him and then through chance we both happened to be in the same part of the country visiting friends. She came over for drinks and food with the friends she was visiting. I made pasta, from scratch with my brother.
After supper we walked to the forest and sat in a huge hammock. I’d suspected this might have happened and so arranged for a light post-supper picnic of champagne and chocolate truffles to be stashed behind a tree in a hamper.
She was terribly impressed, we fed each other chocolates and after months of lusting after each other we kissed.
This started off as friendship, so when she invited me to a party at the last-minute because her brother had bailed on her I thought nothing of it. It was fancy dress and I had a Spiderman costume. She was dressed as the lady from the Birds, she was tiny and blonde so completely rocked it. Her costume was a 1960s frock with a range of fake birds pinned to it and fake bite marks.
The party was at a house in the middle of no-where, well in a tent outside a house in the middle of no-where. I didn’t know anyone else at the party but Spiderman made lots of friends.
It was raining outside, and for some reason we ended up having a duel with party poppers on a bridge. I won the duel (although I can’t remember how this was decided) and my reward was a kiss.
This post going to be broken down by day because a lot has happened. It might be worth getting a cup of tea before you start reading.
Thursday & Friday
Rode down to see the Fez in London after work. I was dressed as Tom Cruise in Top Gun, which made the Fez cackle with laughter.
I had a bottle of champagne with me and she made a pie (Steak and Guinness). I like cooking with her. It was a lovely evening and I left in the morning late and very reluctantly. I had to go to a work thing up North so couldn’t ‘work from home’ even if I wanted to. I wanted to work from home.
At the work thing. I had to judge something at 4.30 so I couldn’t leave before then.
The judging went well, but we got told off for spending too long judging. Honestly, you try to do your job well. The very moment it was over I ran off the stage and hopped onto the bike.
It would be an understatement to say I rode like the devil down to London. The devil would have backed off a bit and said ‘steady on old bean’. I probably set new world record for journey between the place up North and in London. It’s amazing the effect having a pretty girl waiting for you has on travel times.
I arrived in record time, slightly spaced out. I had a shower and a change of clothes which made me feel human again. The Fez and I drank champagne and played computer games with her flatmates. The Fez’s flatmate has Guitar Hero 5 and so people were leaping around the room while they played along with The White Stripes. It was very jolly.
This was the first time that I’d woken up with the Fez that didn’t involve me charging out of the door at stupidly early o’clock. We had a relaxed breakfast in bed (fruit salad, croissants, tea) and I told the Fez that I would like her to be my girlfriend. She said yes. An official announcement was made on Facebook shortly afterwards.
The Fez had to revise for some exams so I went off to visit a chum and walk the beagle. I hopped onto the bike and whizzed across London to see the dog. When I reappeared the Fez and I went to the shops to buy some lovely food and then eat it. We ate muscles in white wine sauce with crusty French bread and then had a little nap.
In the evening we went to meet a chum for his birthday celebrations. He was drunk when we arrived but in good spirits. We stayed for a few drinks and then hopped into the night bus before collapsing into bed. We had planned to cook a risotto together but we were both so exhausted we decided to save it for another time.
It was an excellent weekend, fact.
- Dressing like Tom Cruise can make girls laugh it’s a bit chilly to be just wearing a T-shirt and dog tags
- Large motorbikes do impress girls
- If you go on a walk long enough to tire out a beagle, it will exhaust you too
- Riding through London when everyone is off watching the marathon is very entertaining
- Girls are ace
Marriage percentage – 60%, but this shit just got real.
Tuesday was a very busy day. I managed to get my work stuff out-of-the-way pretty early on which definitely helped. I had to interview a famously prickly celebrity in Soho, I was worried he would be a nightmare but he turned out to be an utter darling.
The interview went well and I was able to skip off across Soho, gift bag in hand, to meet up with some friends for lunch
Lunch was a few gin and tonics. Followed by some carefully chosen tapas (avoiding anything with Garlic) and a dash of wine to help it down. I was feeling a little bit drunk at this point.
I needed to sober up but I also needed some champagne. I thought it would be a good house-warming gift for the Fez, so I ambled over to the best wine merchant in London for some help.
The moment I arrived a glass of vintage rosé champagne was pressed into my hand. We spent a while talking about the Fez, what we might be eating and what I wanted the champagne to say.
The wine chap helped me pick out something that sent the right messages and I hopped into the tube over to Chez Fez.
The Fez was looking radiant and showed me around her new, very nice house and introduced me to her house mates. They seemed good eggs.
Then we set about making the sofa bed. I read the instructions while the Fez opened the champagne (which was excellent) and then we started making it.
There were a few set backs, including a bit where the Fez insisted we use the wrong set of screws. Trying to do up the wrong screws nearly cost me my thumbs (no seriously, they went black for a bit) but we managed it in the end thanks to regular champagne breaks.
Any task is easier with regular champagne breaks. It took us only about two and a half hours to make the sofa bed, I think a sober team could have done it in 20 minutes, but we were pleasantly sozzled and cackling away by the end so it was time well spent. With the sofa out the way we set about making the pie.
Tasks were handed out and the entire house was engaged in frantic chopping so very rapidly the pie was safely tucked away into the oven leaving us to drink more wine.
I tried to kiss The Fez on the lips in celebration of the pie being finished but I got the cheek. This was not a great sign and I have to admit I thought I must have completely misread the situation up to this point. No one likes to go for the lips and get the cheek do they?
The pie however was excellent, we gobbled it down and then sat about drinking a bit more wine before retiring to the Fez’s room. It was getting to the time when I’d need to head over to my friend’s place to sleep (which is what I thought would happen) when the Fez said I should just stay. I asked her if she was sure and she insisted so I got ready for what I assumed would be an entirely platonic evening of slightly restless sleep.
Once in bed we talked for a bit and I decided to kiss her. This time she responded with vigor and things got decidedly fruity and then halted.
‘I’m not sure I want to sleep with you yet,’ said the Fez ‘it’s only our third date.’
I thought about this and decided to answer entirely honestly.
‘That’s fine. Of course I’d love to have sex with you right now, you are gorgeous, but I understand if you want to wait. I like you’
‘I like you too’
‘Good. Look, I know this isn’t a think yet, but I’d quite like it to be a thing and because of that I’m not in a hurry for anything to happen.’
She paused for a moment
‘It’s just that I find you a bit intimidating, almost scary.”
I laughed. I’d never been called that before.
‘Well you know what you want, you are so confident and you are really muscled.’
I laughed some more.
‘Thank you. That’s lovely of you to say but I’m really not that scary.’
We talked some more. There was a bit more kissing and then some more talking about things.
Then she looked at me carefully and said ‘I’m not scared of you anymore.’
Things got even more fruity.
Marriage percentage? Hard to say but devilishly high.
EDIT : Marriage percentage : 60%
I have been a naughty boy.
This is not because I have been absent for so long (an unavoidable attack of Real Life and a virused laptop), but because I have done a naughty thing.
This particular naughty thing was catalysed by a rather lovely bottle of Bollinger that I had been keeping in reserve for emergencies (read: in case I needed to impress a girl at short notice). I’m a firm believer in not saving things for the ‘special occasion’ which never arises so cracked open the Champagne to celebrate Dragonforce getting a new, andrather well paid, job (she was always complaining that I was saving it for some cheap girl and not her anyway).
After polishing off the bottle we retired to our respective rooms. This is when mistake No. 1 occured. I logged on to MSN. Cupcake was online. This is not a problem in itself because it had been a couple of years since we had spoken online so she did not remember that it was me.
However, buoyed along by the champagne, I broke cover. Mistake number 2.
We chatted for about 3 hours. There were web-cams. There was naughtiness. It was all rather fun! She had a new haircut (and reminded me rather of Alison Mosshart) and had been exercising so was in much better shape. Somehow the norks had remained at an ever impressive 34FF. 34FF!!! How I had missed them and her naughty eyes.
By 4am, heady on the euphoria of sexual excitement, I jumped into my car to meet her. We drove out to dark country lanes and hijinks ensued.
At 6am I crept back into he house, hoping that Dragonforce had not noticed I was missing. This was a Thursday night. 3 hours sleep is not enough to operate on but at least I was working from home so could sit around in my pants, answering emails and dropping toast crumbs on myself.
So, was it worth it?
Well, frankly yes. I am hindered in my dating escapades by comparing everyone to her. I find myself looking for the characteristics that attracted me to her, and comparing every kiss to those I had with her. However, amongst this I know full well that we could never have a relationship again. There has been too much hurt and I would never trust her again.
I am, at least, no further back than I was before, and the hijinks was superb. I felt like a naughty teenager! This is probably not a wise thing to repeat though.
Oh, and I found out from Dragonforce the following day that the very same night she had been texting her ex and had agreed to meet with the unspoken subtext of hijinks.