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Dropping a Clanger

February 7, 2011 7 comments

Biscuit

Saturday I had a first meet with an internet date. I had actually contacted her just after new year but we hadn’t been able to find a convenient time to meet until now so we had occasionally swapped witticisms via the dating website, text and then Facebook.

Moving to Facebook contact early is a double edged sword. It may be generally better that a potential date does not see my stream of consciousness about accidentally squashing kiwi fruit in my work bag, or see the picture of me in just speedos with bad wetsuit sunburn. Sometimes I think it’s better to fool a girl into not thinking that you are a massive spaz until she is hopelessly infatuated with and betrothed to you. However I reasoned that since I am unlikely to keep it hidden for long enough to get that far then it’s probably better to get it all out in the open from the outset.

The dates I’ve had of late have been mostly with people who I have met first in actual real life so first impressions had already been formed (apart from Little Miss Naughty, but we had already formed certain impressions of each other based on ‘other’ characteristics). This time I felt I had an opportunity to make a decent first impression so drew lessons from some of my earliest failings and resolved to arrive well dressed and on time.

I put on my smartest black shiny shoes, a short sleeved shirt and, my nicest jeans. Unfortunately, because I was posting my last update, I put them on about an hour after I SHOULD have done to arrive in good time for the date.

This necessitated an unnecessarily stressful emergency taxi ride from West London to Soho. 25 minutes and £25 later I arrived, miraculously only 5 minutes late.

Oh well, one lesson out of two is better than none.

I’d opted to meet mid afternoon, which allowed plenty of time for adventures but also meant we could cut our losses and not wipe out an entire evening if the date was terrible.

I had arranged to meet in a tiny shop which boasted the most decadent cakes I have ever seen assembled in one location. I walked in to see my date smiling back at me. We had joked about her wearing a wedding dress on the date. Instead she was wearing a tight vest top with a rather risqué  neckline, tight slinky jeans, cream heels and a rather cheeky grin.

I don’t normally notice shoes… maybe I am catching the gays from Toast?

Armed with red velvet cake and coffee, which I bought in penance for being late, we pulled up a couple of stools to the breakfast bar and started chatting. This is the first time I can remember meeting for a first date and not immediately furnishing ourselves with alcohol. There’s something very reassuring about a refreshing gin or full-bodied ale and maybe I haven’t realised quite how much I have come to rely on it to calm the nerves on a date.

I’ll admit it, I was nervous. I’v been on so many dates over the last year that I’m almost NEVER nervous anymore, and certainly not an hour into the date. She seemed a little nervous too and we were both a little hyper, although in retrospect perhaps that was the massive sugar rush from the ENORMOUS slice of cake.

She works in IT (which is the LAST thing I would have guessed) but was quite dismissive of it, however I’ll still call the the IT Girl because it sounds quite pleasing. We actually barely talked about grown up things at all and quickly settled into a slightly silly and irreverent banter.

Leaving the cake shop for Chinatown we stopped to enjoy some of the partying and watch the Lion dances for Chinese New Year. the IT Girl is a little, well, ‘little’ so I found her a good step so she could see what was happening. Managing to avoid buying a ridiculously tacky ‘Alladdin’s’ style lamp we finally got to a pub and started putting booze in our faces.

The conversation got even sillier very quickly and Vegas weddings, sex with horses and doing bad things to children were all mentioned. I fancied her before we started drinking and only fancied her more as we carried on. I sent Toast a text saying “Marriage percentage 60%”. I mention this because he then posted it all over Twitter and I was mocked for my recent run of enthusiastically high M% that go into exponential decay with each date.

Despite living in London, I don’t really know my way around the streets and drinking holes yet. Thankfully the IT girl did. We moved from cozy pub to painfully classy cocktail bar (where I was glad I had put my nice shoes on) to a cheap and cheerful dive of a pub.

Mid chat about her family I dropped a clanger that made me go bright red. I meant to say something throwaway about ‘if I met her parents’ but what actually came out was “when I meet your parents”.  With sudden horror I realised my mistake and I was suddenly rather flustered and backtracking rapidly. Thankfully she didn’t make a girl-shaped hole in the wall and laughed it off instead. *phew!*

I rather wanted to kiss her from about halfway through the date but wasn’t confident it would be reciprocated. I got my chance on the walk to Trafalgar Square. She stepped into a sheltered spot out of the wind and backed up against the wall to spark a sneaky fag. Something about the conversation made a perfect excuse to step in close. I don’t remember what that thing was because we we then rather distracted by the kissing. It wasn’t quite as cheeky a moment as obeying the little purple love imp when he tells you to kiss but it was pretty perfect apart from that.

…or it would have been if we hadn’t stepped apart and noticed the puddle of piss that had been next to us the whole time.

We were sat in Trafalgar square about 10pm waiting for the firework show that had clearly already been and gone when she got a text from the friend she was due to be staying with. She lives outside the opposite edge of London so it would have been a nightmare to get home. Her friend said that he was going to bed. IT Girl weighed up the options between going there or attempting to trek all the way back home.

I had told Toast that there was NO WAY I would be bringing anyone home as my room was in an utterly shameful state. This is a bit like the boy equivalent of not shaving your legs. Feeling slightly prompted I tentatively offered that she could stay at mine if she preferred. Pants on though, as I’m not that kind of boy. I did offer the spare room but she gave me the raised eyebrow implying ‘yeah, like THAT’s going to happen’.

I had forgotten to let Toast know that I was bringing a guest back until a few minutes before I arrived so really hoped that I didn’t find him and the consultant ‘holding hands’ in the living room. The plan of ‘no hijinks’ plan didn’t quite work out, even with the messy room.

Despite everyone’s jibes I am going to stick to my original M%. Yes, it is enthusiastic but there’s no harm in a high M%, as long as I take it slowly and calmly.

…and for those of you now scoffing at me, it’s not very becoming. :p

Lessons learned:

  • Good shoes are a must for first dates.
  • Being late because you are writing up last night’s adventures is costly and stressful. Don’t do it.
  • Don’t send Toast marriage percentages, he will use it against you.
  • Dropping clangers that makes it look like you had already planned the honeymoon is embarrassing and should be avoided at all costs.
  • French Martinis are not as delicious as raspberry Martinis.
  • The tidiness of my room seems to be inversely proportional to the likelihood of me bringing home a guest.
  • Look for puddles of wee before you kiss.

Sexy times with the A-Team

January 8, 2011 2 comments

I had a second date with Little Miss Naughty. Because I was STILL ill and had lost my voice the first time, and because we were both in need of a quiet night in, she offered to shout me Thai takeaway and a film  at hers. This was also a good opportunity to take advantage of the fact that her recently ex boyfriend who still lives with her was due to be away for the weekend.

In typical Biscuit form, I got distracted by playing Borderlands with Toast and turned up an hour later that I meant to, but armed with ice cream, quality wine and posh crisps.

Little Miss Naughty promptly administered me a pharmaceutical dose of lemon and manuka honey. The food arrived and we settled down to scoff and watch a cozy romantic film.

Sometime around the point that Hannibal carjacked B.A. in the iconic A-Team van to go and rescue Face we got distracted from the film by engaging in filth. After a couple of hours we thought we should have another crack at the film and made it to about 20 minutes before the end before we got distracted again and gave up and carried on the filth from earlier.

She really is very naughty in a way that I would want in a girl I would want to marry  but I realised that I don’t fancy her as much as I thought I would. Yes, this is another lesson about getting too excited in advance.

Rather appropriately I stumbled across a programme last night following women and their internet dating experiences, including one who was blogging about it, called ‘Love Virtually‘ (apologies to those of you outside the UK as I don’t think the link will work for you).

The blogger was saying that if there is one thing she has learned, it is to not get overexcited before you’ve met and had a couple of dates with someone, however she can’t still help herself! It was fascinating watching the rollercoaster of anticipation and disappointment and heartened me that at least I am not alone in this. Pretty much all the ladies said they did it. They were also VERY stalky, which is useful to know as I might start using a different email address that is not linked to my facebook account.

I am seeing Little Miss Naughty again tonight, sort of because she pretty much told me I was but also because the hijinks are so good! I think we need to have a chat sometime before she comes back here so we’re at least expecting the same thing from this.

Besides, I can’t get up to naughtyness with anyone else until the bruises subside. I don’t want a repeat of the Indy situation which shamed me so!

Marriage percentage 20%, even though she is a lot of what I am looking for, it’s not quite right. I’m Toast will just take this as further evidence of my magpie behaviour.

Why you should never date a porn star

December 4, 2010 6 comments

Toast

A very long time ago I had an almost thing with a porn star. Well it was a thing but it never really became a thing.

We met at a party when she was seeing someone else. She dumped him and went after me. We had a couple of ridiculous dates, no seriously ridiculous (they are worth a separate post) and then we drifted apart because she was seemingly unable to actually meet up to do anything, ever. She was a bit of a stoner, and would appear at my door at 3am and make demands in a rude way.

It sounds quite exciting, but it got a bit dull quite quickly.

I once bought her a very nice present for Valentine’s Day from Tiffany’s, and booked a restaurant and she just didn’t show up, which became one of my top ten all-time-tragic-moments (maybe there is a post in that?).

You’ve not known tragedy until you’ve spent a week inveigling a very special table at a very special restaurant. Turned up early, dressed to the nines with one of those pretty little turquoise boxes and then sat for two hours waiting for them to appear for them never to show.

This girl and I were never really friends but we sort of stayed in touch in a weird sort of way, mostly thanks to Facebook. If she heard I was having some sort of bash or event she would demand to be allowed to come and then never show up.

She got pregnant about a year ago, and so was posting about that every twenty seconds. I hid her from my news feed because I didn’t really care, but thought she would flip out if I actually deleted her.

Anyway, a year has passed and then out of the blue I got the following message:

‘Slightly shocked by you toast, I always considered you a close and dear friend especially since we have so many funny stories. However, it seems that since I hav had a lil one i’m too boring to talk to or invite out. You’ve never replied my texts, you never wished me happy birthday nor did you congratulate me wen my baby was born.  Boring as babies are to you we were told I could hav lost her but hey thats just YAWN…Boring. Friends are friends even when their paths go in different directions. Thats how I see it so if because i’m Mum now or cause i’m not out hanging wit the z listers i’m of no interest to you then delete me from your friends. I tend to only have friends who are   friends, not to notch up the amount I have on fb!  And yes I have just had my first period in over a year but still it was on my mind!’

Maybe I should just remove her from Facebook

Cocktails and cockney gansters.

November 10, 2010 1 comment

Biscuit

Following all my fretting over the potential disaster of both Noir and Elizabeth turning up to the house-warming, I had a date with Noir immediately after my completing my last post. In fact I was a lttle late because of it and had to push back the meeting slightly.

We met near to where she lives in trendy North London. With her distinctive sharply cut black fringe (and having seen photos on Facebook since we initially ‘bonded’ over Prince) I knew I would have no trouble recognising her. Thankfully I arrived first. There is no worse start to a date than rushing there all flustered and sweaty, so I am always happy to be waiting around.

I had ambivalent feelings about this date. I had very high hopes but was also torn over the whole simultaneous situation with Elizabeth. If anything I was erring slightly towards Elizabeth but really it was SUCH early days with both that it was impossible to separate them without at least a date each.

As it happened I didn’t actually immediately recognise her. Past experience of beaming gleefully at strangers as they approach, only to have them stride on past doing their best to avoid my maniacal smile, has taught me to be a little cautious when greeting new people. Also I am becoming slightly myopic as a result of wearing glasses for screen use and it’s playing havoc with my long distance facial recognition skills.

A couple of seconds after Noir sashayed into view I did overcome my creeping visual impairment and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. She whisked me off to a rather dimly red lit bar that served quite delicious, if cripplingly expensive, mojitos. There was a moment where she made it clear that she was free on Saturday night (the night of the housewarming). I conspicuously avoided the topic and felt rather self conscious doing so, but I think it went ok.

Noir kept asking me to check the time. At 9.30 she asked “are you hungry?”.

I am always hungry.

Finishing the last of drinks (which must have been made from unicorn tears they were so pricey), she lead me around the corner to a magnificent pizza/Italian restaurant. It had obviously been converted from something much more industrial and had bare wooden floors, big open spaces populated by a number of long communal tables and a lot of exposed brickwork.

Having not lived in London for very long I don’t really know many good venues for wining and dining so I usually end up groping around for somewhere suitable and just hoping that it isn’t ‘swingers’ night’ (or VERY loud metal night as happened on one date).

With mojitos in our bellies and food on the table the conversation really loosened up.  She told me an engrossing story of naively slipping into the trusted circle of some London gangsters when she was much younger, like something from Get Carter, only to be whisked out by her dad once he realised what was happening!

I wasn’t sure whether I still fancied her when we met outside the station. So much chemistry can be down to the jollity and atmosphere of a night out (and the social ‘lubrication’ of a nice G&T) that no matter how well you get on, it’s really hard to tell how much was a product of the moment. Sat there listening to her stories and embarrassing her with memories of things she’d said to me the other night, I found I did rather fancy her.

She walked me back to the station where we said our goodbyes. There was a couple of minutes of kissing then I negotiated my way home (via the unfamiliar night-bus network as I had missed the last train).

Had I known I was going to miss my train I would have left a little earlier but I did not really mind too much as the date had been worth it.

Marriage Percentage: 30%. I have learned to be cautious until I have had the chance to meet for a few dates but this was promising. Although I still felt rather duplicitous as I had a date with Elizabeth lined up within the next week too.

Maybe this kind of behaviour wouldn’t raise an eyebrow across the pond but I am British, and therefore perpetually guilty that I am not courting my (imaginary) childhood sweetheart with a summer picnic serving cucumber sandwiches on a gingham blanket in a buttercup meadow.

Although knowing me I would probably pitch it on sheep’s poo.

Taking Stock

August 11, 2010 1 comment

Biscuit

No, I’m not referring to the removal of cattle. Instead this seemed like an ideal moment to take a breahter and intertwine all the current loose threads into a big, fat bloggy rope.

…crappy metaphor? Anyway…

There are a number of girls currently in the picture whether they are aware of it or not.

  • Stripy Dress – After all the recent adventures and camping debacle, she is still the one who I would currently like things to work out with the most. She’s not the easiest to get close to but I’m still allowing a degree of latitude. Maybe it’s a chemistry thing, I don’t know, but she still sparks something inside me that most others have failed to.
  • Irish Girl – Irish Girl definitely needs a better moniker but she is one of the pair who I met on the streets at the tail end of the last big London trip. Because Stripy dress has been blowing a little hot and cold I have decided not to concentrate all my energies on her, so have booked a drink with Irish Girl next week.
  • Cola Lollies – She’s not out of the picture yet, even though she’s leaving to work in China for 6 months. On Saturday she’ll be at a mutual friend’s wedding. The venue allows people to camp overnight so there will be drinking and partying to the we small hours. I have offered Cola Lollies one of my spare tents as she has nowhere to kip. However, I still can’t shake the feeling that I should fancy her more than I do, being gorgeous and generally awesome, so keep holding out hope for more of a spark. The other interesting part about this wedding is it is the first time that I will socially be in the same place as the ex, Cupcake, since we broke up June ’09. Cupcake will be there with her new love so this could be a very interesting dynamic. It is fancy dress and I will be sporting a variety of large and threatening objects. Y’know, just for effect.
  • Local girl from recent date – I know, I know… I wasn’t going to see her again. The thing is she’s nice and so I have amicably been returning the odd text. I don’t really want to give her a ‘no’, I’m just kind of hoping that my imminent move may make logistics impractical and so let it go it’s own way naturally.
  • Leia – This is the future colleague who Dragonforce will be working in Qatar with. Although barely worth a mention due to the whole ‘moving to the Middle East’ thing, DF is convinced that she is perfect for me so we have struck up Facebook chats. If ANYTHING is going to happen with this one then it is going to be a very slow burner, but worth mentioning now for context.
  • Scarlet – Although she is currently living in Oz, there is a high likelihood that I will see her at Christmas. She’s not really sure what her plans are but certainly nothing is happening soon.
  • Wildcard – This is a girl who a mutual friend enthused that I would get on with very well and who was supposed to be attending the London rock club on the same night I was some months back. Unfortunately some sort of trouble with her horse meant she couldn’t make it (maybe it threw a shoe or broke down on the way). Today we have ended up making contact on Facebook due to an enthusiastic bands/music conversation on a friend’s page. Unfortunately she is now ‘in a relationship’. BAH! However, relationships break down and I seem to get on with her so will stay in contact and see if anything develops.

So… what next?

Tomorrow night I have a date with Stripy dress. We have planned food and I am going to do my best to keep us off the booze to see how she is with me when sober. After all the recent uncertainty I hope to get a little clarity tomorrow so need a level head. Hopefully I should know by the end of the night whether there’s any real potential.

Knowing me, I’ll probably just become mesmerised by her eyes, drink too much, do some ambiguous kissing and come away even more confused than I started.

HURRAH!

Date Report: Stripy Dress

July 22, 2010 4 comments

Biscuit

So as you’ve probably gathered, last night I went on a date with Stripy Dress.

I must say, I’m surprised. Surprised at a number of things last night. I’m surprised by how well we got on. Surprised by how close she is to what I want in a girlfriend/partner/spouse. Surprised by how much I just sunk into her gorgeous soft brown eyes. And surprised by quite how far I have let myself fall for her so fast.

It would be fair to say I’m smitten. It would also be fair to say that I’m now full of the frets!

At this point it’s probably useful to give you a little history. When I fall for girls I have had a tendency to fall very hard and very fast. This happened particularly with Cupcake and Aussie, my last two girlfriends. Both of them I was very serious about. One I moved to Australia to be with (good move) another I moved with (in the very latter stages) into her parents’ place (bad move. It’s a long story but basically, don’t do it kids!).

So it is with some trepidation that I approach this situation. I’ve discussed how there have been girls that I really should have fallen for but haven’t. If it doesn’t feel right then no amount of ‘box ticking’ will ever compensate for that. The fact that I have fallen for Stripy Dress like this means that there is something special that I am REALLY keen NOT to fuck up!

Unfortunately, like some quantum event, observing the process changes the outcome. I am now REALLY aware of how I play things and that is probably changing my behaviour negatively. Prior to this we were happily swapping Facebook message back and forth several times per day. It was all the ‘getting to know you’ stuff and it was fun! However if the last year has taught me nothing else it’s that being too keen is not attractive to girls.

So, the date. After being a spaz and sending Stripy Dress the update that I MEANT to sent to Toast, things kicked off brilliantly. We hit it off pretty quickly and wandered around chatting chatting with ease until we reached the target watering hole. One bottle of Rosé was quaffed and promptly replaced with another. We swapped tales, quizzed each other, giggled, took the mickey and I tried my best to play it cool. Playing it cool was becoming increasingly difficult as if I looked into her eyes for too long I started to lose my train of thought as my stomach fizzed and tingled.

After a couple of bottles we struck out on a mission to reach the river. Stripy Dress suggested this and it seemed an excellent idea as walking along riversides (even rivers that are as unappealing to come into contact with as the Thames) is exactly the sort of thing you should be doing with a slightly squiffy girl that you really want to kiss.

The reality of reaching the river was much more difficult than it first appeared, involving 2 busses, and so she proposed we strike off for her place. this seemed like an even better idea so, picking up another bottle en route, we jumped on the tube.

Around this point was pretty much when the remainder of my cool evaporated. Sat next to each other, faces close and pleasantly toasty from a bottle of wine each, I lost the ability to finish sentences. I had to fess up about the effect that her eyes were having on me.

At her place we sat in the garden, picking up conversation where we had left off earlier. Getting closer and more tactile with each sip, I found her head almost nestled into my shoulder. The kissing was just luscious, passionate and delicious. It was without thought and totally absorbing. …except for the bit where I nearly pitched over as I lost my balance.

Eventually I was pointed back in the direction of the train station and, saying goodbyes and promising to call, I made my way, gleefully bouncing along, back home. After Cupcake I promised myself that I wouldn’t fall like that again. But I just have. This time, however, I am determined to play it cool.

As it happens,she is going to the same festival that Dragonforce and I are going to in a week. Currently Stripy Dress is having trouble getting a lift up there with her friend so I have tentatively offered them space in the back of the car if they’re stuck. Obviously this would be a full on second date as it might well mean them camping with us too… but that’s to deal with later. For now I just have to concentrate on NOT cocking it up!

Marriage percentage: 55%.  Shockingly, but excitingly, high!!!

Face-spaz and the Great Girl Conundrum

July 21, 2010 3 comments

Biscuit

My. Good. Lord. That was a MESSY Friday evening. Without going into too much detail, DF and I worked out that we consumed over a bottle of vodka between us, about 8 cans of Red Bull, 4 cans of beer, 2 entire jugs of Pimm’s and a Jagerbomb. This list is necessary to partly explain the carnage that ensued.

I have tried to write this post several times but have barely made sense in my own mind, let alone to a reader, so I decided to start from scratch and get all pictorial on you.

Before I start with the chronology as best I can deduce it, I will get straight to the nub of the issue:

Facebook is bloody GREAT for talking to girls you meet on a night out!

Over the last few months I have commented in passing about meeting girls whilst out and very drunk but having no success eliciting replies to messages when I attempt to follow up. I’m not sure where it came from but recently I have stuck upon the idea of asking girls if they are on Facebook rather (or in addition to) asking for a number. This has a number of potential advantages:

  1. Although I would deem it more ‘intrusive’ than a telephone number, so far girls seem to be happier to pass on Facebook contact details than a telephone number. Perhaps because a number has the definite overtones of being ‘interested’ whereas FB can be just to keep in contact.
  2. You can learn a little more about a person to facilitate conversation early on.
  3. This is the biggie: Face book has a PICTURE OF THE PERSON YOU’RE TALKING TO! One of the problems I’ve had of late is that I meet a girl that I KNOW I fancy and maybe get a number, but by the morning any reliable picture of what they look like has become blurred in my mind due to alcohol induced memory loss.

There are a few significant disadvantages though

  1. You run the risk of ‘crossing the streams’ and exposing girls you are hoping to date to each other.
  2. FB potentially contains all sorts of embarrassing photos and info about you that you might wish to hide whilst you are trying to present a good impression of yourself.
  3. Taking names alone is not a reliable way of tracking someone down and is open to large margins of failure in which you may not be able to find a girl.

Ok, so here is my best atempt to put this all in chronological order as best as I can remember. I should first briefly explain the people involved:

  • Balloon Girl – I met her in the pub before the club. She was a cute curvy girl with a sweet smile and wonderfully buxom. I taught her friends to make balloon dogs whilst DF was chatted up by a very fit man. I discovered Balloon Girl was 19 (yes, ANOTHER 19 year old, I know…) but she was funny and I wanted to see her again so I made her an ejaculating penis balloon hat and took contact details.
  • Stripey Dress – I met her whilst sat on some steps for some brief respite from dancing/bouncing off the walls. She is VERY pretty with gorgeous long dark hair cut into a fringe, caramel skin and almond ‘come to bed’ eyes. I was quite struck and did not overly fancy my chances. I took contact details at some point before I left.
  • Bar Girl – I think that Bar Girl talked to me at the club bar because of my aforementioned lucky T-Shirt (she was not the Barmaid, she was on the customer side of the bar). I think I may have shown her my balloon trick that is only suitable for adults and makes people gag a little. I took some sort of contact details but by this point I was absolutely hammered.
  • Irish Girls – I met them on the streets back to the hostel whilst munching on Falafel. One of the Irish Girls spent some time abusing me for the crimes of my English forefathers. She had naughty eyes. I quite fancied them both. When I woke up in the morning I did not remember taking ANY contact details for them and was kicking myself.
  • Mystery Telephone Number – This was a number which I got VERY confused about who it belonged to as it was just a dialled number on my phone.

Part of the problem here is that I simply did not expect to meet and take contact details from more than 1 girl at most. Had I then I would have put some sort of descriptive text, or saved their telephone numbers against a name. However I didn’t, and it wasn’t long at ALL before all those details got confused into a Gordian Knot of memories. Before I had even gone to bed on Friday (well, 5 am Saturday morning) I had lost track.

When I woke on Saturday (and after DF was thrown out of the hostel for taking the very hot man back) I was faced with the kind of puzzle that had me wishing for a glass- eyed limping detective in a mac. It also did not help that I still felt drunk for the entirety of Saturday.

This, as best I can work out, is the problem solving process I went through to arrive at the results (click for bigger pic).

Rather than try to explain all this,here are the highlights:

  • The mystery telephone number could have belonged to 2 different girls, or someone as yet unremembered.
  • I had another telephone number that could have belonged to three girls.
  • I lost track of whose name was who after a number of my other memories turned out to be jumbled
  • I had to text the numbers I had to try and work them out.
  • Mystery telephone number turned out to belong to a BOYFRIEND of a girl, this was quite disconcerting until it I remembered that I had given my phone to a crying girl to use to contact her boyfriend. Phew!
  • One name, who I thought belonged to balloon girl but actually belonged to Bar Girl, was too common to identify someone in Facebook. That and I had NO idea what she looked like.
  • I totally forgot that I had taken Irish girl’s names to track them down of FB until late on Saturday when I discovered them in my phone.
  • Stripy Dress has the same name as a girl already in my phonebook, which thoroughly confused me for a while.

Eventually I managed to associate almost everyone to their correct number and make contact via phone or Facebook. I still have no idea who Bar Girl is and no way of tracking her down but that is fine as the remaining contacts have proved to be very promising.

  • Balloon Girl – Is in a ‘complicated’ relationship situation at the moment. And lives a bit faraway. AND is 19… that really is something I need to get away from
  • Stripey Dress – Much to my surprise has been very chatty on Facebook. In the course of 4 days I have gone from meeting her whilst we were both hammered to a promise of a date… tomorrow night! =D
  • Irish Girl – One of the Irish girls (the one with naughty eyes who gave me prolonged grief about the crimes of my forefathers) has been quite amiable and has also agreed to a drink.

So, all in all, quite a BLINDING success! Actually, there’s very little time to fit them all in as I’m busy this weekend, at a festival the next, away camping the one after etc. etc.

Oh, and I also have a date on Monday with a girl who contacted me through a dating site. And have agreed a drink at some point with the girl who I met on the tube a few weeks ago.

Cripes!