Gascoigne has said to me in the past that you can have all the rules you want, all the visions of what meeting someone will be like, then you actually meet someone who knocks it out of the water. She also said that this person would come along when you least expect it. Gascoigne you’re a fucking oracle.
As I was going through a dry spell, not only of dating, but of being social in general I decided that a night out with Dick and Dom was on the cards. The weekend before last was set to be a busy one given that Gascoigne and I were out on Friday, then I was packing up my troubles to stay at Dick and Dom’s for the weekend.
The Friday night was a good laugh, Amber Bar in Moorgate, London, was temporary residence to some very good looking men, Gascoigne was on the lookout for me but my heart wasn’t really in it. There were also some very annoying men in there, which if you read my twitter feed you will see reference too.
Touchy Feely
I am constantly accused of looking moody or not enjoying myself. I have to explain to people that it is just my face. I don’t walk around grinning like a moron but it doesn’t mean I am not having a nice time. So when some guy comes up to me in the bar, squashes my cheeks between his sweaty beer soaked fingers and tells me to “just fucking smile” or words to that effect it does not go down well. I tell Gascoigne I am going for a cigarette and shoot her a look that tells her I will break this guy’s fingers if he touches me again.
It’s not that I have a phobia of being touched, but I hate being touched by strangers. A girl in a bar or club is not inviting you to touch her purely because she is out enjoying herself. There seems to be a vein of thought that says if a girl has dressed up and gone to a dark room with music and drinking she is fair game. The amount of arse pinches and worse I endured before I dared to actually challenge the idea were countless.
So rant over, Gascoigne and I made a quick escape from perverts corner and made our way home.
The following evening I did what I always do when residing at the boy’s house, I packed a suitcase for one night with enough clothes for two weeks and an amount of makeup that Katie Price would balk at.
We got tipsy while we got ready and headed down to the glittering lights of Basildon Leisure Park, class in a glass my friends.
10pm As I walked in the bar I saw a guy with what I can only describe as a cheeky face, not Brad Pitt but in my eyes cute. I gave him a little smile and headed to the bar.
Later on I saw the same guy and we both smiled, his feet stayed firmly where they were and he didn’t make a move to come over.
2am, Shitfaced O’clock
I am standing at the bar buying redbull for the boys who are now falling all over the place on the dance floor, and vodka for myself because I am relatively sensible at this point. Cheeky face man stands next to me at the bar and says Hi. We get chatting and he asks if I am with “those two” (Those two because by now they are gyrating to some end of the night dirty dancing medley like two drunk cocker spaniels) I explain shamefully, they are my best friends and they are a couple.
The floodgate opens, he had thought I was with Dom because Dom has a habit of hanging off me when drunk so that no man in the place thinks I am single, he is, in short, the crappiest wing man ever!
Cheeky face is driving home as well so he is sober, sober and respectful. He doesn’t pinch my arse or ask me the same question twice, a good first impression.
I give cheeky face my number and as I turn to go back to the boys I realise they have disappeared. To cut a long story short I go to the front of the club (having quickly downed the vodka) and find Dick slumped against a post with a pile of sick at his feet. It’s beautiful.
After insisting he can be sick no more we jump in a taxi, only for Dick to decorate it on the way home. It’s a good job I love this boy because after leaving the taxi driver a tip large enough to get his cab through the car wash I put him to bed and he crashes out leaving Dom with me in the spare room.
Waking up without a hangover is lovely when you have has a good night. Waking up to a full clothed, dribbling Dom who has by now spooned me is not such a great start to the day J
So when I get a text from cheeky face to say it was lovely to meet me I have to reflect on the things I have previously said about meeting people in clubs. It is possible to meet someone in a club and get along after all. It might happen once in a blue moon but at least it does happen.
So that is the story thus far to be continued and in the meantime its goodnight from me, goodnight from Dom and goodnight from Dick…..
