Hello my dear minx lovers, and how the devil are you all?
Apologies for the silent running over the last few weeks but I have have been head down job searching, which I am pleased to say, has paid off.
Right, so let me catch you up. I’ve been quite focused on career / personal goals over the last few months, and at times like that, especially at massive crossroads in your life, it can be damn near impossible to find the time, let alone the energy, to date. I haven’t had any dates, in any sense of the word, since New Year’s Day, and nearly missed V Day completely.
However, had some cracking news this week, so thought I’d call up a friend to celebrate. We had been on a few dates, and whilst there had been good banter and some sparks, it had turned out to be a damp squib. Months went by between meetings, and we never really got it together, no kissing, nothing, so I drew a mental line and thought he’s a cool guy so I’ll keep in touch.
Anyway, I wanted to celebrate, and he’s just landed a new job, so I suggested that we get a Chinese and chill out at his with his flatmates. Nothing romantic, no sexy ideas at all. Looking back, I can appreciate the ambiguity of this idea, but he’d done nothing to make a move and I thought we had put each other firmly in the Friendzone.
So grabbing a leftover bottle of Tesco’s cheapest Buck’s Fizz (because I am skint) I wandered over and turned up an hour after work.
He let me in, then slumped back to where he had been sitting – in his kitchen/lounge, staring at a wide screen TV on the wall. He had a bottle of red in front of him, which he had put a huge dent in and was already nearly gone and he was between merry and pissed. His house mate was cooking dinner and introduced himself, then got me a glass for my Buck’s Fizz. My date stayed firmly focused on watching Top Gear, having a distracted conversation with me over his shoulder as he watched Clarkson and Co.
We ordered the Chinese and he finished the red wine, and burped – not just burped, but properly BELCHED. I swear the glasses rattled. He said nothing. I blinked. His housemate paused. He then laughed and staggered upstairs to have a shower.
So yeah, not remotely romantic right? Basically acting blokey around his female mate, relaxed in his own home, fair play? I filled up my glass and chatted to his housemate before he came back down. The food arrived, and we sorted ourselves out, then carried on watching Top Gear. He leans against me and we just chill. He snuggled back against me, telling me he has a massage chair upstairs.
“That’s nice. Why are you telling me? Do you want to sell it for you or are you just bragging?”
Looking wounded, he seemed genuinely surprised that I don’t fancy giving him a massage.
All of a sudden, after the food, he seemed to wake up. He holds my hand, and I think “awww”, which quickly changes to “cunt” when he guides it ever so lovingly towards his groin and uses it to touch his penis through his jeans. I snatch my hand away and glare down at his head, reminding him we’re not a couple, we haven’t even kissed and wondering what he’s going to do next.
He thinks about this for a second, before turning around and kissing me, as if to solve this problem. Then in a gesture I believe he thought to be romantic, spun around and began to inch up my body, as if hoisting himself up and climbing my tits. Ever seen a baby seal running away? Like that but diagonal, across a person. Now some of you might be thinking this was all terrible and I should be more angry. In truth it was like hanging out with badly trained but very affectionate pissed Labrador. Annoying, but harmless and sweet.
At this point, as I was glaring at him and about to tell him to knock it the fuck off, my stomach area was suddenly hit by a sharp pain, and waves of heat burst across my face, neck and roll down my body. I momentarily froze and he noticed the pain flashing across my face.
The Labrador paused and asked if I was OK. It seemed that I had been saved from an awkward puppy training moment by temporary food poisoning. The pain racked up in intensity in little under a minute. As rubbish as he’d been, I was genuinely afraid I was about the puke in the guy’s face, or worse, lose my arse and shit myself on his sofa. I could barely talk, but managed to squeak that I was fine and needed a wee. I staggered upstairs, trying desperately to figure out which end of me was likely to explode first.
Slamming the bathroom door shut, I began to pray. The pain had reached it’s pinnacle. Beads of icy sweat were forming on my top lip, and my teeth were clenched together to stifle the moans. Waves of dizziness were making spots dance in front of my face as my stomach churned barbed wire. I sat there for a full five minutes, waiting, waiting….I made Rumpelstiltskin style deals whilst sitting there that would make the devil blush.
NOTHING! No puking. No nuclear rainbow shits. I had been expecting Jackson Pollock style activity all over his nice clean bathroom. Literally nothing happened. The pain receded and I wimpered, pulled up my jeans, and hugged the toilet to soak in the cold of the porcelain. Dizziness still shuddered through me, but it was fading.
It was a MIRACLE. I had been saved by the Ghost of Botulism Past.
Heading downstairs, I made my excuses and promising to message as soon as I got home, vacated the house. The fresh air hit me, clearing my swimming head, and easing the dizziness. It was at this point I realised that just before the Chinese arrived and during his shower, I had had a glass in my hand whilst chatting to the Labrador’s housemate. We had a lot in common, and during this chat I relaxed for the first time all night….and pretty much necked the entire bottle of Buck’s Fizz. Whilst only 3%, it was the fizzy, cheap, nasty type….that could even have been maybe a tiny bit out of date. Either way, it was nasty enough and cheap enough that when it hit the rice in my stomach, things rapidly expanded, causing my sudden bouts of pain and near-arse experience.
Lesson learned……Buck’s Fizz does NOT mix well with too much Chinese and I’m not a big fan of men who haven’t been housebroken.