Good Sex vs Excruciating Boredom 09/29/2009
I could think of worse dilemas to be in, but after my second date with the pretty young girl I managed to charm last week, I find myself torn..... On saturday night, she drove over to my place and we headed out to my local haunts for an evening of food and drink.....the latter being a necessity as I knew I had a few hours of inane chat, spoken in a monotone voice coming my way. She is genuinely a lovely girl, but there is only so much pension investment talk one man can listen to without sneakily knocking shots back whilst at the bar to numb the pain. I constantly switch off as she rambles on about what the current economic climate is doing for her industry - my thoughts turn to the more pressing matter of whether Chelsea can keep their unbeaten start to the season going.... Unfortunately for me and all other men, we think with our dicks and nothing else. If you are a good looking girl, you can pretty much get what you want, as there'll always be a dumb bloke that'll get it for you. The reason he'll do the task in hand, is because he thinks he's one step closer to having sex with you, its as simple as that. So girls, anytime that guy at work is helping you out with your presentation or consoling you after you split from your boyfriend, he's not being a "nice guy", he's trying hit that pussy. Unless he bats for the other team of course... So the above explains why I persevere through the evening. I lose 5 or 6 hours of my life to utter boredom, but at the end of it, I have great sex with a pretty girl. Its very hard to turn that down, especially after the barren spell I've just been through. Anyway, by the end of the evening, I was totally blotto, so I couldn't have told you if she was talking about pension investments or the price of petrol, all I knew is I wanted to get her home and down to business.... Once again the bedroom antics were very enjoyable. If she was half as animated outside the boudoir as she was in it, we'd be talking relationship material. She doesn't need asking twice to get into all sorts of positions and likes to finish up in a style that every man loves.....good girl As we lay there in the morning with the tv on, she asked if I'd like to go to the tate modern that afternoon. My defence mechanism quickly kicked in and I told her I was going to the football. That obviously was a complete lie and I was hoping she didnt for some reason see the results come in later on as my team were infact palying up in Lancashire. I managed to get her out at a reasonable time, do a few chores and then settle in for the x-factor. rock and roll.... I've got another date with a local girl this week and I really need to decide either way if I should see Pretty McBoring again. The problem is, being a bloke, good sex nearly always wins..... "What A Slag". Er, pot, kettle..... 09/24/2009
So after a bit of a baron spell between the sheets, I managed to get my freak on again last night. Phew. I was starting to think my charm was eroding and I'd have to get myself a dog....or just start paying for it. Before I go into how I managed to schmooze this poor girl into bed, I want to bring up a point that really irritates me in the online dating world. This is a conversation I had earlier this week with a girl that winked at me i.e she made first contact. Me: Thanks for the wink. How was your weekend? Her: Hi. Had a great weekend. Was out with work friends on friday night, then down by the river for lunch with some girlfriends on saturday. Sunday I did the family thing and saw my parents and brother. What about you? Me: I was out and about locally with a friends. Nothing too hectic. Few beers and watching a bit of sport. Have you got much planned this week? Her: Taking clients out for lunch on tuesday evening and I've got my body combat class on thursday. Then the weekend comes around again! Me: Cool. We should try and catch up for a drink sometime soon Her: We've only just started talking. I don't know anything about you!!! You're very direct aren't you? Does she want me to foward a dossier from the embassy about my every move since birth? Surely the whole point of meeting up is to get to know someone. My understanding is, you look at someone's profile pictures, if you like what you see, you then go into their profile and have a read, after which you make contact. Or for most guys, you look at the profile pictures, make contact if she looks hot, then read up on what she's all about once she agrees to a date. How many emails is this girl expecting before we actually meet? I've got better things to do than have hours of general chit chat with a complete stranger. Anyway, back to me getting laid last night..... I was fairly excited about the date as from her profile pictures, she was very much my type. Dark haired, petite, pretty face and 9 years younger than me. Thats how I roll. We met at Waterloo - I try and justify to myself that I'm making a big effort if I meet girls that live the other side of London there as it sounds fairly central - but in reality its a 5 minute train journey for me from Clapham Junction, so really I'm just being a lazy twat. On first impressions, I was more than happy. She was the girl I'd been most attracted to at first glance since I started online dating, so as we headed to the bar , I was a content man. As we settled into the evening, the conversation was flowing, but even after a few drinks I could sense that she draws out her stories a bit too much and the voice was pretty monotone. Now, as I've said before, after a few drinks my accent is bordering on Danny Dyer's over the top cockney - its like I'm riddled with it - but at least there is some expression there. She told one story about an online date that had travelled down to London from Birmingham a few weeks back. It was a daytime meet and he took her for a stroll down the Embankment, which could be quite a winner. Unfortunately for her, all he spoke about as they took a gentle walk by the river was if she owned crutchless knickers and was into using sex toys. She thought it was disgusting, I had quiet admiration for his upfront nature. Anyway, She managed to make her excuses and leave, but this reiterates my point of not travelling too far on a first date. Although I was zoning out a fair bit during the stories of when her grandad died and how she has just been made redundant, I was also very attracted to her. I thought I'd subtly step up the flirting levels just to see what sort of response I'd get, so we started talking about previous flings we'd had with online dates. She told me her tally was shagging one guy who she saw for a few months, so now that was the benchmark I toned mine down a bit. I let her know that I had previously slept with one online date and she asked two questions - what did she do (workwise)? and did you sleep with her on the first night?. I replied air stewardess and yes. Her retort - " What a slag" -....how she'll be regretting that line today.... As she had recently been made redundant, I knew she didn't have to get up for work in the morning. Although this obviously wasn't ideal for her, I saw it as a good angle to get her back to mine. I rolled out all the cliches of good things happen to good people, fate will take its course, the only way is up...blah blah. She was responding favourably and when I suggested going for a few more drinks in the Clapham area, she agreed. He he..... So from here on in it was plain sailing. A couple more drinks at my trusty local tapas bar and then back to mine. With Justin Timberlake on in the background, we got down to business. She had a great little body and lets just say, she wasn't shy, so a fun evening was had by all...I think. Luckily, she had some agency interviews to be getting to this afternoon, so left mid morning. We have arranged to meet again this weekend. I'm very attracted to her, so I'm hoping I'm just being overly critical of her monotone voice and really she's a bundle of laughs.....I can't see it though After yet another date last night, I'm starting to question what it is I'm actually after. At 33 years old you'd think I'd have a fair idea by now, but I'm clueless... I met my date, a 31 year old journalist, at a bar local to me. I'm certainly one of the laziest online daters out there as around 90% of my dates have been within a half mile radius of my flat. I should start to branch out a little bit, but I just don't understand people that travel miles for what is essentially a blind date. One girl told me that a guy flew in from New York to meet her - what a loser. There's almost 20 million people living in the Big Apple, so how dull must this guy be having to fly 3,500 miles across the pond to find love? She called it romantic, I'd call it bordering on insanity. She said they had a kiss but nothing more - If I'd spent £800 on a flight and 3 nights accommodation in a hotel, I'd have got it in writing before take off that I was at least getting some action. Anyway, each to their own.... So why I'm questioning my motives now is that last night I had a delightful evening with a charming, intelligent, attractive girl, but I came home half cut, checked my emails and within the blink of an eye had winked (for those not familiar with online dating, this is how you first make contact with someone if you can't be arsed to write a mail) at another 3 or 4 girls on a "suggested matches" mail that I get sent almost daily. Now I know the likelihood is that come next week I'll be on a date with one of these girls and then the cycle continues. Before the days of online dating, a guy would have to take his pretadorty instincts into the bar or nightclub arena and try and work his magic there. If he struck lucky and got a phone number, a date could be arranged for the following week and that would be his one option until the next time he went out. Now, lying at home on the sofa hungover watching the football, a whole harem of girls can be courted with a bit of email banter and a string of dates set up even before half time, leaving you able to watch the second half happy in the knowledge that your week night activites have been arranged without even moving. This, of course, is fantastic news, but with so many available options, I've lost focus of why I actually signed up. On one side of the coin I would love to meet someone I genuinely get on with and could see as a long term partner, but on the other, I get to fool around with a number of young ladies and as the saying goes, variety is the spice of life. I really do enjoy the thrill of a first date and knowing that I can have these on tap now, means my hunt for "the one" has cooled. So basically what I'm trying to say is, I haven't had sex for a month and I'm getting the right hump.... Romania, Nil Points...... 09/07/2009
So on friday I had arranged to meet my Romanian date up in Covent Garden, which is the first time I have ventured that far out of Clapham on a first date. Proving the point that men are very basic creautres, the reason I was dusting my ostyer card off was simply because of her wonderful looking breasts. As I've said before, I don't generally date girls whose mother tongue isn't English as I find alot of the banter and flirtatious comments get lost in translation....or perhaps they just don't find me funny or attractive, which could very well be the case... After a 5 minute wait outside the station, my date arrived. As she walked towards me it was quite clear that she was well aware of what a weapon her fantastic puppies were. She was wearing a very tight fitting, low cut top, that really did do them proud. Although I was obviously drawn towards these on first sight, I couldn't help but notice a wild mane of hair that wouldn't have looked out of place in an 80's soft rock music video. ... We headed to a little gem of a place that I stumbled across in the backstreets of Covent Garden and settled down at the cocktail bar to begin the evening off. Her English was almost better than mine and she was well travelled, having lived in New York for the previous two years. I'm not really sure what I had expected - maybe some gypsy type woman that appears at the start of the Borat movie, but she was obviously a well educated, smart girl . She was in London studying for a masters, au pairing for a family and sending most of the money earned back to her mother. Quite a humbling thought.... After a couple of hours sipping on Mojito's we headed into the buzz of London and she indicated that she felt like a dance. She had already slipped her arm into mine as we walked, something I'm really not comfortable with after the first year, let alone the first date. I took her into a club that I know well, which is more of a meat market than a serious dance venue, but more than adequate for her to have a boogie in. The drinks carried on flowing as we stood at the bar and she started to break out into a sexy little dance to a bit of cheesy music the DJ was playing. I was quite taken by her body and now we were a fair few alcohol units in, her hair was getting smaller. I was starting to think my rule of not dating foreign girls was a bit of a mockery and as I'm not getting any younger or prettier, maybe its time to tap into this market.... That thought changed very quickly. As I stood there by the bar , she danced over and put her arms over my shoulders and moved in for a kiss. I'm not great at PDA, but by this time I was hammered. As we locked lips, this horrendeous smell came wafting towards my nasal passage. It couldn't be? Having played alot of sport through the years, I've come across my fair share of body odour, but this was something to behold. I pulled away in horror, but she didnt seem to notice the shock on my face and just carried on dancing infront of me. I tried to convince myself that it couldnt be her, but the next time we got close, there was no doubting. It was so strong, I almost gagged. Can she not smell it? What the hell do I do now? As I ducked and swerved her every advance like championship boxer, I was trying to think of any excuse to leave now. Her hair was getting bigger again due to the sweat building up from her dancing, so it was like a stinking Michael Bolton trying to grapple with me. I knew when I was taking in deep breath's before she got too close that enough was enough. I told her that I had some work to do in the morning, so we headed out into the fresh air and I put her in a taxi. Phew.... As I jumped in a cab to my flat, I couldnt help thinking that maybe she should cut down on the money she sends back to Romania and invest in some basic products to tackle body odour. I get that I maybe sounding shallow here, but I did initially meet her just for the look of her titties.No wonder I'm still single..... Stop Shouting At Me..... 09/03/2009
Fresh from a great holiday with some friends over in Europe, I leapt straight into my first date of September last night. Before I talk about it, I just want to share details of an article that I read in a national newspaper whilst on the plane out to our destination. The story was about why English men are bad lovers and although I am not patriotic in the slightest , infact I'm saddened these days by the state of this country, one piece of the article riled me. A survey had been taken by men in a few European countries as to why they thought their English counterparts had been labelled as the continents worst in bed. Whilst most of the points were valid, the French men had commented that English men drink too much and are badly dressed...... Back up there Phillipe et Pierre. Badly dressed? Having worked in a French bank for almost 5 years, I can assure you that Paris cannot be the fashion capital of Europe. Unless boating shoes, ill fitting chinos and ridiculous neck ties have been the "in" thing for the last half a decade, season after season, then you are sadly misguided. On dress down friday, I haven't seen so many badly dressed men in one place since I went to an Austin Powers themed fancy dress party over 10 years ago. As for us drinking too much, fair point..... So last night I met up with a 26 year old teacher, who randomly teaches at my old school. Weird, but slightly turned me on to be honest. She wasn't drinking as she drives to work and never goes in with a hangover which is admirable stuff, so I thought I'd join her and ordered us two glasses of pop. Rock and roll. She was an extremely chatty girl and conversation came easily. She's from chinese origin and speaks with a real London accent which initially amused me, but then I realised that her loud,excitable voice was for real and wasn't just a nervous 5 minutes to begin with.... A pet hate of mine is when people listen in on your conversation whilst sitting in a bar or restaurant, but to be fair, you could have been in any establishment around the Clapham area last night and you would have heard what she had to say. After about an hour of a constant barrage of noise, I asked her if anyone had commented on her voice before. She replied "Yeah, friends take the piss that I'm really loud and talk alot". They're not taking the piss sweetheart. Its a subtle way of telling you to tone it down. Anyway, after two glasses of pop each, I walked her back to her car and we said our farewells. It was a short date and I'm pretty sure the hearing in my left ear hasnt quite come back, but I think we'll probably see each other again. Tomorrow I have arranged a date up town with a Romanian girl. I'm not going to lie, its purely on the basis that in her profile pictures she seems to have a cracking pair of funbags and a cute little tush. I'm hoping that she has a bit more about her than just those assets, but if not, they're a great distraction.... Remember girls....."A woman has got to love a bad man once or twice in her life to be thankful for a good one"......I'm just doing my job. |