Although I've come in for a fair amount of ribbing through the years due to fake tanning, I'm still a great advocat of it when done properly. Unfortunately, I generally used to apply it still half cut from the previous evening at 6am, before heading off to work. The intention was to make my face radiate a bit more than the pale drunken mess that stared back at me in the mirror. Potentially I could get a nice tanned glow that would fool work colleagues and bosses into thinking that I'd got an early night, but in reality I looked as though I'd varnished someone's parquet flooring with my face. I also never cleaned my hands properly after application, so they looked like  I'd been up all night hand painting with a 5 year old. Not a great all round look when heading into an Investment Bank, but I somehow managed to hold down a career up in the city for over decade.

When I caught sight of my date on saturday evening, it was quite apparent I wasn't the only one that struggled with the whole fake tanning process. She jokingly suggested in one of her emails that she hoped we'd recognise each other. I certainly had no trouble in picking her from the crowd at Waterloo - she was quite literally glowing.

After my eyes had adjusted to the hightened brightness levels, we headed off for a bite to eat. Straight off the bat, she told me she had recently caught her long term boyfriend cheating with another girl from their tennis club. Ouch. I was her second online date, but it soon became clear that her ex's betrayal was still on her mind.

From here, a guy can go one of two ways. Get a little annoyed that his date keeps yapping on about her ex boyfriend or see this situation as a great opportunity to have a bit of rebound sex. I chose the latter....

Listening intently to her story, whilst constantly topping up her wine glass, I threw in a few comments like "He must be mad to let you go" and "I bet he'll end up regretting his choice soon enough". I started to zone out on most of the conversation as it was fucking boring me, but the odd boosting of her confidence as she paused for breath was well received.

We finished up the meal and went onto another bar. By this time talk of her ex was easing up and she was becoming a bit more tactile...like the A-Team, I love it when a plan comes together. My tactics of letting her talk and gently massaging her tattered ego were paying off, but there was still one big stumbling block. She lived over in Essex and me in SW London. This is really where I had to step my game up if I were to get her back to mine.

Knowing that she was still quite clearly not over her ex, it was time to subtly let her know she should be letting her hair down, having fun, going wild.....and most importantly, sleeping with me.
 
Its never a good idea to be too complimentary really early in the date as this can come across as overly keen, so once the signs are there that she enjoys your company, whether it be by her laughing at most things you have to say, being tactile or playing with her hair, its time to schmooze.

From letting her know that she looked so much younger than her age (she was 32 and looked...about 32), to telling her that she should really start enjoying her new found freedom, I seemed to be getting through. When she came back from the bar with our drinks + a couple of shots, I knew my chances of getting her over to my side of town were vastly improving. I suggested we should go and have a boogie somewhere to which she agreed. Then I slipped in that there is a really good club (complete lie, its a shithole) in Clapham, which is only a 10 min cab ride away, but more conveniently, where I live. She agreed. Before we left to jump into a taxi, I went into the toilet, really just to congratulate myself more than anything. Mission complete...or so I thought.

Whilst in the nightclub waiting to be served, I sent a text to a couple of mates informing them I would be getting laid later on. Too smug. After a little dance to some 70's classics and a few more drinks, we headed back to my place. On the short cab journey home, my bubble burst. She informed me that "I'm not going to sleep with you tonight". Huh?  Had she headed 90 minutes away from her area to play a bit of late night scrabble?  I agreed with her whole heartedly that we shouldn't, but I thought once we were in bed it would be a different story....

It wasn't. She got down to her thong and bra and had an arse like a ripe peach. We had a little kiss but she was adament it wasn't going any further. My last attempt was to get some music on to put her in the mood, but by the time I'd found my ipod, fumbled about to get it onto the Boys 2 Men playlist and managed to plug it into my speakers, she had nodded off. The art of seduction.

I'm not a great sleeper, so there was no way I was going to snooze next to a half naked girl with an arse so good I wanted to take a bite out of it. I went into the lounge and stayed up watching some shit early hours film until I finally dropped off.

She left very early as she had a family lunch, which I was most pleased with. I climbed into my bed and nursed my hangover for much of the day. Although she was a nice girl, I'm pretty sure we won't see each other again, due to distance and if I was to date her long term, my fake tan outlay would go through the roof....

Take care my little orange friend......