Blind Dates & Captain America
Ok, I’m back.
Apologies to you Reader for the intermittent nature of my blogging, my net connection is, for various reasons, unreliable. I’m working on it.
Ok, so I promised you a run down of my blind date. Well to give you a bit of background. The night was actually her leaving do from where she worked with my mate Pete. So there were loads of people round ALL of whom knew that Pete had set me and Miss Potential up (as he gleefully informed me just as we were walking into Wetherspoons - bastard) so no pressure then. No, not at all.
Also, my best friend and confidant had neglected to mention that Miss P was my age with two kids. Would I have turned down the date if I’d known that beforehand? No, curiosity over this person whom Pete had said ‘I’ve told her about you and she seems really interested’ far out weighed any shallow misgivings over age or kids. The age thing is interesting because both of my previous long-term relationships, in fact thinking about it all my relationships have been with women who are younger than me by at least four years. I personally think that the younger you are the more significant the difference in age is to the relationship, but maybe that’s just me.
Anyway, I digress.
So, first things first. Appearances, yes I know it’s shallow but it’s also fact that in the first few moments all you really have to go on is the looks (which is why I’ve always seem to do ok until the lights come up. Ha-ha) and I’ll be brutally honest here and say that she looked her age, more specifically, she looked my age which is something I know don’t. But she did have a really great figure and wasn’t unattractive at all, just older than I’m used to. Well I’m here now, let’s see how this progresses.
Luckily almost everyone buggered off to the Q Lounge, a horrible place where the highest IQ belongs to the quiz machine, leaving me (obviously), Pete and Mary, Big Gav and Miss P, basically everyone over the age of twenty-five. We went off to a different pub and that’s when things started to get interesting. We got chatting, I think I opened with something along the lines of ‘I hope you’re as nervous as I am’, which was the truth by the way, and we proceeded from there.
She was really easy to talk to, obviously intelligent, a quick wit and a pretty sharp sense of humour but not abrasive with it. It wasn’t long before I’d completely forgotten about my pre-date nerves, good company and copious alcohol will do that to you, and although as a group we were having a great time more and more I found myself just talking with Miss P. After a few more bars, we wound up in a seriously cheesy 70’s nightclub (if you know Nottingham I’m talking Flares), normally somewhere wild horses couldn’t drag me but by then I was way past caring.
So with Pete yelling behind us ‘FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST KISS HER!’ we did, and yes it was good. I love drunken snogging. Fuck oysters, drunken snogs are a guaranteed aphrodisiac for me. It’s such an ego boost I forget that the other person is just as pissed as I am and all I think is ‘YES, I am attractive! Woo-hoo!’ Ok, I know this shows a certain lack of maturity and insecurity in my thinking but what can I say, I’m trying to be honest here.
It became a bit of a blur after that, I don’t remember her asking me back to her place or the rather long taxi ride there. My next coherent memory is of being made a cup of tea and that’s when I kind of ‘came back to myself’ I suppose you can call it. So we drank tea and chatted in her living room for a bit.
Then we went to bed.
Holy Mary Mother of God.
I have never had sex like that. She knew what she wanted, how to ask for it, her enthusiasm encouraged me to try a couple of things that in the past I’ve waited until we’re ‘settled’ enough in a relationship to do. Without going into too many details, it was exciting, energetic, fresh and about as sexy an experience as I’ve ever had. I’ve dated some girls for years and never had sex like it.
(Phew, feeling all flushed. I may have to go and lie down in a dark room for ten minutes ( )
There was however one slight problem.
Alcohol.
Initially, I was Captain America, ready for action and raring to go. Unfortunately my knob was more closely related to Captain Pugwash and as we went on just decided that enough was enough. It was kind of a ‘Look mate, as good as this is do you have any idea what that amount of vodka does to me? I’m knackered and I’m off for a kip. Deal with it.’
Fuck.
Or not as it happens.
So rather than, like a typical man, try and deny the obvious, I apologised, not overly, these things happen after all, and she cuddled up next to me with her head on my chest and we talked.
And talked.
And talked.
Until just before 6 a.m.
There was so much and there’s no need to give all the details, but she did ask, twice ‘Why am I so comfortable with you?’
I didn’t know the answer but it felt good to hear.
So the next day as I walked through the park near my home, still dressed up from the night before, I thought about what had happened and the thought that kept crossing my mind was ‘How good was I?’
For the female readers this is probably indicative of the fundamentally immature nature of the male ego but from my perspective if I scored ok then everything else would follow.
As Pete summed up perfectly later that Sunday ‘You’re basically judging the success or failure of the entire date on your performance in the bedroom’
So I texted her that evening, something along the lines of ‘Hi, had a great night, hope to see you soon.’. Got an ok but ambiguous response to that. There was only one way I was going to get to really find out what she thought. Get Pete to ask her friends at work on Monday.
Well, as it turns out, apparently I’m was an 8 out of 10 (and if I’d been capable of finishing the job it would have been a high 10). Needless to say my ego has been ridiculously inflated this week. We’ve been texting and had a couple of phone calls but arranging another date has been more difficult. Obviously she has two kids and is starting her new job tomorrow so finding a mutual time is difficult and to be honest I’ve found it a bit frustrating but that’s my issue and it’s one I’ll deal with.
Looking forward to seeing where this goes.
G’Night Reader.
P.S. If you’ve got this far, it’ll be a miracle.
:-)
Apologies to you Reader for the intermittent nature of my blogging, my net connection is, for various reasons, unreliable. I’m working on it.
Ok, so I promised you a run down of my blind date. Well to give you a bit of background. The night was actually her leaving do from where she worked with my mate Pete. So there were loads of people round ALL of whom knew that Pete had set me and Miss Potential up (as he gleefully informed me just as we were walking into Wetherspoons - bastard) so no pressure then. No, not at all.
Also, my best friend and confidant had neglected to mention that Miss P was my age with two kids. Would I have turned down the date if I’d known that beforehand? No, curiosity over this person whom Pete had said ‘I’ve told her about you and she seems really interested’ far out weighed any shallow misgivings over age or kids. The age thing is interesting because both of my previous long-term relationships, in fact thinking about it all my relationships have been with women who are younger than me by at least four years. I personally think that the younger you are the more significant the difference in age is to the relationship, but maybe that’s just me.
Anyway, I digress.
So, first things first. Appearances, yes I know it’s shallow but it’s also fact that in the first few moments all you really have to go on is the looks (which is why I’ve always seem to do ok until the lights come up. Ha-ha) and I’ll be brutally honest here and say that she looked her age, more specifically, she looked my age which is something I know don’t. But she did have a really great figure and wasn’t unattractive at all, just older than I’m used to. Well I’m here now, let’s see how this progresses.
Luckily almost everyone buggered off to the Q Lounge, a horrible place where the highest IQ belongs to the quiz machine, leaving me (obviously), Pete and Mary, Big Gav and Miss P, basically everyone over the age of twenty-five. We went off to a different pub and that’s when things started to get interesting. We got chatting, I think I opened with something along the lines of ‘I hope you’re as nervous as I am’, which was the truth by the way, and we proceeded from there.
She was really easy to talk to, obviously intelligent, a quick wit and a pretty sharp sense of humour but not abrasive with it. It wasn’t long before I’d completely forgotten about my pre-date nerves, good company and copious alcohol will do that to you, and although as a group we were having a great time more and more I found myself just talking with Miss P. After a few more bars, we wound up in a seriously cheesy 70’s nightclub (if you know Nottingham I’m talking Flares), normally somewhere wild horses couldn’t drag me but by then I was way past caring.
So with Pete yelling behind us ‘FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST KISS HER!’ we did, and yes it was good. I love drunken snogging. Fuck oysters, drunken snogs are a guaranteed aphrodisiac for me. It’s such an ego boost I forget that the other person is just as pissed as I am and all I think is ‘YES, I am attractive! Woo-hoo!’ Ok, I know this shows a certain lack of maturity and insecurity in my thinking but what can I say, I’m trying to be honest here.
It became a bit of a blur after that, I don’t remember her asking me back to her place or the rather long taxi ride there. My next coherent memory is of being made a cup of tea and that’s when I kind of ‘came back to myself’ I suppose you can call it. So we drank tea and chatted in her living room for a bit.
Then we went to bed.
Holy Mary Mother of God.
I have never had sex like that. She knew what she wanted, how to ask for it, her enthusiasm encouraged me to try a couple of things that in the past I’ve waited until we’re ‘settled’ enough in a relationship to do. Without going into too many details, it was exciting, energetic, fresh and about as sexy an experience as I’ve ever had. I’ve dated some girls for years and never had sex like it.
(Phew, feeling all flushed. I may have to go and lie down in a dark room for ten minutes ( )
There was however one slight problem.
Alcohol.
Initially, I was Captain America, ready for action and raring to go. Unfortunately my knob was more closely related to Captain Pugwash and as we went on just decided that enough was enough. It was kind of a ‘Look mate, as good as this is do you have any idea what that amount of vodka does to me? I’m knackered and I’m off for a kip. Deal with it.’
Fuck.
Or not as it happens.
So rather than, like a typical man, try and deny the obvious, I apologised, not overly, these things happen after all, and she cuddled up next to me with her head on my chest and we talked.
And talked.
And talked.
Until just before 6 a.m.
There was so much and there’s no need to give all the details, but she did ask, twice ‘Why am I so comfortable with you?’
I didn’t know the answer but it felt good to hear.
So the next day as I walked through the park near my home, still dressed up from the night before, I thought about what had happened and the thought that kept crossing my mind was ‘How good was I?’
For the female readers this is probably indicative of the fundamentally immature nature of the male ego but from my perspective if I scored ok then everything else would follow.
As Pete summed up perfectly later that Sunday ‘You’re basically judging the success or failure of the entire date on your performance in the bedroom’
So I texted her that evening, something along the lines of ‘Hi, had a great night, hope to see you soon.’. Got an ok but ambiguous response to that. There was only one way I was going to get to really find out what she thought. Get Pete to ask her friends at work on Monday.
Well, as it turns out, apparently I’m was an 8 out of 10 (and if I’d been capable of finishing the job it would have been a high 10). Needless to say my ego has been ridiculously inflated this week. We’ve been texting and had a couple of phone calls but arranging another date has been more difficult. Obviously she has two kids and is starting her new job tomorrow so finding a mutual time is difficult and to be honest I’ve found it a bit frustrating but that’s my issue and it’s one I’ll deal with.
Looking forward to seeing where this goes.
G’Night Reader.
P.S. If you’ve got this far, it’ll be a miracle.
:-)
posted by Journeyman at 1:04 am
5 Comments:
Reading you from BlogExplosion, thought I'd drop you a line.
I've always found that my age or older is almost always better than younger. The ladies that are my age or older have less to prove, learned more, know what they want, and as you said, often know how to ask for it. Much better that way.
Hope this relationship works out for you!
Thanks for your comments Don.
So do I.
Ah, the male performance based ego, I operate one of those models myself. Likewise I find that adding alcohol to the fule mixture has its benifits and liabilities, if you get the mixture correct the motor purrs and doesn't sputter, too rich, though, and failure is eminent. Glad all seems to have worked out so far with the mutual interest and all. I am more familiar with her perspective as I am the one with the kids but all worked out.
I got here from BLogExplosion, and read to the end! Pretty riveting stuff, I'm glad it went well (score!) and all the best in the future.
I want to preface this comment by saying I mean absolutely no offense, but from what I've read here, you went on a blind date, got drunk, went to bed with her and now you are calling her Miss Potential?
Dude, you don't even know her.
The fact that her ex is still hanging around is not good, either. She's either not over him, he's not over her, or both. Also, he was at her place when she was sick. Big red flag.
I wish you luck, however, maybe you should proceeed with caution. Might be ok for just sex, but if you're wanting something more, you may want to keep shopping.
Just my take.
Post a Comment
<< Home