Date update:
- Met J. at The Yard for a couple of drinks. Jaw-dropping handsome. Excellent, lively, stimulating conversation, lots of eye contact and smiling.
- Went for a quick, cheap dinner at the Stockpot. More animated discussion, that we both cranked up a notch with tactful, subdued flirting.
- After-dinner coffee at Bar Italia, where I showed off by ordering in Italian.
- Tube ride to his place for a nightcap. Sat on the couch as he shyly put his arm around my shoulders, like a coy teenager at an important movie date.
- Tender, passionate, sweet, intense, raunchy sex.
- Cuddle and sleep.
- More tender, passionate, sweet, intense, raunchy sex.
- Breakfast (him) and cigarette in the garden (me).
- Kissing and apologizing for my cigarette breath – he said he does not mind it at all.
- One last kiss in his car as he dropped me off at the tube station, just like long-term partners on their way to work.
So where’s the catch?
(Oh, and he is 31, by the way)
oh, you hoecake.
Well, after years and years as a serial monogamist, I deserve a bit of mindless fun, don’t I?
So, it’s not baby-snatcher… it’s Career Wrecker!
Career Wrecker ???
hoecake
Whoo! (Mind you, it has to be downhill from here in – just you wait for that innocent “…how many cigarettes do you smoke a day?”
That is, if I ever get to see him again: I’m still waiting for him to return a message I’ve left him. Wouldn’t be surprised if he disappeared in a puff of smoke.
I mean, 31. Start of that crucial half-decade of a man’s working life. Got to get on, get ahead. If he’s all tangled up in love, what’ll happen to his promotion? How will he afford to run that car in London? ((((-:
Oops, I’ve forgotten to dedicate that crucial half-decade to my career, and now it’s practically over. Better save some of those plums for my old age (that’s all I’ve got).