It’s like living in a soap opera sometimes… with more sex.

Oooh I can get so angry sometimes. This can be really frustrating on the occasions when I know I shouldn’t be angry, yet still am. I experienced this recently, after a second meeting with the aforementioned Date Boy.

There has been a reasonable amount of contact since our indiscretion a week earlier and recently he invited himself round for stand-up comedy and takeaway pizza. I was a bit concerned that we’d gone into quite a cosy zone awfully quick but I guess some people are just like that and as I enjoy both stand-up and pizza it seemed like a perfectly pleasant prelude to round 2 of our bedroom gymnastics.

Turns out I was wrong. We watched the DVD, ate some pizza, and when the credits rolled… he asked me to call him a cab home. I was a little perplexed, I’ll tell you that for nothing and had to really struggle to make it clear that he was welcome to stay the night without sounding too  much like a slut!

His response: “I don’t want you to think that I’m only interested in you for sex.”

Me: “But what if that’s all I want?” (Don’t think he heard me say that properly through his bluster)

Him: “I think we’d make better friends than a potential bootie call.”

Me: “Oh. Your cab’s here.”

Well what could I say?! That I thought he was wrong, that I thought we were incredibly well suited in the bedroom and I would regret not being able to ride his cock blisswards again? Somehow, it didn’t seem appropriate. And then the anger. A lot of it. The next morning I awoke so consumed by it that I had to contact a close friend to help me rationalise. After all, if the shoe had been on the other foot and I’d not wanted to get jiggy with him I’d have wanted that to be accepted with no ill feeling wouldn’t I? So what was my problem?

We went through a few possibilities. Was I actually just very angry with myself as I’d failed to live up to my nosexonafirstdate challenge with this man who was subsequently giving me the brush off? Had he changed his mind about my attractiveness since that night? Being found unattractive by someone who’s already tasted the goods made me angry… It boiled down to rejection, my frend pointed out, and that’s what was fuelling my rage. I had to calm down, chalk it up as another bad ‘un (my chalk is wearing down) and get past it. She was right.

After calming my anger with some handicrafts and general chilling out with some lovely people I went to meet a friend I hadn’t seen in a while for pre-arranged drinks. I was a lot calmer by this point so I think only a little of the bile spilled out and most of the afternoon was spent drinking and chatting and generally having a good time. Having drunk beer with this friend for about 5 hours solid we said our goodbye and I hopped on the bus home. Wasted but very happy.

The bus dropped me off a good 5-10 min walk from home and beer being beer I realised this journey would have to have a comfort break built in, so logically, I stopped at the pub. When I came back down the stairs I bumped into a couple of friends including my ex-from-a-while-back’s close mate, Iain. He and I have known each other aslong as I’ve known my ex, whom I met about 4 years ago and lived with for nearly 2. The break up was hard on him and I’ve only recently really started to build the friendship back up. Which is why the next bit of the story is so fucking stupid!

Iain is also very drunk and immediately buys me a drink. Then another. Then we’re in another bar and he’s buying more drinks. At this point we’re both incredibly drunk and flirting. That’s not too crazy though, we’re both chronic flirts and certainly good enough friends to be drinking buddies. A girl has been flitting around him all evening though it’s a little sad as he’s very clearly not interested. As she leans in to his ear before sauntering off to powder her nose he watches her go. As soon as the door closes behind her he says “Grab you coat, leave your drink we’re going.”

“Whu, what?” says I, “Why?” I’m all drunk and confused.

“Come on,” he says standing up “quickly!”.

So we make an incredibly sharp exit from the bar and we seem to be walking towards his place at speed. (Just goes to prove that a commanding tone of voice can make me do anythinig at a certain level of inebriation!) When I asked him why we were leaving in such a hurry, what had the girl said, the answer was that she had asked him to ditch me so she and he could get it on. Evidently this wasn’t a solution he favoured ha!

I don’t exactly recall how the kissing started, but I remember how it progressed. Energetically! We tore his flat apart, knocked over the enormous flatscreen TV, smashed an ashtray, scattered clothes and soft furnishings everywhere! It was all so much fun! He is obviously one of those men that enjoys giving head and I wouldn’t have been surprised if his tongue was nearly as sore as his head the next day. I enjoyed it a lot, but felt very guilty afterwards (through the haze of a death-like hangover) about my ex. We had split up because I din’t find him sexually exciting and sleeping with one of his closest friends seemed like quite the insult.

I left sheepishly the next morning, knowing full well that I didn’t have Iain’s number, nor did I want it. We saw each other again at a mutual friend’s funeral about a week later (one of those good ones where everyone’s celebrating a life well lived) and he cornered me outside for a cig and some meaningful eye contact. We conpared injuries still visible from that night with schoolkid-like smirks. Later on when a bit more tipsy he took my number, only to text later that evening, asking to come over for fun times. I politley turned him down, but I know it was more because I was exhausted than anything else.

Now I know how much fun can be had, I can see my will power being stretched again in the future, and as we all know, it’s about as resistant as over-worn elastic.

I’ll tell you what happened with DateBoy another time…

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