This year, as usual I am single on the dreaded V-day, however I have revived my first ever valentines card, from who I suspected, I can’t post a picture as it has my name on it, but it haz kittehs on, so I like it.
The good news is, I did have a date on Thursday night (as some of you knew) and it went rather well. He’s a little younger than me, only by about 2 years, good looking (no idea why he was on a dating site) and most importantly geeky. It was actually the first proper “date” I’ve ever been on*.
He’d winked at me on a certain dating website, I’d emailed him along the lines of “hi, thanks for the wink, you’re cute, lets get it on” and got a favourable reply, we emailed back and forth for about a week and decided to meet up, it took us another week to arrange and finally get to the date.
I wore a dress to work that day, but took a spare outfit I was convinced I would either spill something on it or decide I hate what I was wearing and need to change before my date. I got a lot of comments from co-workers saying how good I looked. My only annoyance was rushing down the stairs I snapped my garter belt so couldn’t wear the sexy Cuban heeled seamed stockings I wanted, and had to wear some charcoal grey tights instead. But the outfit worked, I spent most of the day distracting male co-workers, even I spotted them sneaking glances at my cleavage and the peek of red-satin you got when my neckline moved with every slight movement.
Typically my train was delayed, then cancelled, then I spent 5 minuted rushing all over the station trying to work out what in the hell platform my connecting train left from, almost killing myself in the process, only to find out it left from the other side of the platform I’d finally arrived on. All this meant I didn’t have time to get a ticket, and then the conductor turned ’round just as he reached my carriage so I couldn’t buy one off him. Of course there are ticket barriers at the station, I see my date sat waiting for me and I have to faff getting a ticket handing it back to the barrier guard and such like.
However after this (almost) everything went well, we hadn’t planned anything specific just food and then see where things went, we went to a scrummy Italian restaurant and spent so long chatting the waitress asked us about a dozen times if we were ready to order, we just kept jumping from topic to topic so much we never got a chance to look at the menu. We eventually ordered and just belthered around mouthfuls of Italian food, we moved on to a nice bar, drank, talked and shot pool. Comedy moment of the night was me nearly ensuring CuteGeek would never go to bed with anyone ever again. I’d had a little too much to drink, break shot, I hit a little to hard, cue ball breaks, then ricochets off the table zooms straight towards CuteGeek’s crotch, luckily he was holding the pool cue in front of him, the base resting on the floor. The cue ball whacked his cue immediately in front of soft danglies, again ricochets off the cue and almost hits someone else playing on the next table over. “Did I do something to offend you?!” CuteGeek asks, I can’t reply as I’m doubled up on the floor trying not to wet myself I’m laughing that hard. I’m both horrified at myself thinking it’s all over he’ll never want to see me again, and finding it just hilarious.
We were having such a good time, despite him nearly becoming a eunuch, that I missed my intended train, I did get the last one apparently he tried to peck me on the cheek and I ninja’d it into a hug, again the drink was to blame I didn’t even notice, ooops. But if he went in for a kiss even if it’s just one on the cheek I’m thinking the night went well. He was a proper gent got most of the drinks and offered to pay for the meal, I wouldn’t let him and we went Dutch.
Anyway the long and short of it is, we’ll be seeing each other again sometime soon, and maybe I’ll get my kiss this time. So wish me luck with this one, and the several other men I’ve got simmering away at the moment.
* There is an argument I went out on one with someone a while back, I called it a “date-thingie” a friend of mine called it a date.