* leave, madré, this one's not for your eyes * Ok, one of my tarty stories that I was SO not going to tell you but I find myself encouraged by the universe to share: Readers of my blog (hello, all 5 of you!) will remember that I took a sort of vow to behave myself late last year. You know, with boys. And kissing and stuff. And, like, sex. As in, not to have it randomly. And I've pretty much kept it so far which, if you knew me in my previous incarnation, you would recognise as a REALLY GOOD EFFORT But anyway. I was out and about (SUCH a daggy phrase) one Saturday about 6 weeks ago and had had a couple of drinks - more like a couple of dozen - and was at Iso (which I DON'T like but whatever, it was the only place still open) standing above the dance floor watching people dance and laughing at the people trying to dance (I know. I'm mean) when I noticed a HOT guy at the bar. And I mean smokin' HOT. Gorgeous. Yummy. Scrummy. Sexy and dishevelled and swarthy and European-looking (I'm a sucker for the Mediterranean look. Italians, mmm) and just generally delicious So I was about 3 metres away from a HOT guy in this dark, smokey club but I could still see that he was looking at me and he could see that I was looking at him and then he left his friends at the bar and walked right past me without giving me a second glance. Well fuck that! I hadn't been giving a HOT guy my 'look' (yes, I have a look. I'm like Zoolander, only not as Ben Stiller-y) for nothing so I went after him. I got to the top bit of the club and he was sitting on a bench waiting for me. He walked up to me without saying a WORD and pushed me against the wall and snogged me (which would have been GREAT had he been a good kisser. Which he was NOT *sigh*) and then asked if I wanted to go for a walk No, I'm not that naive. I knew that was code for "I want a bit" but he was HOT and I was DRUNK so I thought "fuck it, why not?" and went for a 'walk' I'm not going to go into great detail because ew, my brother reads this but while no, I didn't sleep with him, there was a bench under a light in the middle of the wharf (where half the pubs are) and he went home smiling. Ok? Reading between the lines? Don't get all disenchanted and gross-she's-a-tart with me cos trust me, I doubt I'd have gone with him sober Although he was HOT But here's the weird thing. The freaky thing. The more than slightly disturbing thing. Boo was reading the paper at my house yesterday and suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. She thrust the paper at me and watched me, still laughing, waiting for my reaction. I thought she was crazy until I looked at the page: the newspaper does little blip interviews with random people on the street every week and this week they had decided to interview the HOT guy! No darlings, that's not the weird, the freaky, the more than slightly disturbing thing. What made Boo turn herself inside out with laughter was the fact that this HOT guy... is 18!!!! I'm 22!!!! That's just WRONG! My SISTER and her friends are that age! And they're KIDS! I should never be allowed to drink. More especially cos Boo is NEVER going to let me live this one down! p.s. He was Portugese. Viva la sexy Europeans! |
If it's any consolation - do you remember me talking about my not-so-recent-anymore ex? He was 3 1/2 years younger than me.
Younger than my little sister.
I KNOW. Explains a lot..
European men may have the whole dark, mysterious thing going on, but you guys have the strapping surfer-y types, so it's a pretty even trade-off, really.