A Night of Waistcoats, Free Drinks and Disappointment

Hi Guys,

So another week another entry. But also a few more tales to tell. I have just finished saying goodbye to an Aunt of mine who is visiting from southern Ireland. After escaping the uncomfortable heat of my fathers lounge we went for a sneaky cigarette and chat outside. I discovered that it is not only my friends that follow me and my blog. Turns out Auntie-Ireland is a big fan?!

As explained in the last post Miss Chocolate and I were having a night out on the tiles. And a night out on the tiles it was. It started with my parents going away for the weekend to London and so I had the whole house to myself - Bliss! I got ready as usual only to find the only hairdryer in the house was going to London on a trip too. Very unhappy little lady, with added frizzy hair. I planned on wearing a little black number, 'The Knockout' dress I bought from a well-known high street shop. In fact I was quite impressed that I had fitted into there sizes as I am a self confessed calorie-ignorer. As I left for the station looked hot to trott and with a sheer front and back panel to the dress I had to have balls to be wearing it. Upon arriving to said location and meeting with Miss Chocolate I split my tights and proceeded to the nearest corner shop to by some more, only to then barter with the assistant to try and get a discount. I ended up paying £2.99 for 4 pairs of black opaque tights that little old ladies wear. Once we entering the club, Miss Chocolate and I quickly hit the bar and necked a few and chatted for a bit until the conversation took a turn towards the subject of Mr. Coffee. I had spoken to him briefly that afternoon but as with every time we speak, it is never long enough for me to edge towards asking him on a date. And yes I have resigned myself to the fact that whilst he is lovely, if this is going to anywhere it will yet again be me tugging on the reins. I had told Miss Chocolate that Mr. Coffee was due to be out tonight, weather it was in attendance at the same establishment or not was another thing entirely. Apparently this had given Miss Chocolate a spiffing idea to text my undying yurn for him and also a voice mail message too.
 
As we yet again approached the bar, a man started coming onto us. To his dismay Miss Chocolate and I pulled out our favourite one-liner saved especially for creeps like him and told him that we were lesbians out on a les-only-bender (no pun intended). Graciously he still bought us a drink though, but continued to pester us all night, probably in the hope of watching some girl on girl action. While slowly getting more and more drunk I decided that as he had not responded (no surprise) that I should pursue other avenues of interest. Then, just as I was explaining my plot the most incredible, fairy book man appeared glowing through the dry ice and the coloured lights. All four points I look for in a man were checked off. Shoes: Made of leather, slightly pointed and modern. Eyes: Deep chestnut brown and protected by some practical geeky specs. Teeth: Shiny white and squeaky clean. Hair: Strawberry blonde in a roughed up style, something I was itching to run my fingers through. All four points is a rare find, but then add on top the fact that he was wearing a crisp white shirt and black trousers, accompanied by a matching waistcoat. A black tie gently finished off the combination along with a tie pin. I mean who wears them. No one, unless your like a proper nice 'take-me-home-to-mummy-and-daddy' kinda guy. Accompanying his attire was a white handkerchief tucked neatly into the pocket of his waistcoat. Not a piece of white paper carefully folded to pretend, nor a natty napkin from the local chippy. A proper gentleman's handkerchief. I froze. This was it! Yasmin sensed I was on the prowl and promptly said to go and get him, and like a sexy lioness I stalked over to my prey. The intention was that if I had big enough balls to wear this dress and come out of the house with my hair half curled then why the hell not. As I approached my victim I mentioned how I liked his waistcoat and he fondly admired my dress and touched my hair whilst commenting on its prettiness. At this point I nearly lost it and ravished him right there and then, but I played it cool. We chatted and he mentioned how he looked similar to a posh billionaire whom I know of. I agreed and before I had a chance to shut my mouth the alcohol explained how I had a massive crush on him. Best move ever! After conversing for a substantial time we headed off in separate directions to find yet again more beverages. I returned to Miss Chocolate to find her smiling ear to ear, almost splitting her face in half. She and I both knew that the chase was on!

We tried to keep track of Mr.Waistcoat and his poshly clad entourage but it was getting harder as the club got busier. Miss Chocolate and I kept and eye out for him and she would always push me in his direction. I would always gracefully return the favour whenever I saw Miss Chocolate's 'Type', however she seemed to be more Gazelle than Lioness when it came down to it and would sprint for the nearest hideout. After a while I got bored of trying with Mr. Waistcoat and pursued someone that was more easily seduced. It didn't take long to lure someone in and we started to attempt idle small talk on a crowded dance floor surrounded by revellers and banging tunes. Before long we were having a soft make-out session and I must say that whilst his face was a tad bristly, he wasn't a bad kisser. I yet again tired of him and moved out again towards Miss Chocolate was seated sipping on a straight Cola as she was driving. It was getting late and I had not yet found a meal to take home. Now I know this sounds like I'm a bit of a Harlequin and all but the thing is all women do it. We all look for a guy when were out to make a move on or to tempt him over to us and buy us a drink or just say 'Hi'. Difference is I'm brave enough to talk about it openly. If a man did it - which they do - it would be seen as normal and probably given a high-five approval. Just because Ive got mammary glands doesn't mean I cant go on the prowl for fresh meat!

Mr. Waistcoat was nowhere to be found, Mr. Coffee wasn't responding, and I had gotten bored with Mr. Bumfuzz. I approached my final target, intent on making this one count. I had seen him around before and smiled and said 'Hey' a few times but now I made my move. Yet again I opened with my full-proof, undefeated line. Hook. Line. Sinker. As we started dancing he softly stroked my left arm as we swayed against the music and lights. It sounds creepy but was actually very sensual. Again another nice young man. That was until I went to touch his arm, but as I went to affectionately return the stroking favour, our hands accidentally bumped into one another. Now usually this wouldn't be an issue, especially maybe in the sort of situation, however it is not usual for his hand to be mangled and twisted in such a way that I nearly recoiled in horror. I kept calm though and willed myself not to look down at his gammy hand. Maybe it was just default? Maybe he just had an erection because you were so hot and was trying to expel it by making funny hands? Besides the rest of him wasn't deformed in any way. I mean it wasn't like I was dancing with Quasimodo or anything. He seemed nice and not in the slightest strange. Pushing this thought to the back of my head, I turned to face my fellow sister of Singlesville. Her face changed as she looked at the clock on her phone. Hearing the music slowly die and the lights start to come on I swiftly left Mr. Take-My-Strowng-Hand and made my way to Miss Chocolates side. Only to discover that I had twelve minutes to make it to my train on time. If I didn't make this one, I would have an hour wait until the next one at 4.15am. Like a strong Ox she pulled me away and pushed me into the path of the newly founded Mr. Waistcoat. Intoxicated, I stood there until I was nudged into asking for his number. I cautiously entered the digits one-by-one in the effort not to fluff up one last attempt at hitting on him. Realising I had minutes to spare I said my goodbyes and left, fleeing into the night like Cinderella.
 
After frantically running to the station I narrowly got on the train before leaving and got home safely. I did however end up throwing up and only managing to reach for my Mothers cherished crystal key bowl on the coffee table. I did a good job of washing up the following morning and I am sure she shall never find out. Disappointingly I didn't see Mr. Coffee but also that I never brought anyone home but maybe that was for the best given my unsettled stomach. On the plus side I have Mr. Waistcoats number and have been talking to him today so we shall see where this one goes, although I don't think it shall go very far, given the circumstances we met upon aren't the most romantical?! We shall have to wait and see ...
 
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx