Evening everybody,
Now after last week's entry I have been made aware that my twenty-second birthday is nearly upon me. Oh what an age but so far I don't think I have much to show for it apart from some very good stories and a few not so good. Haha. One story in which I have yet to share with you all.
Now before Mr. Cheese walked onto the scene (or galloped on, with his tin-foil suit and Zebra steed intact) I was just starting out, dabbling my feet in the cold waters of dating. This was when I met Mr. Carrots. We were introduced through friends after Miss Chocolate had been befriended by him on a social networking site some months earlier. She had no qualms with me and Mr. Carrots meeting for a casual date after she said that he was far too clingy and 'try-hard'. Should have known from the beginning really?
After a few weeks of mindless chit-chat we decided to meet up in person. Mr. Carrots lived on the outskirts of Luton and I in Flitwick with Daddy and his girlfriend at the time. We agreed to meet in the town centre and to go for a couple of drinks before I continued my evening with Miss Chocolate and some old college friends. I knew that Mr. Carrots wasn't a looker but when you are single and someone shows you interest you don't turn it away, besides - Maybe it would be a grower, like mold? Thus said, this was not the case. He was not my type at all but I thought he deserved at least a chance.
Walking up to the court-yard where we had planned to meet there was only one lone figure standing out. It was him. Mr. Carrots. Whilst on the phone to Miss Chocolate I thought that maybe I could just ditch it and do a runner. Then I got a text. He had seen me. As I hung up and nervously walked over to where he was standing there was defiantly no turning back. Mr. Carrots wasted no time in pulling me in for a bear hug and awkwardly I went in for the french double-cheek kiss which he didn't get at all and we ended up in an head-swaying competition in which we both didn't want to be entered in. Eventually we started to walk further into the town and began the small talk. Obviously forgetting the fact that I had told Mr. Carrots previously I had lived and still visited regularly Luton he began to point out buildings of significance and explain their purpose. I didn't have the heart to tell him again and so just let him waffle on.
After a short walk we arrived outside a pub I knew well. Taking me inside I watched as Mr. Carrot's face dropped to the floor and with everyone in the bar looking at us like we just kicked a cat, typical me I made a chirpy comment about getting us a table whilst he grabbed up some drinks. As I approached the table I took a moment to look around. Two women in the corner of foreign origin whom I am almost positive were waiting for the streets of the town to get dark enough so they could go out to work. The rest of the locals were men, all of them above the age of forty with a taste for beer and possibly the odd scrap. Yes. I knew this bar well, but not for the right reasons.
It was at this point that a drunken resident stood in front of the table I had chosen and proclaimed his love for me in an heavy northern Irish accent. Still to this day my friends are amazed at how well I can pull it off. Whilst he adorned me with praise for my beauty I silently begged him to leave before Mr. Carrots arrived through an awkward smile. Finally he left and soon Mr. Carrots took his place and we proceeded with the conversation. By this point I had already felt that there was not spark, not even a click of a lighter and that sweet as he was, Mr. Carrots was not a future Beau.
As the conversation progressed it finally was spun round to football. After about ten minutes of awkward and ideal conversing about football and the weather I was praying for a ice-breaker but I knew that even a Blue Whale couldn't break this iceberg! Then out of the corner of my eye and almost like a message from the man upstairs himself was a pint of beer placed calmly on our table. The Irish drunk was back. Secretly laughing to myself I knew form that moment this was going to be a date to remember and for the remainder of our time in that pub we were bombarded with stories of this man's childhood. In fact I found out more about this man than I did about Mr. Carrots! We learnt that this drunk had a very, very large crush on me and kept telling me how beautiful I was - But before you all start asking me out, just remember he was drunk! He explained how his father was of Scottish descendants and owed a travelling funfair that him and his twin sister (who would 'beat the crap outta ya if ya tried anything') travelled around in as children. More detail was given about his twin sibling when he described in detail their ability to know what the other is speaking and communicate telepathically.
during the conversation with our new found friend the drunk would look into the blue eyes of Mr. Carrots and ask if he was 'starting' on him and if he 'had a problem' to which Mr. Carrots responded simply but nervously with no each and every time he was asked. Suddenly from no where he bellows out ''Carrots'' and me and my date look at each other in horror as we await an explanation. The residing drunk then argued with himself about why he kept thinking of carrots? ''Maybe I need to buy some?'' he said, to which the best reply in history came from my hum-drum date. "Maybe your twin sister is thinking of buying carrots and that is why you are thinking of carrots?!" He said jovially to our intoxicated third wheel. And there erupted my laughter for no longer could I hold it in; a mixture of pure and simple awkwardness with added dating failure made me burst out in a fit of chuckles.
It was just after this that I realised that me and Mr. Carrots were in a battle of who-will-finish-their-drink-first. I knew that if I didn't drink the last dreg's of my wine, we would both be forced to endure the constant back and fourth of conversation between a drunken old man and an already floundering first date. As soon as I put my glass down after gulping down the warming Rose, Mr. Carrots finished his and the Irish bum asked us if we wanted a fresh one. I didn't even give Mr. Carrots a chance to answer as I chipped in and mentioned that we had places to be and had to leave. Quicker than a Cheetah on speed we both left and headed to another bar on the other side of town where we sat for a short while continuing the in-and-out conversation. After that he constantly text me asking to meet up. He even gave me the pet name 'Carrot' - Not exactly come to bed is it?
I couldn't do it. I couldn't go on a second date with someone if it there was nothing there. So safe to say that life has somewhat mellowed out a bit since my encounter with Mr. Carrots but that doesn't mean it is no longer exciting. My date with Mr. Carrots, whilst not the best, was sadly not to be anything more than just a foot in the door. I am sure though that some day he will make some girl very happy and I genuinely wish him all the best, but unfortunately that girl is not me. Maybe I shall find someone soon? Maybe? But for now I am just enjoying life as it is; friends, family, work, social life and best of all I'm not lactose-intolerant!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Heartthrob. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heartthrob. Show all posts
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Friday Night In Frodsham ...
Evening All,
Finally in the UK we have some sunny weather and it is putting me in a better mood everyday. Waking up to the sun creeping through the window right till the moment I walk out of work into the warm breeze. Summer is defiantly not far away. But I am almost certain you don't want this edition to be about the weather, you want to know about my week; Including my weekend away with Miss Chocolate, don't you? Best not keep you waiting then ...
After a busy week and a gossipping Wednesday spent with Miss Chocolate and an old friend of ours, I reluctantly spent Thursday night in, praying that my night out with my hotel-buddy in the small village of near where we were staying wouldn't be a train crash. Instead of partying into the small hours and seeing some familiar faces I opted for a quiet night in from of the telly, regardless that I was up way past my bedtime. Friday morning, after booking the day off, I rolled over and snuggled in bed whilst I watched the sun through my window. Drifting in and out of sleep I awoke wondering what time it was and why my alarm hadn't woken me. Stumbling out of bed I went to my charging phone only to realise it was off. Shit! Have I slept in? Panicking I raced to the front bedroom where my parents had already left for work. No sign of Miss Chocolate's Car. 'She must have had some issues herself this morning' I thought. As I returned to my bedroom I realised that it was 9.30am and we should have left over an hour-and-a-half hours ago. Knowing that Miss Chocolate would be here any second I went into overdrive. Hearing my phone ring I answered. It was Miss Chocolate. She was outside. 'Ill be there in a sec' I fibbed. I wasn't even dressed yet. Throwing on some clothes, putting my hair up and brushed my teeth furiously I got ready in a matter of minutes and was downstairs with all my stuff. After piling it all into the car and punching in the directions to the hotel we were off along the motorway which for the time of day was pretty clear. Since I had turned my dying phone on I had received a number of nasty calls and messages from Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb after a pathetic argument the previous evening. The argument has still yet to be resolved, regardless of me apologising, but with my phone on a limited battery I decided to let the girls cool off over the weekend before I spoke to them. Plus it wasn't worth the effort and I wasn't going to ruin my weekend (or theirs) for the sake of some petty problem.
A few hours in and the journey was getting boring listening to the same songs on the mixed-tape CD I had made especially for the journey. I noticed a convoy of military trucks along side us on the busy motorway and so I took it upon myself to have a little fun. What with my Father being ex-military himself I know a little bit about what 'squaddies' are like. As we past the first truck I blew a kiss. Stunned looks and cheeky smiles replaced bored faces in both vehicles. The second was the same. A kiss and a smirk. The third I sent a wink and again was rewarded my a coy grin. getting excited I ramped up the tempo and on the last lorry full of combat's I blew a big kiss. However I was disappointed not to receive a reaction. The flirty mood had been damped. But not for long. Seconds later a beep. I looked out the passengers window to see the boys in green pull along side us in the car to blow me a saucy kiss and a wink back! As if our weekend couldn't get better, that had just made my day. After singing and seat-dancing our way across the country we arrived at the hotel and checked in with all our luggage. Miss Chocolate and I were allowed to go up to our room straight away and instantly flopped onto our beds as soon as we were there. Relaxing after our long journey we decided to plan the rest of our day. Miss Chocolate suggested a trip to a local supermarket to collect some munchies and alcohol for the night ahead. Once we had stocked up, Miss Chocolate instructed me to get changed into some gym kit so that she could but me through my paces at the onsite gym in the hotel. Following a near death experience with something called exercise in the gym I headed to the Spa. Sauna, Steam Room and then the Jacuzzi before splashing into an empty pool with Miss Chocolate.
Sauntering up to mine and Miss Chocolate's room in just a towel, we began to get ready and before we had time to start pre-drinking it was time to go. Doubting the legitimacy of this so-called nightclub we were going to I clambered into the car whilst Miss Chocolate took the wheel - She wasn't drinking and so thought it best to save money and drive there. But driving past the venue slowly, looking for parking I noticed that all the lights were off and only the restraunt next-door seemed to have anything going on. Worried I expressed my concerns to Miss Chocolate but she shrugged them off and said it was going to be a good night regardless of where we were. Walking through the glass doors of the nightclub I noticed a few people already there and having a good time. There was even a few on the light-up dance-floor. As Miss Chocolate and I headed for the bar I was stolen by a well-built Northerner in a red jumper. Clearly already out of his tree I decided to humour him and went for a boogie and when he went in for a sneaky snog I graciously declined the offer! We later found out he was on his stag-do and getting married in less than three-weeks ... Defiantly a keeper. Returning to a single Miss Chocolate at a nearby table I sat down and took the already mounting pressure of my feet. Heels might not have been the best idea tonight. As we chatted, Miss Chocolate and I realised that we were attracting some attention. I gathered it was that we were new to the 'scene' and Southerner's which made us very popular for the evening. It wasn't long before we were approached by a gentleman in a blue and white polka-dot jumper. Over the bass he explained how his friend over the other side of the dance-floor had noticed me! After clarifying with the strawberry blonde man that it was me that his friend was talking about, Mr. Dot asked me if I would allow his friend to buy me a drink. Taken aback a bit as to why someone would want t buy me a drink I agreed and being a friendly girl, and not one willing to turn down a freebie for nothing I went to meet this mystery drink-provider. To say that I was glad it was dark is an understatement but regardless it was nice to meet the guy whom I shall name as Mr. Vee. Why the alias Mr. Vee? Well, throughout the coming hours that I felt obliged to talk to him as he bought me a drink, Miss Chocolate and I realised that he was in fact a virgin. His friends, including Mr Dot started taking photos of me talking to him and texting each other saying that he had pulled. This was defiantly not the case.
After accepting another drink from Mr. Vee, he suggested we went outside to talk. 'If I'm not back in five minutes, start putting my face on milk cartons' I said in hushed tones to Miss Chocolate as Mr. Vee dragged me outside into the fresh night's air. Struggling to make small talk he resorted to fidgeting, obviously nervous about something. 'Can I kiss you' he suddenly blurted out. Thankfully before I got a chance to reply Mr. Dot and company arrived, chanting and hugging us both. Mr. Dot whispered something in my would-be kisser's ear and then swiftly departed. Taking my chance when I had it I went in search for Miss Chocolate back inside the warm nightclub. I found her where I had left her and we began to realise this might be a more interesting evening that I first thought. Miss Chocolate ad I were one of only a handful of women in the venue that night which made for alcohol-fuelled tension between men who were also there. Glad that I was back Miss Chocolate and I headed for the dance-floor to show these Northerners how its done. And boy did we show them! A few songs in and some outrageous dance moves later Mr. Dot reappears and begins to pester me to again allow his mate to buy me my third drink. Shouting over the music, I tried to explain that I just wasn't into him or Mr. Vee and that they needed to leave us alone. Clearly not taking the hint and desperate to get his friend laid, Mr. Dot approached and Miss Chocolate who told him right where to stick the offer. Giving in we approved the request and were left in peace for the rest of the evening by Mr. Vee and his generous ways. That is not to be said for Mr. Dot however and as the evening progressed I could see that Miss Chocolate was into him. Leaving them be I set off to find my own kill for the night.
Nicknamed 'The Sexy Southerners' by locals, Miss Chocolate and I danced and partied into the night. Whilst getting down to most of the song's on my home-made CD a fight suddenly broke out and as to be expected the police were called. Looking sadly at Miss Chocolate we knew that this was the end of the night as we had witnessed it a few times before back home. A fight breaks out, the police are called, the club shuts and everyone goes home sad. Well, apparently up north they do it differently and with a bloody and broken face the victim and the perpetrator were escorted away in a cop car. The music started up again and everyone trundled back inside the warmth. It didn't take us all long to get up to our old tricks again and sooner that expected Miss Chocolate and Mr.Dot were mouthing lyrics to anthems whilst I returned to my prowl. Spotting a new group to the dance foor I shuffled over smoothly and before I got a chance to 'accidently' bump into them a tall, handsome quiffed-Blondie tapped me on my shoulder and began to introduce me to his friends: A very tall male wearing a blue checked shirt and a very nice, broad gentleman with typical traits I look for in a potential catch. He had everything from the light stubble to the brown hair, the chocolate eyes, deep husky yet friendly voice and a gorgeous smile. Target Acquired!
Although Mr. Quiff had other ideas and tried to set me up with the last member of the group, Mr. Podge - Although Miss Chocolate likes to refer to him as Mr. Fat. Not liking the look of where this was going I steadily introduced Mr. Podge to Miss Chocolate and they hit it off immediately. Miss Chocolate could see where I was going with this and graciously took one for the team whilst I closed in on the others. Since I could locate Mr. Stubble I decided to try my luck with Mr. Quiff and after we got talking I learnt that he visits friends in Bedfordshire and is studying for a degree of some kind. The bar called however and alas, Mr. Quiff was gone. Not to worry I thought as cleverly Mr. Stubble was in charge of looking after me whilst Mr. Quiff was at the bar. Making conversation, Mr. Stubble asked me what I did as a career. First boob moment of the evening. Wanting to say my actual career path as a admin assistant, alcohol and the free-drinks of the evening took hold of my tongue. Apparently I now work as a 'Director of Distribution'. Not quiet the response both him or I thought we were getting. Ignoring my faux pas, we flowed to the thumping tunes but I started to wonder where Miss Chocolate was as I hadn't seen her in a while. Not wanting to leave my beloved Mr. Stubble but panicking that she had been abducted by Mr. Dot or worse, Mr. Podge! Grudgingly I left to go in search of my roommate. After searching outside, the bar, toilets, entrance and everywhere in between I finally found Miss Chocolate, safe and sound although dying from some boring story that Mr. Podge was telling her.
Hitting the dance floor for the last time we realised that it was nearly time to go. But not before I made a complete tit of myself. Glancing at Mr. Stubble and his wallet protruding from his jeans pocket and thinking it would be a good idea to have a last ditch attempt I said this. 'Is that your wallet or are you just pleased to see me?' Feeling myself burn red with embarrassment and not quiet believing what I had said, Mr. Stubble asked what I had said as he couldn't hear over the music. As if the first time was bad enough, I tried three more times before giving up. Note to self: Trying to woo the love of your life right next to the DJ booth is not a good idea. Miss Chocolate had a confession. Mr. Podge was planning to make-out with her at the end of the night and as with Mr. Vee hours earlier, he too had strangely asked her for a kiss. Even after returning home on Sunday, both Miss Chocolate and I are still left not understanding why all men up north had to ask for a kiss whilst men back home just dive right in and hope for the best. Maybe chivalry isn't dead after all? Together we hatched a plan that we would escape from Mr. Podge and his smooching, fleeing into the night when the lights came on. And that's what we did. When the lights went out and the music dyed down we grabbed each other by the hand and skipped towards the exit nearly getting caught up between the police and yet more young men fighting. Together we ran all the way to the car and back to our room where we continued our weekend in style.
In the days following our night out Miss Chocolate has longed for her Mr. Dot but has recently re-kindled an old flame to keep her happy. So, Shopping, Spa and relaxing were all part of our weekend but I think that both Miss Chocolate and I will struggle to forget our Friday night in Frodsham in a hurry!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
Finally in the UK we have some sunny weather and it is putting me in a better mood everyday. Waking up to the sun creeping through the window right till the moment I walk out of work into the warm breeze. Summer is defiantly not far away. But I am almost certain you don't want this edition to be about the weather, you want to know about my week; Including my weekend away with Miss Chocolate, don't you? Best not keep you waiting then ...
After a busy week and a gossipping Wednesday spent with Miss Chocolate and an old friend of ours, I reluctantly spent Thursday night in, praying that my night out with my hotel-buddy in the small village of near where we were staying wouldn't be a train crash. Instead of partying into the small hours and seeing some familiar faces I opted for a quiet night in from of the telly, regardless that I was up way past my bedtime. Friday morning, after booking the day off, I rolled over and snuggled in bed whilst I watched the sun through my window. Drifting in and out of sleep I awoke wondering what time it was and why my alarm hadn't woken me. Stumbling out of bed I went to my charging phone only to realise it was off. Shit! Have I slept in? Panicking I raced to the front bedroom where my parents had already left for work. No sign of Miss Chocolate's Car. 'She must have had some issues herself this morning' I thought. As I returned to my bedroom I realised that it was 9.30am and we should have left over an hour-and-a-half hours ago. Knowing that Miss Chocolate would be here any second I went into overdrive. Hearing my phone ring I answered. It was Miss Chocolate. She was outside. 'Ill be there in a sec' I fibbed. I wasn't even dressed yet. Throwing on some clothes, putting my hair up and brushed my teeth furiously I got ready in a matter of minutes and was downstairs with all my stuff. After piling it all into the car and punching in the directions to the hotel we were off along the motorway which for the time of day was pretty clear. Since I had turned my dying phone on I had received a number of nasty calls and messages from Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb after a pathetic argument the previous evening. The argument has still yet to be resolved, regardless of me apologising, but with my phone on a limited battery I decided to let the girls cool off over the weekend before I spoke to them. Plus it wasn't worth the effort and I wasn't going to ruin my weekend (or theirs) for the sake of some petty problem.
A few hours in and the journey was getting boring listening to the same songs on the mixed-tape CD I had made especially for the journey. I noticed a convoy of military trucks along side us on the busy motorway and so I took it upon myself to have a little fun. What with my Father being ex-military himself I know a little bit about what 'squaddies' are like. As we past the first truck I blew a kiss. Stunned looks and cheeky smiles replaced bored faces in both vehicles. The second was the same. A kiss and a smirk. The third I sent a wink and again was rewarded my a coy grin. getting excited I ramped up the tempo and on the last lorry full of combat's I blew a big kiss. However I was disappointed not to receive a reaction. The flirty mood had been damped. But not for long. Seconds later a beep. I looked out the passengers window to see the boys in green pull along side us in the car to blow me a saucy kiss and a wink back! As if our weekend couldn't get better, that had just made my day. After singing and seat-dancing our way across the country we arrived at the hotel and checked in with all our luggage. Miss Chocolate and I were allowed to go up to our room straight away and instantly flopped onto our beds as soon as we were there. Relaxing after our long journey we decided to plan the rest of our day. Miss Chocolate suggested a trip to a local supermarket to collect some munchies and alcohol for the night ahead. Once we had stocked up, Miss Chocolate instructed me to get changed into some gym kit so that she could but me through my paces at the onsite gym in the hotel. Following a near death experience with something called exercise in the gym I headed to the Spa. Sauna, Steam Room and then the Jacuzzi before splashing into an empty pool with Miss Chocolate.
Sauntering up to mine and Miss Chocolate's room in just a towel, we began to get ready and before we had time to start pre-drinking it was time to go. Doubting the legitimacy of this so-called nightclub we were going to I clambered into the car whilst Miss Chocolate took the wheel - She wasn't drinking and so thought it best to save money and drive there. But driving past the venue slowly, looking for parking I noticed that all the lights were off and only the restraunt next-door seemed to have anything going on. Worried I expressed my concerns to Miss Chocolate but she shrugged them off and said it was going to be a good night regardless of where we were. Walking through the glass doors of the nightclub I noticed a few people already there and having a good time. There was even a few on the light-up dance-floor. As Miss Chocolate and I headed for the bar I was stolen by a well-built Northerner in a red jumper. Clearly already out of his tree I decided to humour him and went for a boogie and when he went in for a sneaky snog I graciously declined the offer! We later found out he was on his stag-do and getting married in less than three-weeks ... Defiantly a keeper. Returning to a single Miss Chocolate at a nearby table I sat down and took the already mounting pressure of my feet. Heels might not have been the best idea tonight. As we chatted, Miss Chocolate and I realised that we were attracting some attention. I gathered it was that we were new to the 'scene' and Southerner's which made us very popular for the evening. It wasn't long before we were approached by a gentleman in a blue and white polka-dot jumper. Over the bass he explained how his friend over the other side of the dance-floor had noticed me! After clarifying with the strawberry blonde man that it was me that his friend was talking about, Mr. Dot asked me if I would allow his friend to buy me a drink. Taken aback a bit as to why someone would want t buy me a drink I agreed and being a friendly girl, and not one willing to turn down a freebie for nothing I went to meet this mystery drink-provider. To say that I was glad it was dark is an understatement but regardless it was nice to meet the guy whom I shall name as Mr. Vee. Why the alias Mr. Vee? Well, throughout the coming hours that I felt obliged to talk to him as he bought me a drink, Miss Chocolate and I realised that he was in fact a virgin. His friends, including Mr Dot started taking photos of me talking to him and texting each other saying that he had pulled. This was defiantly not the case.
After accepting another drink from Mr. Vee, he suggested we went outside to talk. 'If I'm not back in five minutes, start putting my face on milk cartons' I said in hushed tones to Miss Chocolate as Mr. Vee dragged me outside into the fresh night's air. Struggling to make small talk he resorted to fidgeting, obviously nervous about something. 'Can I kiss you' he suddenly blurted out. Thankfully before I got a chance to reply Mr. Dot and company arrived, chanting and hugging us both. Mr. Dot whispered something in my would-be kisser's ear and then swiftly departed. Taking my chance when I had it I went in search for Miss Chocolate back inside the warm nightclub. I found her where I had left her and we began to realise this might be a more interesting evening that I first thought. Miss Chocolate ad I were one of only a handful of women in the venue that night which made for alcohol-fuelled tension between men who were also there. Glad that I was back Miss Chocolate and I headed for the dance-floor to show these Northerners how its done. And boy did we show them! A few songs in and some outrageous dance moves later Mr. Dot reappears and begins to pester me to again allow his mate to buy me my third drink. Shouting over the music, I tried to explain that I just wasn't into him or Mr. Vee and that they needed to leave us alone. Clearly not taking the hint and desperate to get his friend laid, Mr. Dot approached and Miss Chocolate who told him right where to stick the offer. Giving in we approved the request and were left in peace for the rest of the evening by Mr. Vee and his generous ways. That is not to be said for Mr. Dot however and as the evening progressed I could see that Miss Chocolate was into him. Leaving them be I set off to find my own kill for the night.
Nicknamed 'The Sexy Southerners' by locals, Miss Chocolate and I danced and partied into the night. Whilst getting down to most of the song's on my home-made CD a fight suddenly broke out and as to be expected the police were called. Looking sadly at Miss Chocolate we knew that this was the end of the night as we had witnessed it a few times before back home. A fight breaks out, the police are called, the club shuts and everyone goes home sad. Well, apparently up north they do it differently and with a bloody and broken face the victim and the perpetrator were escorted away in a cop car. The music started up again and everyone trundled back inside the warmth. It didn't take us all long to get up to our old tricks again and sooner that expected Miss Chocolate and Mr.Dot were mouthing lyrics to anthems whilst I returned to my prowl. Spotting a new group to the dance foor I shuffled over smoothly and before I got a chance to 'accidently' bump into them a tall, handsome quiffed-Blondie tapped me on my shoulder and began to introduce me to his friends: A very tall male wearing a blue checked shirt and a very nice, broad gentleman with typical traits I look for in a potential catch. He had everything from the light stubble to the brown hair, the chocolate eyes, deep husky yet friendly voice and a gorgeous smile. Target Acquired!
Although Mr. Quiff had other ideas and tried to set me up with the last member of the group, Mr. Podge - Although Miss Chocolate likes to refer to him as Mr. Fat. Not liking the look of where this was going I steadily introduced Mr. Podge to Miss Chocolate and they hit it off immediately. Miss Chocolate could see where I was going with this and graciously took one for the team whilst I closed in on the others. Since I could locate Mr. Stubble I decided to try my luck with Mr. Quiff and after we got talking I learnt that he visits friends in Bedfordshire and is studying for a degree of some kind. The bar called however and alas, Mr. Quiff was gone. Not to worry I thought as cleverly Mr. Stubble was in charge of looking after me whilst Mr. Quiff was at the bar. Making conversation, Mr. Stubble asked me what I did as a career. First boob moment of the evening. Wanting to say my actual career path as a admin assistant, alcohol and the free-drinks of the evening took hold of my tongue. Apparently I now work as a 'Director of Distribution'. Not quiet the response both him or I thought we were getting. Ignoring my faux pas, we flowed to the thumping tunes but I started to wonder where Miss Chocolate was as I hadn't seen her in a while. Not wanting to leave my beloved Mr. Stubble but panicking that she had been abducted by Mr. Dot or worse, Mr. Podge! Grudgingly I left to go in search of my roommate. After searching outside, the bar, toilets, entrance and everywhere in between I finally found Miss Chocolate, safe and sound although dying from some boring story that Mr. Podge was telling her.
Hitting the dance floor for the last time we realised that it was nearly time to go. But not before I made a complete tit of myself. Glancing at Mr. Stubble and his wallet protruding from his jeans pocket and thinking it would be a good idea to have a last ditch attempt I said this. 'Is that your wallet or are you just pleased to see me?' Feeling myself burn red with embarrassment and not quiet believing what I had said, Mr. Stubble asked what I had said as he couldn't hear over the music. As if the first time was bad enough, I tried three more times before giving up. Note to self: Trying to woo the love of your life right next to the DJ booth is not a good idea. Miss Chocolate had a confession. Mr. Podge was planning to make-out with her at the end of the night and as with Mr. Vee hours earlier, he too had strangely asked her for a kiss. Even after returning home on Sunday, both Miss Chocolate and I are still left not understanding why all men up north had to ask for a kiss whilst men back home just dive right in and hope for the best. Maybe chivalry isn't dead after all? Together we hatched a plan that we would escape from Mr. Podge and his smooching, fleeing into the night when the lights came on. And that's what we did. When the lights went out and the music dyed down we grabbed each other by the hand and skipped towards the exit nearly getting caught up between the police and yet more young men fighting. Together we ran all the way to the car and back to our room where we continued our weekend in style.
In the days following our night out Miss Chocolate has longed for her Mr. Dot but has recently re-kindled an old flame to keep her happy. So, Shopping, Spa and relaxing were all part of our weekend but I think that both Miss Chocolate and I will struggle to forget our Friday night in Frodsham in a hurry!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou :) xx
Tuesday, 19 March 2013
Teenage Kicks
Hello,
Now as I explained in my last post, I had been invited somewhere important. At the time I couldn't divulge much more as other attendees are avid followers and would have foiled my plan. So, a few weeks ago I got talking to an old school friend of mine who also happens to be in a band with and close friend of Mr. Coffee's - I know, I know; Just bear with me on this one. So after we had done away with small talk I started discussing booking him and the band for a charity fundraiser event I am planning on hosting in the coming months. He agreed and I said that I would get back to him with some of the details. Anyway, I heard nothing from him until I had a social-networking invitation to an event where by his band was playing ... along with none other than Mr. Coffee himself. In a flap I immediately messaged Miss Chocolate, knowing that she would probably not give me a lecture about 'going back to old flames' as much as Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb would. And so a plan was conceived that Miss Chocolate and I would go on a bar crawl for St. Patricks Day, which would just happen to end up at the same location as the gig and at precisely the right time. All week, cunningly planning and plotting what to wear and how to have my hair, thinking up a good alibi and what to say. Now this would not have been such a big deal had it not bee for the earlier incident of bailing on me, (See post 'Time to Say I Told You So ... ') but regardless as the week flew by yet again, Saturday night loomed ever closer.
After waking up at sparrow's fart to go shopping with Papa and spending all day pampering myself into oblivion I was finally ready. Strangely Papa dropped me to the station and was concerned about how I was getting home, who I was going out with and all the other things a parent worries about. I do love him sometimes, but on this occasion I think he knew I was up to something and was just digging around for the scoop! As I sat on the train gulping down Orange Juice and Vodka it took me back to my teens and reminded me that there has never really been a point in life where I haven't been obsessed or fixated with something or someone, usually multiples of different things at the same time. And Saturday night was no different. Although, reading this back in my head does make me look a tad infatuated and preoccupied by Mr. Coffee and his participation in the evening. I'm not. To clarify, I am merely interested in pursuing him further. I would, after my resent encounters with Mr. Coffee, like to confront the coward and ask him what the hell he was playing at and how he feels about me. Well I got my chance didn't I ...
After arriving in town and heading pretty much straight to pub in which Mr. Coffee and his band were playing, Miss Chocolate and I settled into the bar stools to have a drink. However, Miss Chocolate is more of the clubbing and pubbing type, not usually accustomed to loud rock music in a small, stuffy pub. Regardless of those factors she embraced it with every bit of muster the girl had and towards the end of the session, I even caught her singing along and dancing with the best of us. I am proud to say that I broke her gig-virginity! As we were sitting at the bar having a chat, I was tapped on the shoulder by another old school friend who just happens to also be Mr. Coffee's best friend and fellow band-mate. I introduced him to Miss Chocolate and asked why he was hear, fully knowing the answer before I even asked it. He explained that he was here with 'the band' and that they were scheduled for 9pm. After a few tid-bits of small talk he left. Miss Chocolate and I mooched around for a bit, having a cigarette, complaining about the wet and 'inappropriate' rain before my shoulder was yet again disturbed by an important person. Mr. Coffee! So it seems that after bumping into most of his band-mates, a few mutual friends and his step-dad, Mr. Coffee had came over to say hello. But I had more for him than hello! I was fully ready to turn around and give him a big piece of my mind, but as I turned to greet him all hope of controlling the hormonal teenager in me dried up. Deep brown eyes, dark floppy hair and a smile that I needed my RayBan's for. Even better looking that I remembered I tried to compose myself and we started the standard conversation. My alibi worked a treat but there was still an elephant in the room to confront.
"Why didn't you turn up?" I asked as Mr. Coffee's face went cold and fearful. He knew what he was in for. "I'm so sorry. I was scared and panicked. I just thought that you wanted something more than I was willing to offer you. I really am so sorry. You must think I am a dick?" was his reply. I was fuming, yet still on cloud nine. Odd feeling that - Wanting to throw your drink on someone but knowing that if you do your just going to add to their sexual-appeal. Mr. Coffee shuffled from foot to foot for a while just repeating himself over and over, apologising constantly. I had told him in the past that I didn't want anything serious like the last train wreck of a relationship, but just wanted some fun and to share the coming summer with and I felt that I needed to reassure him of this again. The conversation of a NSA relationship came into the chat's limelight only to be stamped on by his band being called up. "Will you stay?" Mr. Coffee asked, pleading me to stay. "You know I have always wanted you to see me play with the guys." I turned to Miss Chocolate and her face said it all. I had to compose myself and become hard and cold - Show him whose boss and that I am still upset with him. "Mmm, I don't know, my friend wants to head on to a nightclub now so I don't know, I might." I replied as my legs resumed from their jelly-like state. After accepting this, Mr. Coffee turned to walk away, tail between legs.
As Mr. Coffee began to play I took a prime position in the already large crowd and for the next half hour I was propelled back to being fifteen again, admiring a band I knew well, shaking my hair and singing to what words I knew. I concentrated hard as I watched Mr. Coffee's eyes frantically search the crowd for my face, not knowing weather I stayed to watch or not. After a few songs I caught his eye and Mr. Coffee sent me a wink which nearly killed me. I felt like I was in the front row at a Elvis Concert. If I wasn't ready to blow before - I sure as hell was now! Annoyingly though there was a young Polish man standing behind me and throughout the whole set he was trying to kiss me and talk to me. I just smiled as I couldn't fully understanding a word he was saying, given the noise and language barrier. Looking back now my intoxicated state he looked like a blonde lab rat and, and as I couldn't hear him I just continued to smile which only seemed to cement in his head that I was his for the evening. At one point I think he even asked "If I buy drink for you, you come home with me, yes?" and in a flap I promptly pointed to the tall, dark and handsome musician onstage and said that I was dating Mr. Coffee. Instantly his hands flew up in the air and he apologised, however, knowing that Mr. Coffee was already struggling to see me, I decided to play and flirted with the foreigner, hoping that Mr. Coffee would see and sweep me off my feet, saving me from this manic stranger.
Once the band stopped playing I got ready to leave, but not before Miss Chocolate had something to do with it. As Mr. Coffee stepped off stage I was pushed forward into his arms. After I had composed myself and stepped out of his bubble the flood gates opened and I gushed about how much I enjoyed his performance. We stood around for ages nattering before I got the eye from Miss Chocolate, indicating that it was time to leave. I explained to Mr. Coffee that I have to go and asked him several times to come along to the nightclub and continue the party, but lack of finances gave that idea the boot. Reluctantly I bid farewell and turned to leave. But then I remembered a task I had been asked to do earlier on in the evening by my drinking buddy. I turned back to the hot musician. "My friend says that were not leaving until we kiss and make up" I said boldly to which Mr. Coffee replied with some lame excuse that he would never be able to live it down in front of his friends and step-dad who were just on the table next to us. As I pulled away from a hug our eyes met, earthy brown matched with sea green. But just as I was about to turn and leave Mr. Coffee pulled me in close for a quick kiss on the lips. Sneaky, cheeky and throwing all inhibitions to the wind! I loved it. Following a swap in numbers I skipped out of the pub with his lips still burning on mine.
So where are we now. Well after gaining advise from the all power love-goddess that is Miss Chocolate I am being told to play it cool and text him mid-week which is tomorrow, so I shall keep you all posted on this as it unravels but I'm not hold my breath, especially after last time! But it wasn't just me who got lucky on Saturday night, Oh no! The luck of the Irish stuck Miss Chocolate when she met up with a guy she had met online. Safe to say that his profile picture was probably Catfished from a search engine!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Now as I explained in my last post, I had been invited somewhere important. At the time I couldn't divulge much more as other attendees are avid followers and would have foiled my plan. So, a few weeks ago I got talking to an old school friend of mine who also happens to be in a band with and close friend of Mr. Coffee's - I know, I know; Just bear with me on this one. So after we had done away with small talk I started discussing booking him and the band for a charity fundraiser event I am planning on hosting in the coming months. He agreed and I said that I would get back to him with some of the details. Anyway, I heard nothing from him until I had a social-networking invitation to an event where by his band was playing ... along with none other than Mr. Coffee himself. In a flap I immediately messaged Miss Chocolate, knowing that she would probably not give me a lecture about 'going back to old flames' as much as Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb would. And so a plan was conceived that Miss Chocolate and I would go on a bar crawl for St. Patricks Day, which would just happen to end up at the same location as the gig and at precisely the right time. All week, cunningly planning and plotting what to wear and how to have my hair, thinking up a good alibi and what to say. Now this would not have been such a big deal had it not bee for the earlier incident of bailing on me, (See post 'Time to Say I Told You So ... ') but regardless as the week flew by yet again, Saturday night loomed ever closer.
After waking up at sparrow's fart to go shopping with Papa and spending all day pampering myself into oblivion I was finally ready. Strangely Papa dropped me to the station and was concerned about how I was getting home, who I was going out with and all the other things a parent worries about. I do love him sometimes, but on this occasion I think he knew I was up to something and was just digging around for the scoop! As I sat on the train gulping down Orange Juice and Vodka it took me back to my teens and reminded me that there has never really been a point in life where I haven't been obsessed or fixated with something or someone, usually multiples of different things at the same time. And Saturday night was no different. Although, reading this back in my head does make me look a tad infatuated and preoccupied by Mr. Coffee and his participation in the evening. I'm not. To clarify, I am merely interested in pursuing him further. I would, after my resent encounters with Mr. Coffee, like to confront the coward and ask him what the hell he was playing at and how he feels about me. Well I got my chance didn't I ...
After arriving in town and heading pretty much straight to pub in which Mr. Coffee and his band were playing, Miss Chocolate and I settled into the bar stools to have a drink. However, Miss Chocolate is more of the clubbing and pubbing type, not usually accustomed to loud rock music in a small, stuffy pub. Regardless of those factors she embraced it with every bit of muster the girl had and towards the end of the session, I even caught her singing along and dancing with the best of us. I am proud to say that I broke her gig-virginity! As we were sitting at the bar having a chat, I was tapped on the shoulder by another old school friend who just happens to also be Mr. Coffee's best friend and fellow band-mate. I introduced him to Miss Chocolate and asked why he was hear, fully knowing the answer before I even asked it. He explained that he was here with 'the band' and that they were scheduled for 9pm. After a few tid-bits of small talk he left. Miss Chocolate and I mooched around for a bit, having a cigarette, complaining about the wet and 'inappropriate' rain before my shoulder was yet again disturbed by an important person. Mr. Coffee! So it seems that after bumping into most of his band-mates, a few mutual friends and his step-dad, Mr. Coffee had came over to say hello. But I had more for him than hello! I was fully ready to turn around and give him a big piece of my mind, but as I turned to greet him all hope of controlling the hormonal teenager in me dried up. Deep brown eyes, dark floppy hair and a smile that I needed my RayBan's for. Even better looking that I remembered I tried to compose myself and we started the standard conversation. My alibi worked a treat but there was still an elephant in the room to confront.
"Why didn't you turn up?" I asked as Mr. Coffee's face went cold and fearful. He knew what he was in for. "I'm so sorry. I was scared and panicked. I just thought that you wanted something more than I was willing to offer you. I really am so sorry. You must think I am a dick?" was his reply. I was fuming, yet still on cloud nine. Odd feeling that - Wanting to throw your drink on someone but knowing that if you do your just going to add to their sexual-appeal. Mr. Coffee shuffled from foot to foot for a while just repeating himself over and over, apologising constantly. I had told him in the past that I didn't want anything serious like the last train wreck of a relationship, but just wanted some fun and to share the coming summer with and I felt that I needed to reassure him of this again. The conversation of a NSA relationship came into the chat's limelight only to be stamped on by his band being called up. "Will you stay?" Mr. Coffee asked, pleading me to stay. "You know I have always wanted you to see me play with the guys." I turned to Miss Chocolate and her face said it all. I had to compose myself and become hard and cold - Show him whose boss and that I am still upset with him. "Mmm, I don't know, my friend wants to head on to a nightclub now so I don't know, I might." I replied as my legs resumed from their jelly-like state. After accepting this, Mr. Coffee turned to walk away, tail between legs.
As Mr. Coffee began to play I took a prime position in the already large crowd and for the next half hour I was propelled back to being fifteen again, admiring a band I knew well, shaking my hair and singing to what words I knew. I concentrated hard as I watched Mr. Coffee's eyes frantically search the crowd for my face, not knowing weather I stayed to watch or not. After a few songs I caught his eye and Mr. Coffee sent me a wink which nearly killed me. I felt like I was in the front row at a Elvis Concert. If I wasn't ready to blow before - I sure as hell was now! Annoyingly though there was a young Polish man standing behind me and throughout the whole set he was trying to kiss me and talk to me. I just smiled as I couldn't fully understanding a word he was saying, given the noise and language barrier. Looking back now my intoxicated state he looked like a blonde lab rat and, and as I couldn't hear him I just continued to smile which only seemed to cement in his head that I was his for the evening. At one point I think he even asked "If I buy drink for you, you come home with me, yes?" and in a flap I promptly pointed to the tall, dark and handsome musician onstage and said that I was dating Mr. Coffee. Instantly his hands flew up in the air and he apologised, however, knowing that Mr. Coffee was already struggling to see me, I decided to play and flirted with the foreigner, hoping that Mr. Coffee would see and sweep me off my feet, saving me from this manic stranger.
Once the band stopped playing I got ready to leave, but not before Miss Chocolate had something to do with it. As Mr. Coffee stepped off stage I was pushed forward into his arms. After I had composed myself and stepped out of his bubble the flood gates opened and I gushed about how much I enjoyed his performance. We stood around for ages nattering before I got the eye from Miss Chocolate, indicating that it was time to leave. I explained to Mr. Coffee that I have to go and asked him several times to come along to the nightclub and continue the party, but lack of finances gave that idea the boot. Reluctantly I bid farewell and turned to leave. But then I remembered a task I had been asked to do earlier on in the evening by my drinking buddy. I turned back to the hot musician. "My friend says that were not leaving until we kiss and make up" I said boldly to which Mr. Coffee replied with some lame excuse that he would never be able to live it down in front of his friends and step-dad who were just on the table next to us. As I pulled away from a hug our eyes met, earthy brown matched with sea green. But just as I was about to turn and leave Mr. Coffee pulled me in close for a quick kiss on the lips. Sneaky, cheeky and throwing all inhibitions to the wind! I loved it. Following a swap in numbers I skipped out of the pub with his lips still burning on mine.
So where are we now. Well after gaining advise from the all power love-goddess that is Miss Chocolate I am being told to play it cool and text him mid-week which is tomorrow, so I shall keep you all posted on this as it unravels but I'm not hold my breath, especially after last time! But it wasn't just me who got lucky on Saturday night, Oh no! The luck of the Irish stuck Miss Chocolate when she met up with a guy she had met online. Safe to say that his profile picture was probably Catfished from a search engine!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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