Hello All,
Bloggers Note: This post has been changed as per Wednesday 15th May 2013 as a result of some advice given to me regarding
subject matter. Don't worry I am sure I will update your more at a later date :) - - - Love A.Lou xx
After an explosive edition last week with views of Trials and Tribulations (of a 20-Something) rocketing to over a thousand last week I would again like to say a big thank-you and that it is very uplifting to come home from a hard days work to see that people still care, so thanks guys!
Now, where do I begin on the week I have just had? It started normally, and included an evening sifting through my e-mails deciphering crap from keep. I came across an e-mail from a website looking for people to join in with a new show. After pondering on it for a few days and a deep conversation with Mom I decided to just apply. Attaching some photos and clicking send I never thought it would go very far. Thursday evening after going swimming with Miss Chocolate and as we were about to go into my local for something to eat, I get a call. I answer. Its the production company asking me some questions regarding my application. Sitting in the car while it poured with rain outside I answered honestly and truthfully to the questions asked of my life in general. Ten minutes later, the young female voice asked if I was free Saturday afternoon to come down to London for a casting. And so a plan was set in place that I would go to the city for a casting that following weekend. Munching down on dinner Miss Chocolate and I giggle and chatted about what it would be like and weather anything would every come of it at all.
Saturday rolled around as soon as anything and as I started to prepare for my journey I had a call from Miss Tweedle-Dee, stating that she was going with me and to meet her at the station. Once I was ready I blagged a lift with a concerned father to the train station and waiting in the car until the train came, explaining to my Dad that everything would be OK and I would keep safe and all the rest of reassuring you have to do when your off to the Capital. Stepping out into the cold and wet from the car was not pleasant and I soon realised that the hours I had spent on my hair, prettying it, was a waste of time. Meeting up with Miss Tweedle-Dee we headed to the big lights of London and headed straight to the infamous Oxford Street to purchase some bargain buys before hopping on the tube again. Coming out of London's St. Pancreas/Kings Cross Station Miss Tweedle-Dee and I headed for cover as we unsuccessfully dodged the wet weather. Wisely we agreed to split up and that I would go to the casting whilst Miss Tweedle-Dee waiting in a nearby coffee shop. As I started to walk down the long city street I began to realised that this might not be such a good idea. I was soaked right through, my wet, pink shirt clung to my body, my hair was a mess and my make-up made me look like a soggy panda. Was this really going to go anywhere? They would take one look at me and just say "Go away, you are ridiculous!" Although as I thought this I still continued walking and it wasn't before long that I could see the building in question I needed to be.
Walking into the building I was greeted by a young receptionist and after a brief conversion involving a short, blonde, middle-aged women we were directed to the bathrooms to freshen up. Upon arrival at said bathroom I noticed that the hair I had spent the previous evening and this morning trying to perfect my locks was all in vain - This mop was going up in a chic, messy bun. The make-up was also adjusted before tackling the sodden blouse. Seeing that the hand dryer was a modern, stick-your-hands-in-and-blow-off-your-skin kind of machine made me pause for a second. How would I dry my shirt? The only way I knew how to I thought. Sweeping my arms through, bingo-wings included I dried my sleeves well. Now it was for the rest. As I squatted in front of this contraption pulling my shirt inside and waving frantically to keep the blowers going I wondered how silly I looked to the middle-aged, blonde lady in the bathroom with me. Shyly she struck up conversation and I could tell instantly she was a nervous wreck. Try to put her at ease I calmed her thoughts that the room was going to be filled with skinny, blonde, busty women looking for love. On the contrary I was thinking that the room would be stuffed with older females, looking for someone they (and their ten cats) can spend the rest of their days with. Well we didn't have long to wait as we walked into an office where we were given some forms to fill out. Trying to make small talk we discussed our lives previous and I discovered that she too came from the Home Counties surrounding London, fancied members of a well-known boy band and was previously married but in her words 'divorced that good for nothing lay-about'.
As I was scribbling down my details and reading through the terms and conditions a tall, handsome man walked in with brown hair and deep chocolate eyes. Just my type of man. Only thing is he was wearing a blue and white checked shirt, the kind that Mr. Workaholic used to wear to work. Great I thought. I'm now about to be interviewed by my Ex's Doppelganger! Walking into the lift he asked if I had ever done anything like this before as I was very calm and relaxed compared to others he had seen throughout the day. I said how I was used to camera's and the 'acting/fliming' environment as I studied media production and theory at college. As the lift reached the its destination he explained the process of the next few moments. Sitting down I started to tell my story. All of the questions were similar to the application and the phone call I had on Thursday evening so nothing to nerve-shattering. Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome asked about my parents and their relationship. Now this was a difficult one to try and skirt around. If you hadn't already known, my parents split when I was just seventeen and one day but the legal proceedings have only just been sorted out. When I say 'Parents' now (in my blog) I refer then to my Dad and his partner. My mother? Ahh, see that is another one. A whole different story in a whole different library! The long and the short of it was that I wanted to maintain a relationship with my father after he was asked to leave the family home and this was something that my mother detested; so much so after a couple of months she chucked me out on the streets and told me to go live with my Father which was impossible since he was living at my grandparents. Luckily my uncle took me in until I moved in by myself, but I haven't spoken to my mother properly since. I call Dad's partner Mom just to make things easier to understand, although I would say it to her face.
I explained my life as it is and described some of the things I enjoy doing and had been through in my 20-something years of being on this earth. I skimmed over the 'thing' I had with Mr. Coffee as in all honesty it wasn't much to brag about. But when it came to talking bout Mr.Workaholic, suddenly I became alone in the room. Just me. And as I opened up about the day Mr.Workaholic came home to tell me he no longer wanted to be with me. It was so raw and fresh at the same time that I felt naked and exposed for the first time in many months. Talking about it in such a bare way made it all seem so real and like it had only happened yesterday. I didn't cry, but it could have easily turned into that if I had carried on. The subject of children and the white picket fence came up and I admitted that I wanted it all, just not right now. I said how I wanted to have fun first and experience life before settling down. After calling it a wrap, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome and his female colleague remarked on how mature and wise I was for my age and how such a young, vibrant, bubbly person can have endured so much in such a short amount of time. I knew that they weren't just talking of relationships but also the fact that my own mother threw me out at just seventeen. I was used to it though, everyone seems to feel sorry for me, I don't know why?
Taking the trusty lift downstairs again and walking back to the office, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome said again how cool and collected I was and made clear the next steps in the process. Filling out yet more paperwork and reading a heavy contract I listened to the other women chattering on about lives outside of this building. Most of them I could tell were from London just by their accent and how they spoke. 'Ive been travelling for nine years around Romanian, Russia, France and the Middle East' and 'I went there on my gap year actually' were a few of the phrases throw around by the socialites whilst I tried to read through the extensive pages of boring contract. Finally signing and handing back my papers I waited in the room of city dwellers and there I listened more to a middle-aged women discussing how her boisterous and confident attitude didn't bode well with men and thus the lack of relationships. Once I was cleared to go I thought nothing more of heading straight out the door and back to the coffee shop where Miss Tweedle-Dee was waiting for me.
Skipping down the wet high street I savoured the sights of the city; the tall buildings, grey pavements and loud noises made me grateful of my quiet suburbia back home with Mom and Dad. Arriving at the coffee shop I found a rather tired Miss Tweedle-Dee watching TV on her smart-phone and texting friends. "Before you start, if you want a drink you should get one now" she said. After dithering for a few seconds I went to get something to drink. As I approached the back of the queue I saw a friendly face. Is that who I think it is? It was! It was two very famous members of a English boy-band whose name sounds like McSky. I was very happy and thought about asking for a photo but figured since one of them had their hood up indoors and they were dressed casually that they were attempting an incognito snack break. After rushing back to Miss Tweedle-Dee and announcing my findings of their order I raced back to gawp at them some more. Once they had left I placed my order and once seated safely at my table with Miss Tweedle-Dee beside me I told my tale.
After slurping down our beverages Miss Tweedle-Dee and I headed back to the tubes for some last minute shopping and sightseeing, winding up at Marble Arch next to Hyde Park for some dinner. I enjoyed our little trip and whilst nothing may never come of the casting specifically, it was a nice experience and one I can share with you all. Maybe this is a step in the right direction for me as far as dating goes? Mind you I better not be settling down too soon I have mine and Miss Chocolate's romantic weekend away coming up soon so hold on tight for some more prowling nights out.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Prowl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prowl. Show all posts
Tuesday, 14 May 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, 2 April 2013
I Love Bank Holiday's!
Hello,
Happy Easter everyone! I hope you all had a good bank holiday - if you get one that is. Here in the UK we got a four day weekend stretching from Friday to Monday. And after the way I ended the last edition I should probably explain what I actually got up to. Well for the most part the weather held out, and by that I mean it didn't rain. It did snow several times, the most inconvenient was when I was walking from the station to my cousin's birthday party. Note to self: Walking across a muddy field with sheepskin boots on and trying to look sexy in front of footballers is not a good look when you have the arctic flying into you at forty-miles an hour. But aside from the weather everything else went swimmingly. Apart from a minor dispute however with Miss Chocolate which I shall not go into as I would get so angry you could fry an egg on my face. It has not yet been fully resolved I think but things like this will need time to grow again. Fingers crossed we'll be OK soon though, I need someone who wont disapprove of my Harlequin ways when were out. I had a free house to myself the weekend as Ma and Pa went away for a dirty weekend in a Caravan. 'If the caravan's rocking, don't come knocking' is there cringe moto - I don't think there is anything less sexually appealing than thinking that people over the age of 45 ''do-it'' *Sick face and vomit noise*
Thursday night after work I had Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee come round and we vegged out watching telly and eating pizza. After Miss Tweedle-Dumb had left to visit her boyfriend, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I decided to hit the sack. That was until we realised we couldn't lock the front door as I had misplaced my house keys somewhere in the lounge. I knew they were there as I had let myself and the girls in and after locking the door behind us, put them down somewhere. We had been looking constantly for several hours now and in the small hours of Friday morning I called it a night, pushed all the furniture back to its rightful place and wedged a coffee table behind the front door. This did not however stop Miss Tweedle-Dee from making up tales of how we would be raped and shot in the night by intruders to which I brushed off despite thinking the very same thing the previous night when the door had been locked and my Father in the room adjacent. Morning broke through the window as we both squinted at one another. lying in bed together with morning breath and hair all over the place like an old married couple. I investigated downstairs and promptly returned to infirm my bed-partner that there was no intruders in the night and if there were then they were very sneaky to get out again putting everything back right as I left it. Once up and dressed we started to plan our day when Miss Tweedle-Dumb called with some spooky news. "I have found your keys" she says excitedly but nervously holding back more information. After probing she continued. "They were in the back of my car, neatly placed on the floor behind where you were sitting" she said. Gobsmacked I started to well up with joy and horror. Who could have put them there? We didn't go back into the car once we were in the house? Did the invisible elderly lady who lives with me do it as she has done with many other things before? We may never know.
Later on we left for some shopping near London with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and some other friends of ours. As usual the day ended with lunch in our favourite pub, gossipping over men and other idiosyncrasies as well as our ghostly encounter the previous night. Throughout Saturday morning before I went out to spend the day with family, I rearranged the house to accommodate my friends who were coming to mine for pre-drinks before Saturdays big 80's V 90's headphone-disco night out. The table was laid out with a roulette shot's game, a game of naughty charades was nearby. Alcohol, mixers and chocolate was covering the counters in the kitchen. An airbed had been arranged (but not blown up due to the lack of batteries I had working) and make-up, hair and dressing stations had been assigned in the lounge. Everyone was due to arrive at 7pm. Well, 7pm came and went, so did 7.30pm and 8pm. Finally at quarter-to-nine they arrived. Miss Tweedle-Dumb's car had broken down and there was issues trying to find parts to fix it. Regardless they were here and we started to get ready, dance, drink and play games. Lets just say you don't know your friends until you play a round or two of 'never have I ever' with them.
Calling a cab to town we darted around looking for money, phone and most of all keys! Jumping in the cab I think I was the only one to carry on drinking and also to strike up conversation with the fellow that was driving us towards a night of madness and mayhem. Once inside the alternative-club the headphones went on and the inhibitions came off. I spent the night howling away to cheesy pop classics from our childhood and dancing the moves that matched them. At one point I found myself "lost" and coincidentally made friends with a very nice chap who showed me how he dances - with his tongue. As in kissing - nothing else, god, I'm not that much of a floozy! Then before I knew it, somehow I was on the floor in a heap with my arms and legs flailing around like an upside down beetle looking for help. Thankfully this young man whose face was somewhat blurred by the amount of alcohol I had exceeded picked me up and just continued where he left off. I must have got bored as I just left and went to go and find the others without even saying goodbye. Rude I know - but I'm blaming it on the alcohol. That night we all returned home where apparently there was an argument over ordering a take-away of which I was in the middle of completely KO on the lounge floor. I woke the following morning on the flattened airbed on my bedroom floor after being kicked from my drunken slumber by Miss Tweedle-Dumb as she made her way to the bathroom.
Sunday I spent mostly recovering form a hangover that I had didn't anticipate. I never get hangovers. Why was Sunday the day to start?! Fully-recovered Monday was spent in my home-town wondering around boutiques and being chatted up by weirdo-couple's trying to stroke me. Strangely though, after the weekend that I have had I have not made any pounces on the male variety and for once in a very, very long time I am not lusting or longing for anyone. I suppose this is what its like to be single then, but hopefully not forever. Out on the prowl soon I hope.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Happy Easter everyone! I hope you all had a good bank holiday - if you get one that is. Here in the UK we got a four day weekend stretching from Friday to Monday. And after the way I ended the last edition I should probably explain what I actually got up to. Well for the most part the weather held out, and by that I mean it didn't rain. It did snow several times, the most inconvenient was when I was walking from the station to my cousin's birthday party. Note to self: Walking across a muddy field with sheepskin boots on and trying to look sexy in front of footballers is not a good look when you have the arctic flying into you at forty-miles an hour. But aside from the weather everything else went swimmingly. Apart from a minor dispute however with Miss Chocolate which I shall not go into as I would get so angry you could fry an egg on my face. It has not yet been fully resolved I think but things like this will need time to grow again. Fingers crossed we'll be OK soon though, I need someone who wont disapprove of my Harlequin ways when were out. I had a free house to myself the weekend as Ma and Pa went away for a dirty weekend in a Caravan. 'If the caravan's rocking, don't come knocking' is there cringe moto - I don't think there is anything less sexually appealing than thinking that people over the age of 45 ''do-it'' *Sick face and vomit noise*
Thursday night after work I had Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee come round and we vegged out watching telly and eating pizza. After Miss Tweedle-Dumb had left to visit her boyfriend, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I decided to hit the sack. That was until we realised we couldn't lock the front door as I had misplaced my house keys somewhere in the lounge. I knew they were there as I had let myself and the girls in and after locking the door behind us, put them down somewhere. We had been looking constantly for several hours now and in the small hours of Friday morning I called it a night, pushed all the furniture back to its rightful place and wedged a coffee table behind the front door. This did not however stop Miss Tweedle-Dee from making up tales of how we would be raped and shot in the night by intruders to which I brushed off despite thinking the very same thing the previous night when the door had been locked and my Father in the room adjacent. Morning broke through the window as we both squinted at one another. lying in bed together with morning breath and hair all over the place like an old married couple. I investigated downstairs and promptly returned to infirm my bed-partner that there was no intruders in the night and if there were then they were very sneaky to get out again putting everything back right as I left it. Once up and dressed we started to plan our day when Miss Tweedle-Dumb called with some spooky news. "I have found your keys" she says excitedly but nervously holding back more information. After probing she continued. "They were in the back of my car, neatly placed on the floor behind where you were sitting" she said. Gobsmacked I started to well up with joy and horror. Who could have put them there? We didn't go back into the car once we were in the house? Did the invisible elderly lady who lives with me do it as she has done with many other things before? We may never know.
Later on we left for some shopping near London with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and some other friends of ours. As usual the day ended with lunch in our favourite pub, gossipping over men and other idiosyncrasies as well as our ghostly encounter the previous night. Throughout Saturday morning before I went out to spend the day with family, I rearranged the house to accommodate my friends who were coming to mine for pre-drinks before Saturdays big 80's V 90's headphone-disco night out. The table was laid out with a roulette shot's game, a game of naughty charades was nearby. Alcohol, mixers and chocolate was covering the counters in the kitchen. An airbed had been arranged (but not blown up due to the lack of batteries I had working) and make-up, hair and dressing stations had been assigned in the lounge. Everyone was due to arrive at 7pm. Well, 7pm came and went, so did 7.30pm and 8pm. Finally at quarter-to-nine they arrived. Miss Tweedle-Dumb's car had broken down and there was issues trying to find parts to fix it. Regardless they were here and we started to get ready, dance, drink and play games. Lets just say you don't know your friends until you play a round or two of 'never have I ever' with them.
Calling a cab to town we darted around looking for money, phone and most of all keys! Jumping in the cab I think I was the only one to carry on drinking and also to strike up conversation with the fellow that was driving us towards a night of madness and mayhem. Once inside the alternative-club the headphones went on and the inhibitions came off. I spent the night howling away to cheesy pop classics from our childhood and dancing the moves that matched them. At one point I found myself "lost" and coincidentally made friends with a very nice chap who showed me how he dances - with his tongue. As in kissing - nothing else, god, I'm not that much of a floozy! Then before I knew it, somehow I was on the floor in a heap with my arms and legs flailing around like an upside down beetle looking for help. Thankfully this young man whose face was somewhat blurred by the amount of alcohol I had exceeded picked me up and just continued where he left off. I must have got bored as I just left and went to go and find the others without even saying goodbye. Rude I know - but I'm blaming it on the alcohol. That night we all returned home where apparently there was an argument over ordering a take-away of which I was in the middle of completely KO on the lounge floor. I woke the following morning on the flattened airbed on my bedroom floor after being kicked from my drunken slumber by Miss Tweedle-Dumb as she made her way to the bathroom.
Sunday I spent mostly recovering form a hangover that I had didn't anticipate. I never get hangovers. Why was Sunday the day to start?! Fully-recovered Monday was spent in my home-town wondering around boutiques and being chatted up by weirdo-couple's trying to stroke me. Strangely though, after the weekend that I have had I have not made any pounces on the male variety and for once in a very, very long time I am not lusting or longing for anyone. I suppose this is what its like to be single then, but hopefully not forever. Out on the prowl soon I hope.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
A Lucky Escape ...
Evening,
Well, what a week this has been. Here in the UK we have been experiencing some extreme weather conditions, of which have blown of several of my plans! I am very angry at this. It seems that us Brits can't seem to deal with a few drops of the white stuff - I'm on about snow; Filthy!. I mean a single helping of it is enough to bring this country to its knees - OK, now I am playing with you.
So this weekend was meant to be mine and Miss Chocolate's romantic mini break away to North-Wales-ish. Wrong. The snow had better plans. And so all our plans for a naked skinny-dipping spa, eating fast food in the bathroom and heading to the shops just to buy an outfit that we would return after our rowdy night out have now all gone to shit because of the bad weather up North. Granted, we have changed the dates, but I don't know whether I can get the day off from work and this is causing some ruffled feathers in the love nest of Miss Chocolat a la Moi. Regardless I am sure that we will be the best of friends soon as we have an impending weekend of havoc to create as the bunny ears are out and we are ready to party like its Easter 2013! I also have an 80's V 90's night to attend with Miss Chocolate, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dee and some other well known faces. So this weekend should be a blast if the bloody snow holds off. It'll give me something interesting to tell of next week.
And after last weeks drama surrounding Mr. Coffee I am glad to say that this chapter is now closed and I shall no longer be obsessing, fantasising or thinking of the so-called 'rocker', although I use that term very loosely. In a desperate attempt to gain his attention I did attempt to text Mr. Coffee several times throughout the week, even a phone-call or two, inviting him over for dinner and drinks, but all to no avail. So after logging into Facebook and seeing that he was online I struck up a conversation knowing that he wouldn't be in a talkative mood. Pop! Suddenly to my surprise Mr. Coffee answered back and we started small talk. I asked how college was and he said he was enjoying it especially since there were drama's erupting and romances blossoming. This got me thinking. "Does that mean that your trying to pursue someone then?" I typed, cautious of what the answer might be. He replied with Maybe. I sat there, stunned. A small part of me thought 'Knock, Knock, Oh Hey! You know it might be you that he's talking about?' Knowing that this wasn't the case but still hoping that it was I asked another question, "Was that the case last week?" but silence soon followed. I asked again and this time Mr. Coffee replied. "Sort of - Its complicated, but she wasn't there no" was the weak response that he attempted to fool me with. I hesitated to believe him. Then a surge of energy as the ice melted his hands and they flowed freely across his keyboard telling me how I somehow put him on the spot last week. Not True. And how its all really complicated right now. Calm and collected I started my own scat along my laptop keypad. How dare he! "Whats going on between us?" I asked burning up with a simmering mixture of embarrassment and anger. Again more silence. Again I asked. "I don't think there is anything between us, dude. I just don't think we're right for each other." - Quote and verbatim. I mean who says 'dude' now-days anyway. I'm sorry I didn't realise you were Axel Rose? Humiliation swallowed me up making me feel like a fool in the way of relationships yet again. But at least I know - I'm glad that it took more than eight weeks to get sorted! Seems like it may be a blessing in disguise as the self-proclaimed womaniser moves onto his next piece of meat. *High-Pitch-Gay-Man-Voice* "Uhh, yeah I'm not a Hump-'em-and-dump-'em kinda guy". Yeah ... Much!
Mr. Mot has also made several appearances this week, lending his ear and sharing life as well as yet again asking me to spend some 'quality' time with him. The latest one, is me nursing him back to health and tending to his every need. Every. Need. But as it would happen I don't have any qualifications to nurse anyone back to health and impersonating a figure of authority within the public sector is an arresting offence. Even so I am sure Mr. Mot wouldn't say not to handcuffing me and having his wicked way with a naughty convict.
So here's hoping the weather holds out for me this weekend and stays nice so I can get my claws into a new obsession! Out on the prowl again ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Well, what a week this has been. Here in the UK we have been experiencing some extreme weather conditions, of which have blown of several of my plans! I am very angry at this. It seems that us Brits can't seem to deal with a few drops of the white stuff - I'm on about snow; Filthy!. I mean a single helping of it is enough to bring this country to its knees - OK, now I am playing with you.
So this weekend was meant to be mine and Miss Chocolate's romantic mini break away to North-Wales-ish. Wrong. The snow had better plans. And so all our plans for a naked skinny-dipping spa, eating fast food in the bathroom and heading to the shops just to buy an outfit that we would return after our rowdy night out have now all gone to shit because of the bad weather up North. Granted, we have changed the dates, but I don't know whether I can get the day off from work and this is causing some ruffled feathers in the love nest of Miss Chocolat a la Moi. Regardless I am sure that we will be the best of friends soon as we have an impending weekend of havoc to create as the bunny ears are out and we are ready to party like its Easter 2013! I also have an 80's V 90's night to attend with Miss Chocolate, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dee and some other well known faces. So this weekend should be a blast if the bloody snow holds off. It'll give me something interesting to tell of next week.
And after last weeks drama surrounding Mr. Coffee I am glad to say that this chapter is now closed and I shall no longer be obsessing, fantasising or thinking of the so-called 'rocker', although I use that term very loosely. In a desperate attempt to gain his attention I did attempt to text Mr. Coffee several times throughout the week, even a phone-call or two, inviting him over for dinner and drinks, but all to no avail. So after logging into Facebook and seeing that he was online I struck up a conversation knowing that he wouldn't be in a talkative mood. Pop! Suddenly to my surprise Mr. Coffee answered back and we started small talk. I asked how college was and he said he was enjoying it especially since there were drama's erupting and romances blossoming. This got me thinking. "Does that mean that your trying to pursue someone then?" I typed, cautious of what the answer might be. He replied with Maybe. I sat there, stunned. A small part of me thought 'Knock, Knock, Oh Hey! You know it might be you that he's talking about?' Knowing that this wasn't the case but still hoping that it was I asked another question, "Was that the case last week?" but silence soon followed. I asked again and this time Mr. Coffee replied. "Sort of - Its complicated, but she wasn't there no" was the weak response that he attempted to fool me with. I hesitated to believe him. Then a surge of energy as the ice melted his hands and they flowed freely across his keyboard telling me how I somehow put him on the spot last week. Not True. And how its all really complicated right now. Calm and collected I started my own scat along my laptop keypad. How dare he! "Whats going on between us?" I asked burning up with a simmering mixture of embarrassment and anger. Again more silence. Again I asked. "I don't think there is anything between us, dude. I just don't think we're right for each other." - Quote and verbatim. I mean who says 'dude' now-days anyway. I'm sorry I didn't realise you were Axel Rose? Humiliation swallowed me up making me feel like a fool in the way of relationships yet again. But at least I know - I'm glad that it took more than eight weeks to get sorted! Seems like it may be a blessing in disguise as the self-proclaimed womaniser moves onto his next piece of meat. *High-Pitch-Gay-Man-Voice* "Uhh, yeah I'm not a Hump-'em-and-dump-'em kinda guy". Yeah ... Much!
Mr. Mot has also made several appearances this week, lending his ear and sharing life as well as yet again asking me to spend some 'quality' time with him. The latest one, is me nursing him back to health and tending to his every need. Every. Need. But as it would happen I don't have any qualifications to nurse anyone back to health and impersonating a figure of authority within the public sector is an arresting offence. Even so I am sure Mr. Mot wouldn't say not to handcuffing me and having his wicked way with a naughty convict.
So here's hoping the weather holds out for me this weekend and stays nice so I can get my claws into a new obsession! Out on the prowl again ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Tuesday, 12 February 2013
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
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
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