Hey lovely people, I realise I haven’t posted for a while... and I won’t be making up unlikely excuses for it. As you know, I’ve started dating again and I have the impression I might have been incredibly lucky. I’m hesitant to spill the beans just yet – but I promise you’ll get to hear all about it!
Before that, here is date no. 2 with Hot Cross Buns. I hope it’s worth the wait!
After our first date, I heard very little from HCBs. I sent him a vague text to say hello a couple of days after our coffee date and he took almost 2 days to reply. I was already bored with this guy – if he couldn’t make an effort to keep in touch at this stage, why should I? A few days later, out of the blue, he texted to ask me out for dinner. Actually, I’ll rectify: he texted to ask me out for Nando’s. Erm, whatever! I’m renowned for being a cheap date and Nando’s in my city is actually in a pretty cool spot. So off we went.
Did he mention in his texts that he had broken an arm? My ass he did. This led to one of the most awkward dates ever. Yours truly had to carry trays and drinks, cut his chicken, pour him wine. I was spared having to zip up his trousers when he went to use the toilet – somehow he managed by himself. As unusual as it was, this provided for some fun and it made both of us a tad more relaxed. Accompanied by the fact that he normally didn’t drink because of his fitness and I’m a lightweight, it also made our bottle of red go down quite well.
I had a wedding to go to the following morning, and as such I had to be on my best behaviour. We sat in Nando’s until they pretty much kicked us out, then walked back in the direction of my house (I hinted we should go off in different directions a couple of times, but it didn’t work). While we were walking back, I was trying to do a quick review of the date in my head. Still pretty bland. He was a nice guy. Not much to add.
We got to my neighbourhood and sat down on the grass in front of my house. This is kind of like a park, but with no benches or swings. Just a big, square grassy area where old people occasionally play croquet. I’m proud to say no ball games took place that evening.
It was a very warm and starry night and we just lay down on the grass and talked. It’s a very quiet area so we were kind of whispering. It’s at that point that we started hearing a noise – something halfway a whimper and a squeak. To my horror, I quickly realised it was my next-door neighbour, the one that Handsome Housemate and I call ‘The Screamer’. As it was a muggy summer night, these guys had their window open. I don't think I need to explain further! Hot Cross Buns and I started giggling like kids. It was one of those occasions when the more you want to stop laughing, the more you can’t help yourself.
And this is when he leaned towards me – using his functioning arm – and kissed me. The sex noise had obviously inspired him. Great.
As first kisses go, it was alright. I didn’t particularly enjoy being pinned down by the weight of his cast (oh, and his muscles). I’m not normally horizontal on first kisses, so it did feel like it was a bit much. I don’t know why, but it was just a bit off. After a while, I had to peel him off me, cast and all, and get back to my feet.
I mumbled something about having to go, and we quickly said our goodbyes. Did the kiss leave me all excited? Tingling? Waiting for more? No, no and no.
Over the next couple of weeks I got two texts from him – both very non committal and, to be frank, boring. I decided I’d let it go. A pretty face and buns of steel just aren’t enough. He didn’t put up a fight, which was a good sign.
Was this the most boring post ever? Probably! But at least you didn’t have to be there on the actual dates, unlike yours truly ;-)
Catch up soon!
Pupa x
