Round-up of my Saturday night. I had a vague date with an older guy, would meet Crush (now an ex-crush) so for the first time ever I had a schedule. So I dressed up, had some wine and hit the town.
I arrived quite late, shortly before one, but still nothing much was happening. I moved over to the other club... which was even worse. Ex-crush was there, and it was just... boring. I really get on well with the owners though, so I hated to leave, but the other place just has so much more sexual tension.
I walk in, and suddenly the bitch at the counter talks to me! She's thawing up nicely, but quite suddenly and it's somehow weird. Anyway, I have to keep her on my side so it's a good development because she appears to own the place.
I have the promised beer with the date and it is beyond awkward. We run out of things to say within three minutes. I'm relieved when I finally empty my glass. I move over to the dance floor just to relax a little and get away from this guy.
Suddenly someone touches my shoulder. I turn around, see a face I don't recognise. Asks me if I've found ex-crush. What the fuck? It's his weird live-in ex. I still can't get a grip on ex-crush. Is he into me, playing hard to get, or just too confused to go for it? Whatever it may be, I've had enough of his shit. I'll file him under "friends" for the time being, he's nice enough to talk to.
I see him again at the second club, we talk for a little bit. He points out someone's eyeing me. I hadn't even noticed.
When the hook-up hour starts at three, I find myself talking to an Indonesian guy. A little shorter than me, with a couple of hard rock-style long-haired friends in tow. Both gay. LOL. You find it everywhere you don't expect it to be.
Over a beer we seal the deal. He gives me a cigarette (could I have a non-smoker for once?) and suddenly I notice ex-crush has been circling the whole time (I'm really bad at spotting guys). Awkward, and getting quite annoying. What's up with that behaviour?
Hook-up's not my usual type but then again I surprise myself time and again. He's real easy to talk to, runs his own business with the two friends and is still following a course at uni. All the time we talk what Matt would call an ankle biter hangs around trying to get his attention. It doesn't impress either of us, and we barely pay attention.
At one point we leave, and we have real stereotypical rushed, drunken sex at his apartment: a trail of clothes leading from the front door to his couch and finally to his bed. We cuddle, spoon together and a few hours later have sex again. More sober, hotter. Beautiful brown skin.
We finally get up quite early and talk all morning over coffee. He has to go somewhere professionally, so I leave at about one but don't know where I am. Turns out I'm just down the street from the club.
We exchanged numbers, on his request. I might just call him.