Oops, I’ve been gone for nearly a month. In my defense, I got caught up with “life” and “running a marathon” which took precedence over “boozing it up with craigslist randoms”.
Hampstead guy texted me once again after Easter. Amazing, really, the persistence. I’ve got to give him credit. But not enough credit to even contemplate the horrendous idea of seeing him again.
I decided to go out with the tall guy again, though I made him wait nearly 3 weeks (again, the marathon…).
We met up for cocktails in Soho. I managed to pass right by him at the entrance to the bar without seeing him… am I that blind?? The guy is 6’6. I’m wondering if I had been that drunk on our first date that I actually forgot what he looked like. I’m so classy.
We went through a few cocktails relatively quickly and it didn’t take long before he started kissing me. Which I did enjoy, though I kept getting distracted and bursting out laughing at the conversation of two ditzy Essex girls behind us. For some reason I was incredibly giggly all night and felt like I was acting a bit odd, going off on bizarre tangents and stories that were only funny to me… perhaps the reason he kept kissing me was to shut me up. We went for dim sum and then traipsed around various bits of London for more drinks. He wanted me to go home with him, but being a lady as I am, this was not an option. Okay, it was actually more the fact that he lived disturbingly close to a guy I used to date and in my head I had a horrible vision of us running into him and all the terrible drunken awkwardness that would ensue. But, for the sake of my pride and dignity, let’s just say it was because I am classy and have morals.
Though he joked that this was the last time we’d see each other, I teased him that he was definitely going to try for a third date. Which he has. He’s texted asking if I want to go out “for a third and final time” this weekend. I’m going to have to decline. I’m pretty sure he just wants to bone me, anyway.