Bi-Conundrum...

Have you ever dated a bisexual? Or someone who ultimately finds herself to be attracted to another girl in the middle of your date? As in some dramatic scene from Grey’s Anatomy – where George dates the bisexual Callie?

George and Callie

Erica and Callie

I’ve had a similar experience with a girl of my own. Lately, I asked a light ivory skinned brunette whether she felt like going out for a date and drinks. I jumped for joy when she gave me the place, time and her number.

I dressed up smart casual and waited for her to arrival. I sat down inside a cubicle at the local rock bar. The moment she walked in, you could feel that every man in the bar had their gaze turned towards her – even those with girlfriends.  I’m sure I even saw one girl slap her boyfriend’s head with her handbag to get his attention back. I could sense their killing intent aimed at me as she bowed down to kiss my cheek.

Something else which made me feel very out of place was that I felt especially short. She was already almost 1m 80cm tall (My height) but she had felt the need to wear tight black leggings and 3-inch heels, making me seem and feel like Gimli form Lord of the Rings.

Her company was very enjoyable and it wasn’t long till our arms were around each other. She settled comfortably on top of me and we continued kissing in the privacy of our cubicle. We stopped briefly as a troupe of girls passed by and gave us shocked expressions before walking on to the bar.

We continued kissing until she said she needed to fix her make-up. I straightened my shirt and waited at our cubicle. 15 minutes later, I began to wonder where she wandered off to and went to the bar to get myself another drink.

I made some space at the bar for two girls who were making out voraciously next to me. It took me seconds to realise that one of them was my date; the other was the leader of the troupe. They stopped kissing to take a breather. My date noticed my presence and escaped quickly from the girl’s clutches. She gestured with her hands towards her, “This is Trisha (Name changed… Sort of), she’s my ex-girlfriend. I didn’t mean to offend you on but I needed to make her jealous.”

Then she returned to making out with her female companion. I spent the rest of the night talking to Trisha’s friends, occasionally wondering whether one of the two lovers could die from over stimulation – they hadn’t stopped making out with each other since I was introduced.

I wasn’t sure whether I should be happy that a lesbian had decided to use me as jealousy material or to cry that I was used as jealously material for a lesbian. 

The Karaoke Queen

It was a warm Summer evening when I randomly plucked the courage to ask a girl out. People who know me well have learnt that despite my bubbly and outgoing personality, I’m pretty shy when it comes to asking a girl out.

That day, maybe a meteorite hit me but I decided that it was time to find out whether she would answer with that one syllable “Yes!” Oddly enough, she did. I felt elated and we made plans to go out later on that night.

I parked my cabriolet near our meeting point. I was hoping to make a good first impression but she arrived later than anticipated, therefore I had to park my car some place safe to avoid it getting hit or anything.

As I walked back, I noticed her walking a small distance away in front of me. She looked very pretty with her small frame wearing a tight fitting turquoise dress and a black bolero. Her hair was brushed straight and it reached just past her hips. Her make up was also done in shades of blue, even her lipstick. All in all, it was quite a sight to behold. I looked like a ruffian next to her; I wore a simple black dinner jacket with a lavender coloured shirt and black tie.

After chatting for a bit, we set off for a night of food, drinks and… apparently… Karaoke. The food was enjoyable, the drinks too… but nothing prepared me for the Karaoke. I’m an honest man and she had asked for an honest opinion since she wanted to take singing up as a part-time job.

Her singing… Was… Well… Have you ever heard a cat yowl in the middle of the night? Now imagine that this cat had a screech as loud as a BMW coming to a standstill after racing at 150MPH. Till today, I still can’t find the most appropriate terminology to describe her musical skills… She was tone-deaf and had no musical sense… I can barely sing so I admire her courage to get up on stage despite her evident lacking ability.

She went on stage for her third time before returning back to my side after ruining Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life!” for me. She smiled kindly, “What do you think? I’m good, am I not?” I saw many of the neighbouring patrons looking at me pitifully whilst the table next to us were stifling their laughter at her… passionate singing.

I took a deep breath and looked back at her, holding her gaze steady with mine and said, “I don’t think singing is your vocation. You’re very smart (I assumed… I may have been wrong) and pretty; and I’m sure you have better talents.” It felt as if an electric shock travelled from her shoulder into my palm, and then she stiffened up. Her face contorting into an unrecognisable mess of emotions, resembling Daveigh Chase as Samara in The Ring... I felt the same level of horror and emotion emit from her tiny frame; to the point that I was slightly frightened.

My innocent comment had apparently hit a nerve. Less than 5 seconds later, she screamed that I should die, grabbed her clutch and escaped into the night-life. I remember shaking my head and some of the patrons even offered to help me in my hunt for my date.

I thanked them for their offer but it was my burden to bear. It didn’t take me long to find her. From the little I had gathered about her personality, I checked the neighbouring Karaoke bars and found her lounging in the arms of some stranger who was complimenting what a beautiful and serene voice she had. It seems that she found another tone deaf imbecile to praise her fictional singing skills. I barely caught the words, “…you sing like Stevie Nicks…” before she planted her lips on his.

Two years later, she is the single mother of a 1 ½ year old baby girl, as well as, still dating that same guy.

The #Gamer

Nearly every guy’s dream is to date a girl who loves films, series, can share a beer or two, has the same interests and… loves gaming (I’m not saying that this is true for every guy out there but being an avid gamer myself, at times, it sometimes is more fun to play a co-op fragging a few hundred zombies rather than go out for dinner at some posh restaurant.

This particular girl called Skye (It’s not her real name but it was more or less just obscure), I met on an evening out with some work colleagues at a salsa bar; she was of medium build, blonde hair cut in layers and dark grey stormy eyes. She appeared pretty bored sitting on a bar stool with a beer bottle in her hand. The rest of her friends had taken over the dance floor and were boogieing their hearts out with countless strangers and, even, a few co-workers of mine; their shapes and sizes varied from big-boned and round to fit and lean.

Several foreign looking men had already tried approaching her but were apparently shot down within seconds of conversing with her. She must either have had some potent venom at her disposal to get rid of men she disliked or had a simple dislike for men in general, I was hoping that it was the former... .

I tempted fate that evening. I asked the bartender for “Liquid courage”, whereby he mixed several coloured alcoholic beverages together and created a strong and bitter smelling beverage. He laughed as I took one long look at it and drank it in one quaff – the burning feeling along with the antiseptic taste of something-like Vodka, travelled down from my throat to my stomach.

I approached her with a smile and she said, “Not another idiot.” I looked baffled for a moment, then she said, “Tell me who these people are: Abe Sapien, Arthas, Dr. Bishop and Dante? Then maybe we can get to know each other better.”

I laughed as I realised that she had developed a personal screening process that would only be understood by a fellow gamer. Smooth as silk, I slid in the stool next to her and stated confidently, rattling them off using my fingers, “Hell boy, Warcraft 3, Fringe and… Devil May Cry.” 

So BADASS! Wish they made the third film though!

The Way Strategy was meant to be played! Heroes, Armies... What else? 

X-Files mixed with Warehouse 13 and a dash of Elementary!

The Skills! The Explosions! Everything a Gamer could wish for!

She beamed and we started chatting about everything from gaming to films and other series. We spent the evening drinking and; fooling around and making fun of the other patrons in the bar. At some point during the night my memory became a blur; I remember images of kissing her and driving to her house but even those were just fleeting images.

(At this point, I think I should inform everyone that I am unable to drink alcohol – not due to health issues, but simply because I am not a great fan of the taste. I’m over 80kg and over the course of my life, I can count on my ten fingers, the number of times I have drunk alcohol. The second issue that I should inform you about is that when I drink even the minimalist amounts of alcohol, I seem to blackout and lose my memory until I wake up in some unknown place with scraps of information left as a reminder from what had transpired that past night. The third and final issue… soft drinks seem to put me in a temporary hypomanic state which still allows me to function normally but without any of the usual inhibitions. Sometimes this is even accompanied by memory blackouts… - I work in the health profession and yet… even I wonder how that is possible.)

That morning, I woke up to a beautiful, golden sunrise over the cliffs in the south of my country. There were several things I noticed:

• 1.      I was the lack of clothing covering my body. I was wearing a fuchsia coloured shirt, my underwear and black pair of Nike Flytops. (I still have no clue where the rest of my clothes are)
• 2.      There was a pink lace bra on the floor in my car.
• 3.      I had no idea where I was or how I got there.

Before any of you think that I did a Bluebeard and buried her somewhere, I saw her a few days later inside the same bar sending off another guy to the backburner – the only conciliation I had was that once she noticed me there, she winked, and then walked past whispering, “I want my bra back. Maybe you can drop it off later.” Her fingers lingered across my back, before exiting the club.

I really would have… had I remembered where I she lived… It still lies like a lonely survivor in the back of my wardrobe.

Kitty B: Bitter…antiseptic taste…you’re a lightweight…complete blackout…Why do I have a feeling that the bartender put in absinthe in your Liquid Courage.

“Yes! That was me around 5 Years Ago…"

Have any of you ever gone joined an online Dating website? I’m sure I’m not the only one who has tried it out after so many unsuccessful dates and a pitiable love-life… I’m not one to complain but… the girl I met on this date was the reason why you should never trust online dating.

After a few days of enjoyable conversation, we decided that we should go out for drinks at a local pub. I didn’t expect much but from her profile photo, she seemed to be pretty attractive and her interests were pretty similar to mine… Thing is… in our numerous conversations, I never paid much attention to the tense of the word she was using in text when describing these interests. I was just glad to have an interesting girl to talk to about the adrenaline filled pleasure that sports and activity always brought… Yes… I felt as if I had finally met a girl who was willing to go skydiving, rock-climbing, canoeing, etcetera… 

Now… I sat on one of the tables outside the bar and waited with a Sprite in hand for my date to arrive. I kept a look out for the young, curly haired blonde; a few minutes staring in one direction, a few minutes in the other direction.

About an hour later past our meeting time, I began to wonder whether I had mistaken the time of our encounter. I quickly sent her a message from the online dating service and I received a reply in less than a minute later. She had been sitting for an hour inside the bar anticipating my arrival.

When I had entered earlier, there hadn't been any women present. I responded curtly that I was waiting outside at the table in the furthest corner. A few moments later, I heard her call my name. I turned round and met my date.

I suddenly realised why the constant use of the past tense regarding her activities were now coming to light. In front of me was the same girl who had doubled in size. Her neck was as thick a tree trunk and her facial features were barely recognisable. The first words that escaped my lips were not “Hi!” or “How are you?”, rather “You don’t look anything like your picture. How old is the photo?” She blushed and answered, “Yes! That was me around 5 years ago… You look better than on your profile. I was expecting worse considering the number of men I’ve met that look so good on their profiles.”

(I wondered how many men had been misled by her profile… Later on, I would find out that there too many to count…)

I nodded slowly. I kind of understood why these men had suddenly turned tail and ran. I decided to give her a chance but I quickly noticed that her Online Dating Profile had failed to mention her passive aggressive stance towards men in general… or the fact that she absolutely believed that men were incapable of non-sexual thoughts… I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat before ordering a cider – I was hoping that the bitter taste of apple alcohol would take my mind off the verbal lashing I received as part of the male race.

Throughout the second part of her conversation she described how men were, (and I quote) “chauvinistic pigs with no sentiment or regard for a woman’s feelings.” This was abruptly followed by a constant whine on how woman have a higher intelligence and better capabilities than men. I calmly sat down throughout that evening, occasionally providing input, but eventually I must have zoned out and just nodded instead of responding. It wasn’t until several hours later and she had consumed enough alcohol to kill a buffalo that I managed to extricate myself from my predicament.

As I prepared to leave, she began sobbing and moaning that, “You are the only one who listens to me!” I turned round, half expecting someone to be behind me. “Let me give you my number, call me as soon as you can!” I quickly tapped out her number as she droned on; then I reached the name section. Unfortunately, my mind had become so hazy during the last couple of hours that her name had eluded me. I asked her to spell it out for me and she stared daggers at me. “It’s M-I-C!”

Being a guy who feels ashamed to forget names and people, this was one that I was all too happy to have forgotten.

Hulk’s Sister likes to “Smash! Bash! Drink!”

This is my first post!

A few weeks ago, I was sitting down at the counter of a quiet pub whilst waiting for a few friends. I was enjoying a nice long drink, listening to the enjoyable tune of ACDC’s Highway to Hell. Funnily enough that song was a sentiment to the rest of my night.

I have always believed that a woman’s eyes are the window to the soul… The eyes that I saw that unfortunate night were simply… Indescribable… It was like looking into the dead, lifeless eyes of the female hulk – and not the green sexy one… I mean the female version of Bruce Banner with the big muscles and huge bulky frame.

I felt the ground shake a little, my drink rocked slightly and as I turned round I looked into those eyes. The first words she spoke were guttural and sounded strangely masculine. I blinked a few moments and had to take a step back to see her entire frame… Her face was attractive enough but the rest of her was not matching it…

She declared loudly to me, “Drinks! On me!” Unfortunately, I immediately took it as a single sentence and looked at her widely. My first thought was that she really wanted me to lick a drink off her body… The first problem that was directed towards me was that there was a lot of her (I’m not proud of that thought) and the second being that I did not find her sexually attractive at all.

Moments later, I realised my mistake and told her politely and curtly, “I’m sorry but I‘m waiting for someone.” I smiled back before turning back to sit back at the counter to continue my drink. I supposed that she too had returned back to her company of friends but her gaze was still digging deeply in my back.  I felt a hard tap on my shoulder, followed by it being clasped tightly… I was sure that it had been wrenched from its socket.

I stood up and made a sharp turn before asking her, “Is there anything I can help you out with it?” She smiled, nodded and pointed towards her friends. I courteously refused but she still shoved me forward. I ended up seated between Hulk’s Sister and her dainty comrade. The talk at the table had suddenly focused on me and my love life. It was slightly… Awkward…

I picked up my phone and silently messaged a flamboyant buddy to help me out. I switched his name with my father’s and he texted me that there was an emergency with some made-up colleagues. I silently thanked him for the excuse but I hoped that the two names he used would not let the cat out of the bag. The two names he used were... Polly and Babel…

I excused myself from the party and as I was freed from the oestrogen rich atmosphere, Hulkess had decided that she needed to be a part of my inexistent trip to the Emergency department. She grabbed me by the shoulders, lifted me off the floor and offered some moral support; although not needed, it was a sweet gesture. This gesture would have been pleasanter had I been standing on the ground and not had most of the regulars laugh at me as I’m flailing like a Ken doll in the air.

The moment she let me out of her vice-like grasp, I expressed my thanks and quickly rushed off and took the long circuit to another pub further away.

The kicker at the end of the night was the fact that I owed my flamboyant friend a favour… Of which he requested my presence immediately. As much as I love the guy (in a non-homosexual manner - i.e. bromance-sort of thing) , he requested a full blown kiss with tongue. I am very comfortable with my heterosexuality but he seemed to enjoy the idea of having homosexuality brought upon a straight guy.

Kitty B: I have forced him to admit that he did not kiss him but rather he ran away after giving his friend a kiss on his cheek.

The Beginning of "From Day to Date"

Hi Everybody

Three very sweet girl-friends of mine recently described my love life as a romantic, dramatic and ridiculously funny soap opera (they emphasised this especially).

I’m a bit old-fashioned and am one who still believes in chivalry. Disappointingly enough, women have never taken a liking to it and… well… my choice in dateable women has also never been my forte`...

And like everyone else, I’ve had my own mishaps with women and, regretfully enough, made my own mistakes with both women I’ve liked, dated or found merely too young to form a mature and adult sexual and romantic relationship with.

1. Firsty, I’m not very good with woman or recognising their advances on me.
2. Secondly, they also describe my love life as being a regular occurrence of mishaps and confusions.
3. Thirdly, I’ve been described as being excessively and unknowingly charming without intending to be.
4. Finally, the reason I’m writing this Blog, without my details or those of the ladies of varying ages (all 18+), is through my friends convincing, as well as the antics that form part of my life on a daily basis.

In short, this Blog will be dedicated to writing down my dating life, discussing the good, the bad and the ugly. I’ll limit speaking about the dates that are not worth mentioning or interesting.

In each chapter, you will also get to read the comments of my three friends anonymously named. Their comments will follow from the next post onwards.