Blame it on the long island

I am a creature of habit. I notice repititive behaviours and file them away. Apparently, my mind is desperate to be one day chosen as the world’s first human computer hybrid. This also explains why I excelled in Quantitative reasoning in primary school. So, I totally understood my shock and ultimate crash when Eggman’s Tuesday call was hinting at us seeing on friday. “You mean saturday,” I corrected him because, if date 1 is on Saturday, and date 2 is on saturday the answer to “when is date 3?” Is obviously saturday for everyone except the village idiot. He hinted at it again on Wednesday with the added sprinkles of my wearing a red dress. I promptly ignored both suggestions. The correct date was saturday and i was no idiot neither did I reside in a village. On Thursday, he said it again and I was like waaaiiitttttt, are you serious?

He was.

He also wanted me to wear heels with the red dress.

I shot down both dreams with the true and sure aim of an archer. I mean, Asides, my obvious need to make most people realise I adore disappointing them… I also couldn’t leave my parent’s house in heels at 8pm without getting preached at the next day. So I doned a short multicoloured skater skirt, black sphagetti top and ballet lace-up flats. I looked as cute as a button.

That friday evening in February took us to Radisson blu. I know i don’t frequent expensive hotels but having to pass my bag through one of those xray machine they use at airports and walk through a metal detector was a surprise. We went to the bar and I won the vote to sit at the bar. I love high chairs. Drinks arrived and a heated bowl of nuts. We chewed, drank and chatted while familiar songs meandered through the air. BLISS!

There was a guy and a lady singing covers with a live band. Eggman said they were paid for the gig. I couldn’t, wouldn’t believe him… Singing and playing snookers, singing and cracking jokes with people around and, on top of all that, getting paid whilst singing other people’s songs??? Meanwhile, all this time I’ve been wasting my own covers in bathroom performances…????


The guy did have a wonderful voice though and maybe I was watching him a bit too much because he came and stood behind Eggman, urging me to “look at my man” while he droned out a romantic number. If I wasn’t 30% alcohol at thst point, It would have been SOOOO awkward. I mean, yes I liked the guy but we were no way near looking into each others eyes. Eggman played it off and we giggled like children when he left.

Our suya arrived and we nibbled away. I wish I could remenber what we talked about. We were just two happy people going at it. The barman cleared our debris away and asked if we wanted anything, Eggman asked for a long island (it was so strong it almost got my mascara teared up) but I was good, mindful of my alcohol threshold which I felt was a sip away. I was also mindful our first two drinks, nuts and suya were looming around 12,000. Our second date had been around 30. I dont know what his pay is but those were a lot in my world. Eggman was having none of it… probably because he didnt want to look like the drunkard in the relationship. The barman said he would make something special. And surprised I was when what looked to be a pretty pink ice tower was presented to me. It rose three times the height of the cup and I nibbled hard at it, scared it would melt like icecream. It didn’t. However it was made, melting off on the patron had been carefuly studied and prevented. After demolishing it off with a tea spoon, I asked for the toilet and Eggman introduced me to the tallest door I had seen on any toilet.

Eggman was leaning against the bar when I returned. I asked him if he was ready to leave and he in reply moved behind me and hugged me tightly from behind. There. In front of the bar. I was surprised but my alcohol addled brain was less prone to over think and I sank imto the moment. His breathe was a fan on my highlit cheeks and I rested my hand on his which were on my tummy and we moved slowly to the jazz sounds that were played. It was nice.

He had me home shortly before 12. We hugged goodnight, he wouldn’t release me from the hug and so my cheek lay against his. I was quizzical and then, in a split second, his lips were on mine. I went from quizzical to surprised, very surprised. We poke fun at each other so much I had forgetten the romantic interest part. I still think it was his long-island that got to him.

Third date.


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