Hindsight

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You know when you do something, you feel really good, you’re in a state of euphoria and you’re so excited you can’t wait to tell the world.  But then, you tell a select few people and as you’re retelling the story you start to realise the amount of stupid things you said, the moments you wish you could take back and basically that awesome feeling you had all day turns into a massive feeling of regret.

So I had a date last night, and this morning and all day I was feeling really good, like I’d finally met a guy who ticked all the boxes and more than that, he was INTERESTED IN ME! This has never happened before and it had me smiling all day.  But then I went to tell my parents about it and a couple of my girlfriends, and I sat there and realised that if this guy asks me back for more, he is clearly just as crazy as me… because the amount of things I said and did that I shouldn’t have are just … insane…

First things first, we met a few nights ago… when we were drinking.. at a club.. so yeah, not the ideal place to meet someone and I have ALWAYS said that I would never date anyone I met out clubbing just because chances are they only want one thing.   Our conversation started with me saying to him, “Are you fucking serious?” as I had been waiting for quite a while to get served, and he just walked on up and got served straight away.  I then said, “Do I need to have a dick to get a drink around here?”.  Yeah.. Charming.. I know.. I’m pretty sure when Cinderella met Prince Charming she didn’t swear twice in the first sentence or talk about penises….

Anyway, the night went on and we were talking quite a bit and it became obvious that he was just as socially awkward and drunk as me… particularly when after the third or fourth drink together, he said “I like you now” as he put down his glass… I responded with, “well that’s nice to know that you only have to get drunk to like me..” He profusely apologised and said what he meant was that he felt confident enough now to admit that he liked me.

A few days passed and we were texting, but I realised I had no recollection of his name; though I could remember his two dogs names were Rosie and Rover… So a dear friend of mine hatched a brilliant plan… She texted him, using a wrong name and asked if he was coming to a party on the weekend – he responded and said his name wasn’t Dave and was in fact Kevin.. brilliant I say… and with a bit more information she found him on Facebook – this took all of 10 minutes.. I think she should consider working for the NSA or ASIO.  Bitch has got stalking down pat!

So last night on our date, not only was I running half an hour late, but I just couldn’t for the life of me get my hair to look nice while sitting out – so I did it up in a tight ballerina bun and looked like an uptight bitch in my opinion.  I wanted to go for fun and carefree but got stuck with corporate dork look.

After a few casual drinks, we went for dinner at a lovely but overpriced restaurant with words you can’t pronounce.  We joked about this and both went for the only thing on the menu with words we could understand – “Poached king salmon, finger lime, labna steamed greens, pan juices” turned into “ooh that’s Salmon! .. of some sort… that will do”. I responded with, “or fingers…”

After dinner and wine, we moved into a nice little bar that felt like it belonged in Melbourne or  Brooklyn .. definitely not Mackay.  We sat and talked when drink after drink came my topic of conversation changed to the few things I knew about Ireland.. like.. the IRA … which is the equivalent of going on a date with a German and talking about the Nazis…

The only other thing I really know about Ireland is St Patrick’s day, so you can imagine how enthralling the conversation was ..  oh .. and then I told him how I have always said that when I’m ready to get married, I’d travel to Ireland and Scotland to find the love of my life… talk about jumping to conclusions early on in the night.. I might as well have proposed to him then and there …

The night wasn’t overly bad – but it just showed me that I really am not that great at socializing with people when I am pretty sure they are the bees knees…

I ended up getting quite drunk and rambling on about who knows what – pretty sure babies and kids were brought up though. The other thing is, when I drink a bit – I get into a bad habit of imitating people’s accents. I have learnt that this isn’t “cute” but actually quite rude. So the poor lad not only spent too much money on my dinner and copious amounts of alcohol but he had to listen to hours of shit banter and me saying “eee teteee potatoes” all night.

And I wonder why I am single

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