The other day I told you about the first date I had which turned out to be not all that fantabulous after all. I obviously hadn’t had very high expectations though, as my first instinct when I received the ‘there will be no second date’ mail was ‘brilliant – I have more time to sew rabbits’.
So I dusted myself down and got out the sewing machine (which, incidently, I promptly broke).
Then last Thursday, Sister Two and I went to hear a couple of our friends play their (brilliant) music in a local pub (sadly, Sister One was otherwise engaged with 3 children, 3 dogs, a lizardy thing and a boyfriend). Sister Two ran the pub dry of Rose and bacon crisps. I drowned in lemonade.
Part way through the evening I noticed a smiley man on the other side of the pub. Unfortunately a drunken Sister Two noticed me noticing him and decided to take matters into her drunken hands. This was done by much gesticulating to find out if he was vaguely interested. To cut a long story short, despite Sister Two’s drunken matchmaking and a concerted effort on the part of one of his drunken friends, we got chatting, we swapped numbers and…we went on a date! Yes, that was the second first date in a week…
(I’ll give you a few minutes to recover)
Right, so to the date. This time I had nothing to organise. He – I’m going to call him TTB for now – suggested a walk up the Downs to a real country bumpkin pub for a drink then on to another for lunch. Lovely. The weather forecast was not good but not to worry, ‘I don’t rust’ I told him. That said, on Monday in Bumpkinsville it was tipping it down and I assumed that rust or not, we’d probably give the walk a miss and dressed accordingly. But no. TTB was not deterred and I didn’t want to wimp out. And that was why I ended up with mud up to my knees on my new jeans while donning the only waterproof jacket I had – my hi-vis cycling jacket. Who could resist this sophisticated look?
After stopping for a drink in the most amazing pub I’ve ever been in (pitch black, full of smoke and slightly odd looking locals, barking dogs, a cat and a vocal parrot) we went back to Pog Towers to change into dry, warm clothes and drove to the pub for lunch (thank god.)
It was great and:
- He was playing 80s music in his car (my kind of music)
- He has a stash of ‘car sweets’ (and didn’t stop and make me walk home when I tried to explain the concept of evil-yellow-sweets to him)
- He bought me an Easter Egg
- Norman seems to like him (well, he didn’t draw blood. That’s almost a declaration of love from him)
And TTB said he wants to meet again and hasn’t disappeared. In fact, the plan is that I’m seeing him tomorrow. I am of course now having a panic as 1) it’s been a REALLY long time since I went on a second date and 2) tomorrow is Friday 13th. And that’s quite an issue when you are the sort of Pog who has to touch her collar three times when seeing a magpie (because once may not be enough)…
Anyway, we’ll see what happens tomorrow I guess… :o)
From a ‘been married for ever’ this is exciting stuff and I’m looking forward to the next episode, I mean blog post.
What does TTB stand for? I’m guessing ‘Tippity Top Bloke.’ Am I close?
lol! I wasn’t going to let on what TTB is, but because it’s you Mrs B….. It’s ‘The Toy Boy’ ;o) (I was going to go with TB but that made him sound rather less appealing!)
Laughing out loud! Go girl!