An average night

Yep. Tassles cancelled.

When I texted her on Friday afternoon to make plans for the night, she replied saying she messaged me on Thursday (she didn't) saying she got tickets to Lovebox. Pissed me off but what can you do eh?

Actually I'll tell you what: go get drunk with some buddies.

I went to a few bars in Dalston and settled into the challenge and slating that is the dynamic of this particular group of friends (constant insult and debate, I like it). It was a bar that's been around for ages but that I'd not actually got round to going to till last night. It was a good looking crowd, music a little too pretentious at times (turning the PA up for a Lightening Bolt tune at 9:30pm in a bar is a little excessive in my book), with lots of friends coming and going - all of which contributed to a good drunken vibe.

As we sat there I spent about half an hour on and off talking to a girl on whatsapp (instant messenger) I went on a date with years ago who I've always kept in touch with. She's a petite actress/dancer, brunette, fair skinned, well spoken and pretty. We get on pretty well. She's a bag of insecurities and neuroses but I think that's mainly because (well aside from the fact we all are) she's a thinker and has been surrounded by bitchy dancers/actresses who are always pulling each other down and undermining each other - I've kind of acted as a confident and friend. And perv. She's very submissive and we've talked endlessly and graphically about all the things we'd do, it got to a point where I was kind of her master, telling her what to do, making her send or do things for me from the mundane to the explicit - I had the option to own this girl as my fuck toy. However I pulled back because I didn't want that responsibility, I wasn't in a place where I wanted the burden of that dynamic, I didn't want a relationship. I knew that to take it away would have been a very big thing to do to her. She needs a man to be a master to her, she really loves it, it gives her purpose.

She told me she's now seeing a guy who is ticking this box for her in quite a big way. She says they're falling in love, and that their sex is amazing - pretty S&M too. I just hope he's taking that power respectfully, as I say, I think it's a big responsibility. Playing that role doesn't mean you just get to do what you want and treat your woman harshly. It means you consider her at all times, and I mean emotionally more than physically too (bruises and slap marks fade).

I saw her for a few hours a couple of weeks ago. She was presenting some kind of show thing and I went to meet her before she had to work, we drank, talked, kissed a little in the dressing room, but we kept it above board. Whilst I don't know her enough to know that I'd take that responsibility on, I do know that we would have a lot of fun with that dynamic between us. When I'm with someone, I take on their emotional side too - their issues are there to be shared, I support their endeavours, in fact - all in all I'm pretty girly on that front maybe. Anyway on hungover days like today, what I would do for some slow, sensual languid sex this afternoon. Actually this makes me realise I've not had meaningful sex for....as long as I can remember. Hmmm. That sucks.

So back to last night - we left the bar and got a cab to a houseparty down the road. It was a girl who my mate worked with who buzzed us in. We walked up five flights of stairs (which even in this 'nice' warehousey place smelled ever so faintly of piss/desperation - anywhere where there are concrete stairwells it seems there are men giving into temptation) and she greeted us at the door with "I'm sorry guys but there's loads of gays here" - she wasn't lying; we walked into a room filled with lot of disco, mincing and excited wide eyed men gesticulating.

There were probably about 15-20 people in the room. A flat in an art deco building, a large high ceilinged room with an old cast iron window lining the length of the wall. There were a couple of sewing machines as well as a few dummy's lying around so going by the occupant I guess it was a fashion crowd, although the way people were dressed didn't make me think it was. We'd each bought a bottle of wine with us and we set about cracking them open and decanting them into plastic cups.

My annoyance at a thing that happened at work which consequently developed after work (iphone + emails = never not at work) coupled with my cancelled date had left me in a 'fuck the world' mood where I wanted to just go get wasted. I actually didn't go and drink as vehemently as I could have done, however I did decide I would smoke which was even more nihilistic really. I quit in January, and didn't touch a cigarette till the end of May when I went to a music festival; the way I saw it I was away, I was going to be taking just about everything else that was naughty so I may as well smoke.  Then I returned home and didn't smoke again. Till this night which I told myself was a one off...

After about 10 minutes of talking with a couple of girls we knew there I took myself off to the side to roll a cigarette. I was behind their dining table by the window, on the other side in the corner of the room was a small bookcase and a couple of lamps. There was a girl standing there who I acknowledged with a a cursory nod as I went back to concentrating on constructing my little cone of sin. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her do a Del Boy onto the lamps. She knocked the shade off of one and had fallen back into the corner, leaving everything but herself standing.

I could have just stood there, but instead I squeezed myself through the small gap past the chairs over to her and helped pick her up from the floor, fit the shade back on the lamp and try to make her not feel like too much of a dick. She'd simply misjudged where the hell anything was (the wall, the bookcase, maybe even the lamps) and lent into thin air which of course, didn't lean back. She thanked me for coming over to help pick her up and asked me my name. I lit her cigarette, then mine and we started to talk. Now I was stood here I could see she was pretty. She was a Ukrainian/Canadian brunette photographer who looked like Gemma Arterton, so not "fuck you're sex on legs" - more a "wow, you're really pretty" type thing. After about 15 minutes of talking she went to the toilet and I went back to my friends to drink, dance stupidly, do bumps and talk shit.

As the party thinned out it was pretty much gay dudes, us and a few girls left. It got to about 4:30am and I decided that the party had gone, there was no point in forcing it so I should go home. I said goodbye to the people I'd talked to, and then went over to Mary, shook her hand told her it was nice to meet her before I left to walk home.

What a dick.

Now I'm not saying that she liked me, I have no idea. But I do know that I let myself down here. I was at a party which was winding down, there were a few gay guys, a few straight and Mary who I for some reason, never approached to talk to again. WTF? Why didn't I go and talk to her again? She was really pretty, a photographer, we'd gotten on. Why didn't I stay longer and talk to her? Idiot.

Instead, I just walked home had an unsatisfactory inter-wank (obligatory) and passed out.

If I carry on like that, I deserve to not get anywhere.

You know what? In the time since I've not been writing this blog of late I've not really been dating. I've had sex sure, but of late that hasn't been that often either - I've kind of just stepped out of the game a little. Well that and the fact that the couple of girls I've been speaking to are either a tease/taken/hard to pin down/in Newcastle.

I think I need to get myself out there again.

In fact fuck it that's what I'm going to do now.

London...you have been warned; I intend to charm then fuck the living daylights out of you.