Playing The Game

Playing the game

It’s warm in the bar, but not uncomfortable. It’s an inviting kind of heat, just warm enough to encourage you to take off your coat and relax but not so warm that you’ll perspire. The couches are deep and comfortable, the air lightly perfumed with the multitude of candles they have burning; all citrus fruits and sandalwood. The lighting is warm and dimmed, flowing out from wall sconces and delicate trails of fairy lights. It’s my favourite bar in town, welcoming and personal and cosy. I come here frequently and I don’t think it’s hard to see why. I’ve ordered an Irish coffee. I’m trying to give off the right vibe, you know? I don’t want to order a pint, not at this time of day, and seem like I’m too into my alcohol and the ‘bar scene’; but a plain coffee isn’t quite right either, might make it seem like it’s a flying visit or ‘just a coffee’. I want to make sure I’m coming across the right way. Friendly, fun, interested,
“So tell me about yourself” I say, and I think I’ve used just the right amount of enthusiasm. Eager to learn, good listener; this is what I want her to be thinking right now, ticking off my positive attributes on her mental check list. I want to make a good impression. I already know everything she tells me from her profile and our texts, but it’s always nice to be attentive. She’s in her early thirties, has kids from a failed marriage, but she doesn’t want to talk about that. Her kids are at their dads for the weekend. She hasn’t been online dating for long, but her friends told her to get back out there,
“That all sounds really interesting! I’m glad I messaged you quickly then before somebody else caught your attention.” She smiles at me then and I know I’ve said the right thing. There’s a delicate blush creeping up her cheeks and I find it adorable, “Can I get you another drink?” I ask and flash her a grin. She asks for a G&T this time; just a single and without the cucumber. I think that’s a good order. Assertive. It shows that she clearly has a social life if she has a preference for how to ask for her drink. She may even have come to this bar before with her friends for a girls night, sat in our exact seats and gossiped about who was going where and fighting with whom,
“What do you do for a living?” she enquires when I sit back down with our drinks. I don’t like this question, it always leads into complicated explanations of systems and structures and business requirements. Far too tedious for a date,
“I’m in IT.” I reply instead. Far easier this way, “I run a website.”
“Sounds dull.” She replies with a cheeky grin, and I let out a little bark of laughter. I like her honesty, and her attempt at making things humorous. I decide to glow with the flow and tell her a few jokes and she laughs. I like her laugh. It’s deep and throaty and she smiles when she laughs. Her teeth are straight and neat, not perfectly white but not discoloured like a smoker. She has an averagely pretty face, a little round with full cheeks. Her eyebrows are a bit odd, severe and dark, but her eyes are friendly and expressive. There are bags under her eyes; not surprising with kids and a full time job, but she looks good and not unwell.
The hours pass pretty quickly and it’s soon approaching one AM,
“You guys; we’re closing in a few minutes.” The barmaid announces to us in a friendly tone with a smile, “Sorry to break up the party love birds but it’s time to go.” I laugh, and she does too. It’s a girly little giggle and it gives away how much she’s had to drink. I stand up and offer her my hand, tugging her out of her chair with relative ease. I link her arm with mine and we head outside,
“I’ve had a lovely night.” She half-whispers to me once we are stood by the taxi rank,
“Me too!” I reply steadily, “I’ve really enjoyed meeting you. Maybe we could do this again soon?”
“Oh yes, please! Definitely.” She replies, and then hiccups. I smile at her and lean down toward her slowly to kiss. The evening has been a success, “Can we get a selfie?” She asks, “My friends won’t believe I actually came out and met someone if I don’t.” We both laugh and pose, and I take the opportunity to take a photo myself as well, since she already brought it up. I begin to say goodbye and promise to be in contact soon, I turn to leave and move extra slowly, I don’t really want to go home, “Wait!” She exclaims, and I turn to look at her. She looks nervous and unsure, but she takes a deep breath and begins to speak, “Why don’t we carry the night on at my place?”

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#63 – Honey, the kids came home!

Well dear readers, here is another Friday update for you all! We’re on week 63 of our experiment. The aim of the game? Get 100 women to instigate first date sex. The rules? No prompting, suggesting or hinting – It must be 100% their choice. The reason? The glory!
This week I met up with ‘Anna’, a 32 year old divorcee, who I met online. Recently single, she was new to the online game and oh boy did I use that to my advantage.
I’d give our encounter a solid 6/10! If I’m honest boys; if you don’t mind the chub then I’d give Anna a go – she was PHENOMINAL in bed. Lack of self-confidence and eagerness to make a good impression? Killer combination!
I’d take her back to a hotel though boys; you don’t want the nasty surprise that I got on my way out this morning – her ex on the doorstep with the kids. AWKWARD!
Here’s the usual picture proof for your enjoyment. As usual; if you see anyone you think is right for the game – get your recommendations sent over pronto!