Both she and Louise had received messages, but none from anyone they were interested in. Louise had disregarded the messages without even stopping to think about the bigger picture, while Jodie felt she owed the men some sort of acknowledgement. She sent each of them a short message stating she wasn’t interested ‘at this time.’
“You’re a sap, my dear,” Louise had told her when they met up at lunchtime in their favourite sandwich shop. “Do you think giving them a sense of hope is such a good idea?”
“I’m sure they’ve sent out messages to women other than me.” Jodie prayed this was true. She couldn’t quite see herself with a guy who got attached after a three-minute meeting and would send out one message to just one person.
~*~
The screen of the laptop was aggravating Jodie’s bright green eyes as she read through the speed dating post and the notes she’d typed up after Louise had given her approval.
~*~*~
28 June 2012 – Romance with a Hint of Scrutiny
(Louise chose the title)
The room wasn’t just full of geeks and mummy’s boys, who were what Louise and I had expected thanks to the stereotypes of the men who attend these events (see my notes taken on the night below). Some of the guys were actually okay.
Before it even started, I was very tempted not to walk into the pub, but Louise was all forceful and made me. I’m glad she did, and I had a lot of fun. I won’t bore you with the details of every single guy who spoke to me, that’s what my notes are for, but there are two stand-out conversations I’ll try to relay as best as I can remember.
Conversation One:
Phil: “Hi, I’m Phil.” *points to sticker*
Me: “Hi, I’m Jodie.” *nervous grin*
Phil: *cuts to the chase* “Is your underwear a matching set?”
Me: “What?” *very confused and expression of slight shock*
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
Phil: “I’m kind of conducting research into women on the pull. It fascinates me, the amount of effort that’s put into ensnaring a mate.” *smarmy grin*
Me: “Make you feel a bit redundant does it? No longer cock of the walk because women have taken the initiative away from the men? Have you even considered the fact that one reason women make an effort could be because it makes THEM feel good, rather than because they are trying to ensnare some unsuspecting, defenceless man?”
At this point, I was ready to ring the bloody bell myself just so he would piss off away from me before I knocked his shiny veneers down his throat. I was thankful that I didn’t need to, as time had already run out. I was in so much shock from Phil’s comments that the next fella had to snap his fingers in front of my face to get my attention.
Conversation Two:
Me: *looks at his sticker* “Hi, John.”
John: *mumbles* “Hi.”
M: “So, tell me about yourself . . .”
J: “Um . . . I’m thirty, I work in the city . . .” *takes nervous sip from his bottle of poncy beer*
M: “That’s . . . err . . . Nice.” *gulp* “So, you live locally?”
J: “Not too far. Me and Mum co-own a house about ten minutes away.” *alarm bells*
M: “Oh . . . that’s great.”
J: “Er . . . so, what do you do for a living?”
M: “I’m a legal secretary.”
*tumbleweeds*
At that point I’d given up the will to live and knocked back almost a whole large glass of wine. We sat in silence until the bell rang again.
You may have guessed that the two conversations I have posted are the worst of about twenty I had that night. I just wanted to highlight what a lot of women (me included) picture whenever anyone mentions speed dating. Would I go again? Probably, but I have a few messages to follow up on first, and a few of my own to send out.
~*~*~
Jodie didn’t publish the post straight away, as she knew that Louise wanted to add her own experiences to it rather than posting separately. Once she closed that tab, she opened the website for Harmonic Speed Dating, the company that had arranged the event, to check whether she had received any messages.
An hour later, she was all caught up. She’d replied in the positive to two messages and had sent out five of her own; that deserved a long soak in a hot bath. There was nothing left to do but wait.
Chapter Four: Bowling for Soup
“Louise, I have a date tomorrow night. What should I wear?” Jodie’s voice was calm, belying the nerves she felt. She’d received a response to one of her messages from a man called Paul who, if her notes were correct — and they almost always were — she remembered as tall and broad-shouldered with the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen, away from a Kemp brother. They’d chatted as if they’d known each other for years, and she remembered being disappointed when the bell rang out, signalling for the men to move on. She hadn’t wanted to stop talking to him and had felt a little jealous at the thought of him speaking to another woman.
Paul had remembered liking her ― or so he’d said in his message ― and had suggested they meet for dinner and drinks. Without hesitation, she’d said yes, and almost a week later, it was panic stations.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t worry, you’ll look luscious as ever.”
As Louise hung up, Jodie prayed that her friend wouldn’t add this to the blog post later in the week. Up until now, neither of them had made fun of the other, which was strange, but there was always a first time for everything.
Louise arrived armed with a bottle of wine and plenty of enthusiasm. She handed the bottle to Jodie then stalked straight into the bedroom and flung open the wardrobe doors. After pouring out some of the wine, Jodie found her friend perusing her clothes, hand on hips and humming to herself.
“I’ve already ruled out these three dresses. I think you should wear jeans and a fancy top with those boots.” Louise took the glass Jodie offered as she indicated the clothes she was discussing. “Where are you off to, again?”
Jodie groaned. “Bowling . . .” She couldn’t believe that someone in his mid-to-late twenties was taking her bowling as if they were teenagers.
“Really? Oh, good God.” Louise snorted as she tried not to choke on her wine. She laughed, probably at the idea of Jodie in bowling shoes that had been worn by God knew how many other people. “Jeans and boots, then.” She delved into Jodie’s tops to find the right one.
Jodie stood there watching her best friend muttering away to herself about, “. . . just the right amount of cleavage.”
~*~*~
10 July 2012 – Bowling for Soup
Jodie went on her first date last night with one of the guys from the speed dating gig. He took her . . . bowling. I almost peed my pants when she told me. Seriously, bowling is something teenagers, established couples, or families do on a night out. Not people who are hoping for a second date.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Paul arranged for them to meet up at Starbucks (pretentious much?). Could this date scream “awkward teenager” any louder? If it had been suggested to me, I would have told him to stuff it up his . . . well, but it wasn’t.
Anyway, off she trotted to meet him, looking gorgeous, and he never showed up. Can you believe it? Paul wasn’t late. He just never showed up.
Now, many of us have been stood up before (just check my post from 26 Feb for my own experience), but Jodie never had. Ever. Until now. Unlike most people, who would have gone home and had a glass of something alcoholic and a high-carb microwave meal, Jodie walked into the nearest pub and went on the pull.
Within twenty minutes, she met James: Irish, tall, and VERY good looking (she got a sneaky picture for me when he wasn’t looking – almost jet black hair, piercing blue eyes, and did I say tall – I LOVE tall men). Also, he must have had most of the Blarney Stone in his pocket from what she said about his charm, but hey, we all need outrageous flattery once in a while, huh? (By the way, you may be able to tel
l that I’m a little envious of Jodie right now).
So, they chat away for most of the night. When I say most of the night, I mean they got kicked out of the pub by the poor girl who was trying to clean up and go home. Now, Jodie isn’t a big fan of one-night stands as you know, and last night was no different. For all of James’s loaded hints, she never gave in (and she wanted to, she told me). Instead, she gave him her number and told him to call her. Which he did THIS LUNCHTIME!!! She’s off, out again, on Wednesday. Lucky bitch.
She made me check my messages from the speed dating today . . . I had seven of them. Colour me impressed, and a little bemused. I responded to a couple I had a vague memory of as being pretty decent to talk to and a little easy on the eye. I’m meeting one guy, Steve, for coffee after work tomorrow. Will let you all know how that goes.
~*~*~
Jodie read Louise’s post, giggling while she ate her dinner. She loved her friend’s no-nonsense style. Although she never minced her words or held back, it was never Louise’s intent to hurt with her honesty, either, and that shone through in all the blog posts she’d written.
Jodie had been just as surprised at meeting James Branson as Louise had been. When she’d been stood up by Paul, she had gone into the pub ― not on the pull as Louise had made out, but to save a little face before going back home for a night in front of the telly. She decided to hit the big stuff and had ordered a double vodka and orange when James had bumped her whilst playing a game of pool. Since he hadn’t been playing very well, he was happy to throw the game and flirt instead.
When the poor girl behind the bar had to beg them to leave so she could go home, James had walked her to the nearest taxi rank, hinting about “coffee.”
As much as they had hit it off, she didn’t do first-date sex. She hadn’t told him that; she’d just decided to play a little hard to get. She did give him her number, though, and a goodnight kiss — or three — before hopping into a cab, leaving him wanting more.
Chapter Five: Take a Chance
“Jodie and James, eh? You sound like a dodgy celeb couple.” Louise snickered while they sat in the pub, waiting for their lunch to arrive.
“Oh, shut up. We do not.” Jodie got a case of the warm fuzzies at the mention of James’s name but had managed to hide the fact from her friend. They’d met up once more, and he seemed to understand her desire to take things slowly. She’d never said so aloud, but even so, he wasn’t pressuring her into meeting all the time or into taking things further.
“Oh, ‘we’ already?” Louise couldn’t help but tease. “Next you’ll be too busy buying curtains for your new place with him to spend time with me. I’ll be the old crone at your wedding . . .” She couldn’t carry on speaking through her laughter.
“Piss off, you idiot. We’ve been in each other’s company less than a handful of times. I wouldn’t start booking wedding venues.”
“Not just yet . . .”
Jodie slapped her friend’s arm none too gently to shut her up when their food arrived.
“Enough about me. How did the meeting with Steve Alden go?” A grin spread across Louise’s face, which Jodie knew meant just one thing. “Already?” She was incredulous.
“What? You know how it goes when a man and a woman meet up, are attracted to each other . . .”
“But you just met for coffee.”
“Coffee soon became dinner and drinks.” Louise took a sip of her wine to wash down some of her food.
“So, are you seeing him again?”
“I doubt it.”
Typical Louise. Sleeps with a guy on the first date, and then she loses interest. Jodie had always thought she liked the chase more than anything.
“What’s wrong with this one?”
“There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with him . . .” Jodie waited for the inevitable “but” that she knew would follow. “But he just seems a little clingy.”
“How can you tell he’s clingy? You spent one night with him.”
“Er. . .” Louise started to giggle. “Steve cried when I got dressed to leave after we’d finished. He said that women never stay over.”
“Why didn’t you just stay the night? I know you; you like snuggles and wake up sex.”
“His flat was mingin’. It was filthy.”
Jodie could almost see Louise’s skin crawling from the memory.
“It’s not funny. There were dirty plates and cups all over the place, and I think he was trying to cultivate penicillin in some of them. It was horrid, and the smell? Jesus, I think the stench in the air took off a layer of skin when I first walked in.”
Jodie couldn’t stop laughing at the mental images. Even though Louise was the scattiest person Jodie had ever met, she was the poster child for OCD when it came to her flat.
“What excuse did you use when you left?”
“I didn’t. I was so disgusted, I couldn’t think straight and just blurted out the truth, then ran like a bat out of hell.” That intensified Jodie’s laughter even more. “It’s not funny, Jode. My skin was crawling. I had to have a shower as soon as I got in. It’s such a shame, ‘cause he was lovely, and he knew what he was doing between th- oh, God. The sheets.” A horrified look crossed her face as she scratched at her bare arm.
“Well . . . that’ll teach you not to be such a trollop.”
Louise just rolled her eyes and ignored her friend, just as she did every time Jodie teased her.
“So, if he contacts you, you won’t be seeing him again, then?”
“I don’t know. I might do; I’ll just make sure I never go back to his place. But as I told him the truth, I doubt he’d be interested in meeting up again, do you?” Jodie knew Louise would be quietly hoping Steve would contact her again, since he was just her type. He was very tall and had dark hair, dark eyes, and an olive complexion. Lou wouldn’t be able to resist.
~*~*~
18 July 2012 – Take a Chance. . .
So — I saw James again, but more about that in a while. First, I need to tell you about the second meeting between Lou and Steve. That’s the first time I’ve known her to meet up with someone after she’s decided not to see them again. Under normal circumstances, when Louise decides she won’t see someone again, she sticks to it. He must have been pretty special in bed if she not only took his call, but also agreed to meet for a drink. This time, she’d learnt from her mistakes and took him to her place. In fact, they spent most of the weekend holed up in her cosy little flat. I didn’t hear from her for almost two days, which is unheard of.
When I did hear from Louise, she was acting like a giddy sixteen-year-old. It was apparent that Steve had taken notice of what she’d said. He was now in the process of sorting his flat out, but he also wants to cook dinner for her to say “thank you” one night next week. She’s going to inspect his handiwork the day before, and if it meets her standards, she is going to suggest that he invite me and James to join them. This scares me somewhat.
James . . . the marvellous James took me for a wonderful dinner at this tiny little steak house that I never knew existed. The food was amazing, the atmosphere was perfect, and we got on well. He told me about life growing up just outside Cork, while I told him about never having lived anywhere but London. We talked about our Uni days and careers. James found my being a legal secretary fascinating ― I don’t know why, since he works in aviation. He works for Boeing doing something . . . important. I can’t remember what it is he does. It all sounded a bit scary. I mean, one little mistake . . .
*shudder*
Anyway, James was fantastic, the food was amazing, but there seemed to be no
. . . spark this time. I just didn’t feel very comfortable, and I don’t know why. I was surprised, considering that we’d gotten on fine at our last two meetings and we’d been texting or emailing pretty much all the time. It just felt forced ― to me, at least. James didn’t seem to notice that there was anything wrong, or if he did, he kept it to himself and put on a good show.
&nbs
p; Things seemed to get a little more relaxed once we’d finished eating and decided to take a walk along the embankment. Maybe it made a difference being out in the open air and not surrounded by lots of other couples who seemed much more at ease with each other. As we began to walk to the tube station, I started to consider inviting James to the flat to see where things went. Just as I opened my mouth to mention it, his phone rang, and he had to dash off because of some kind of emergency at work. So he left me a little breathless and a lot turned on from his goodbye kiss. Git. Looking back, I should have sent a text to him to read when he finished work.
Next time, I will. I promise.
~*~*~
Chapter Six: Back in the Game
Jodie spent the weekend taking a break from the computer and catching up with some reading. She had a pile of books beside her bed that she’d been meaning to make a dent in for a while. Although she didn’t read as often as she would have liked anymore, when a book hooked her from the get-go, she would devour it in a matter of hours.
With her phone switched to silent — she never could turn it off altogether — and her iPod on shuffle with the volume on low, she spent the entire weekend seated in the squashy armchair by the front room window in her pyjamas, doing nothing other than reading. The only time she got up was to either go to the bathroom or to make a fresh cup of tea or a round of toast.
It had been so long since she had done something she saw as decadent that she felt a little guilty when Louise let herself into the flat looking for her.
“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Louise’s voice sounded a little frantic as she stared at Jodie. “And why are you still in your pyjamas?”
Right Click, Love Page 2
