So, it turns out Audi is more of an Audi than I first imagined. In that I mean he was fun to ride.. wait, NONE OF THAT HAPPENED.. he was smooth and sleek and somewhat sexy if I'm completely honest. He DID mention the words "with cash" again, in which case I dismissed it with a "you've already told me that" kind of wave.
I also realised why he didn't pick me up, because, men don't listen.
So the whole (TWO) bus rides there I was thinking to myself "this is fucking VDAY! I'm sweating all my make up off in the 40 degree heat when he could've picked me up in his "with cash" from my front door and we could've driven IN AIR CONDITIONING to our selected destination.. WTF"
So the last time I said "I don't own a car" he must've been looking at my breasts. Which is kind of ok, because they are sort of nice. Because you see, I am more of a Bridget Jones than a Kate Moss. I have mountains, not mosquito bites. Although I'm trying to turn into a Kate Moss which is why I'm currently using her mantra: "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels". And clearly it works! Because this is Kate Moss we're talking about, not Bridget.
But back to the Audi that I didn't ride.
We went to McDonalds.
OK OK that's not fair, we didn't go there for the main course, we went there for dessert. But still, had someone have said "hey B, on V Day GUESS WHERE YOU'LL BE GOING?" You can be your sweet ass I wouldn't have guessed McDonalds. Especially when Audi talks about paying "with cash" every second sentence. Big Mac "with cash" please. Although I suppose he has paid for every meal I've ever eaten with him (2 dates worth! it's not a large shopping list mk?)sand the Sundae's. 2, with chocolate. $3.50.
Can we add the bus fairs to my total?
So I'm going to cut the guy some slack, because at least he makes me laugh. And he did feel bad when he found out I caught a bus and remembered that he didn't remember I already said I don't drive. And even if most of my laughing is from Audi making references to my "girlfriends" (read: breasts) more times than I can count.. on BOTH hands. THATS A HANDFUL. Har. Har. Geddit?
- B
Ps. Remind me to tell you about Taxi and the Hotel.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Valentine's Day.
What better day than Valentines Day to start a blog about how much my dating life sucks! MMMK. Yes, you'd think after reading that first sentence that I'd be a spinster cynic like Bridget Jones (hence the blog title reference) sitting around in her fluffy pink PJ's sobbing the words to "All By Myself".
*Disclaimer: Never done that FYI
But wait, it's not Valentines Day just yet. It's tomorrow. *puts the wine away* And for the record, I do not have fluffy pink PJ's. They're boxer shorts. With hearts on them. And they're pink. BUT NOT FLUFFY! See the difference?
So! Where to begin. My friends (I have some) seem to think my dating life is worth blogging about, and who am I to argue! My friends are right about things almost all of the time. Except when they're not. But my stories of broken hearts (mine, mainly) make them laugh instead of conjouring up feelings of pity towards me - or so I'm told (probs BOTH amirite?)
Maybe tomorrow. ON VALENTINES DAY. Fark.
Speaking of which, I do have a date for that. Miracle. Except it's a date I definitely should not have said yes to. For the 1 and only following reason:
It's with Audi.
Audi mentioned that he owned one (and bought one, "with cash") about 284,827 times. In the space of a few hours. Now, if you're pretty good at math, that equals STUPIDLY RIDICULOUS AMOUNTS. And so this date ended with him hailing a bus (WHERE'S THE AUDI NOW BROTHA), not looking at me and saying "see ya Dude" to the general direction of anywhere-but-me.
He called me yesterday, and said "I apologise for not texting or calling to say what a nice time I had" and I respond with "That's ok, I don't care" (too harsh too soon?) and he's a bit taken aback, and continues with "we should do something for valentines day" (really DUDE, should we?) and I simply say "really?" he says "yes" (you can tell I'm not into this, right?) and so I agree, for some unknown reason, to meet near him for Valentines Day lunch.
WHY DO GUYS ALWAYS ASK ME TO MEET THEM CLOSEST TO THEM? Where's the man that says "where do you live? can we meet in the middle? would that be more convenient for you?" I'll tell you what's convenient, the AUDI that's not being used to pick me up! Now don't get me wrong, I am not some stuck up prissy princess who demands you open the door for me, but simply geographic courtesy would not go astray.
So despite his "with cash" Audi, it would not surprise me if my Valentines Day meal consisted of a McValentine Burger (yes I'd like fries with that).
Because let's face it, the guy clearly has no idea. And I didn't even tell you the half of it (again, if you're good at maths, that's about NOT VERY MUCH AT ALL)
- B
*Disclaimer: Never done that FYI
But wait, it's not Valentines Day just yet. It's tomorrow. *puts the wine away* And for the record, I do not have fluffy pink PJ's. They're boxer shorts. With hearts on them. And they're pink. BUT NOT FLUFFY! See the difference?
So! Where to begin. My friends (I have some) seem to think my dating life is worth blogging about, and who am I to argue! My friends are right about things almost all of the time. Except when they're not. But my stories of broken hearts (mine, mainly) make them laugh instead of conjouring up feelings of pity towards me - or so I'm told (probs BOTH amirite?)
Maybe tomorrow. ON VALENTINES DAY. Fark.
Speaking of which, I do have a date for that. Miracle. Except it's a date I definitely should not have said yes to. For the 1 and only following reason:
It's with Audi.
Audi mentioned that he owned one (and bought one, "with cash") about 284,827 times. In the space of a few hours. Now, if you're pretty good at math, that equals STUPIDLY RIDICULOUS AMOUNTS. And so this date ended with him hailing a bus (WHERE'S THE AUDI NOW BROTHA), not looking at me and saying "see ya Dude" to the general direction of anywhere-but-me.
He called me yesterday, and said "I apologise for not texting or calling to say what a nice time I had" and I respond with "That's ok, I don't care" (too harsh too soon?) and he's a bit taken aback, and continues with "we should do something for valentines day" (really DUDE, should we?) and I simply say "really?" he says "yes" (you can tell I'm not into this, right?) and so I agree, for some unknown reason, to meet near him for Valentines Day lunch.
WHY DO GUYS ALWAYS ASK ME TO MEET THEM CLOSEST TO THEM? Where's the man that says "where do you live? can we meet in the middle? would that be more convenient for you?" I'll tell you what's convenient, the AUDI that's not being used to pick me up! Now don't get me wrong, I am not some stuck up prissy princess who demands you open the door for me, but simply geographic courtesy would not go astray.
So despite his "with cash" Audi, it would not surprise me if my Valentines Day meal consisted of a McValentine Burger (yes I'd like fries with that).
Because let's face it, the guy clearly has no idea. And I didn't even tell you the half of it (again, if you're good at maths, that's about NOT VERY MUCH AT ALL)
- B
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