Wednesday, 17 March 2010

The Birthday Part 2

Three hours later and considerably poorer, I left the spa having been buffed, polished, scrubbed, massaged and rubbed so much that I glowed, which is almost unheard of for me.

Two double lattes and three phone calls (both Mr Big and Little Ms Matchmaker were running late) and I headed to the restaurant, where I sat alone waiting for them to arrive. A cheery Cuban waiter tried to raise my spirits with the offer of a complimentary drink, but instead I entertained myself with a bout of people watching.

I spotted three sugar daddies, complete with way, way too young trophy girlfriends and one cougar who looked like she couldn’t quite believe she was in the presence of such a young, beautiful boy (or should that be tender prey! ).

Trying my best not to stuff my face with entire contents of the bread basket, I decided that ‘grazing’ on some edame beans might do the trick. What should have been a discreet snack turned into mild carnage as my nervous hands lost control and I managed to misfire one bean from my mouth down my dress and two more to the adjacent table.

I had just finished fishing out the runaway edame bean down my dress, when Mr Big and Little Ms Matchmaker finally arrived in tandem, looking bashful and apologetic.

I gave Mr Big the once over. He was Austrian, short (well my height in heels!), sharp suited and wore glasses(apart from shaven heads, glasses are a big yes from me, on the right man of course!).

Mr Big took up residence beside me and between trying to attract the waiter’s attention, we chit-chatted. He was smart, charming, articulate, funny, with a cheeky little twinkle in his eye and unfortunately for me, was also suffering from a stinking cold.

He lasted for just over two hours, before he retired on a sicknote knockout (by this time his voice was pretty much gone and due to the appalling service of our waiter, he left without even tasting his much needed chicken soup!).

I really felt sorry for him. As we said goodbye, being the cheeky forthright minx that I am, I said I’d get his number and call him in the next few weeks. Before I had finished the sentence, he had slipped his card into to my hand and told me to make sure that I called.

When I got home there was an apologetic email confirming that he was no wimp and that the celebrations should reconvene next week when he was back on form. I smiled as I closed down my laptop. Arr the joy of the chase!

So did I like him? Yes, without the crunchy stomach feeling which I now know is no guarantee of how things will turn out. So it doesn’t matter how sensible I become (and those of you who have been following me since I started this blog will know, I was pretty silly and shallow when I started it)

I still want 'the real deal'. He doesn’t have to be 6ft, or loaded (would be nice, but is probably more trouble than its worth!) or picture perfect, he just has to be happy in himself and think that being with me isn’t a punishment.

Did I get what I wanted for my birthday. My big present…No ….but who knows what the rest of the year will bring !

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