a not so perfect date

After bumping into and meeting The Priest (formally referred to as Jude) at The Court while not-on-a-date with Brett, we made plans to go on our first official date. The Priest chose the venue – Steves (a great wine bar in Nedlands) and I would meet him at his house and we would go together.

I got ready for the date and headed off on my motorbike to his house, behind the church. Thats right folks, he lived at the Rectory. I pulled up in his driveway, next to the construction site that was his church being rebuilt. This part of the story is better told from the perspective of The Priest, who delighted in telling any and all about the exciting arrival of his date that night, it goes a little something like this:

I heard a sound and headed outside knowing that my date had arrived. There he was, sitting atop a motorbike, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Very manly. He takes his helmet off and I see the tattoo on his neck. Very sexy.  I walk down to greet him and… with a wave and a very gay tone I am greeted with ‘Hallooooo’, shattering, at least, the manly side of the illusion.

Of course the above story sounds better in person, ’cause then you hear the way I say halloooo.

Revelations

This story continues on right after the events depicted in Precipice (and related posts), if you haven’t read them yet, I would strongly recommend you have a look, at the very least, ‘I thought we were on a date, but…‘

The song ended, and as we came up for air, Brett declared ‘Right, I’m off. Seeya!’ and he left. No-one could blame the guy. He had spent all night questioning the date that he was on, citing my hickie as a reason for doubting that we were in fact on a date. His doubt cemented by the fact that Jude started making out with me right in front of him – remember that in my mind we were never on a date.

I immediately felt bad when Brett left. Not because I had lured him out on a date with a hickie and then made out with another guy. No. I felt bad because I could understand how Brett might have been feeling.

Jude wasted no time in flirting with me some more, dancing right up against me. Kissing me. I allowed myself to be caught up in the moment with Jude. He took me over to introduce me to his friends that he was with that night.

We spent some of the time chatting, and then the topic of what we each did for work came up. I explained that I was a Public Servant and then he didn’t want to admit what he did for work. He said he didn’t want to tell me as he didn’t want me to judge. Interesting… What kind of job would someone be ashamed of?

Culmination

The series of events that lead me to be on the precipice of change, on the surface, or individually, are all small and insignificant events. Nothing stands out as a major event. Nothing on their own would make one look back and say yep, it was then, that moment. That’s when everything changed.

I had started out that week, certain of the direction of my life. Single, very happily single. Dating. Hook-ups. Catching up with friends. Sleeping alone. This was how I pictured things for a long time to come. This is how I wanted things, for a long time to come.

I look back on the culmination of these events. Catching my stride in dating on Grindr. Meeting Jude, who couldn’t make up his mind between coffee and sex. That damn taxi and Brett, who made it clear the first night that we were just friends. Getting that giant hickie – my tramp stamp – and how that made Brett question being on a date. Finally, meeting Jude in person.

Elephant

Damien Rice has seen me through so much since I discovered his music, and has not let me down in this time of need.

Elephant is my perfect break-up song.

to really get a feel for the pain and emotion in this song, follow the YouTube link, lyrics are after the break.

Precipice

Back in October last year, I had a most interesting week. Consisting of meeting a new friend, two hook-ups, finding myself on a ‘date’ that I didn’t know about and a chance encounter that would turn out to change the course of my life for the following year. This was a week that will be remembered for a very long time, and a year that will have a lasting impact on me as a person.

I am reminded of an episode of How I Met Your Mother, where the lead character talks about the culmination of small events, seemingly insignificant or routine. It is the small events that lead us to a single point where we find ourselves on the precipice of significant change.

This change saw me in a relationship, one that I clearly didn’t want and stated so right from the start. It was a relationship that would bring out traits within me that I am not proud of, one that would destroy my self confidence as a sexual being and one that would ultimately end up causing me a great deal of pain.

This time, it was different. The hurt was different. Worse. I found myself questioning the inner strength that I always believed to hold within.

It would be so easy to slip back into past habits of swearing off relationships and making a firm choice to be single. For good. Only sticking to it this time. Only I know that being single for ever isn’t a fate that I want for me. I want to find love again, and to be loved in return. Equally.

I have much to say about the past year of my life. Stories that are both good and bad. I hope that the journey you take with me in the coming posts (all back dated in the interests of timelines and continuity) is one that, at the very least, will interest you enough to keep reading.

This multi part story begins with ‘Two dates, one night‘.
An introduction to Jude in ‘Coffee? Sure, or…‘.
An important moment occurred in ‘a not so brief moment‘.
A mark was left in ‘concealer, foundation, toothpaste‘.
A chance meeting while out with friends in ‘I thought we were on a date, but…‘
Final thoughts in ‘Culmination‘

I thought we were on a date, but…

Image courtesy of secretdiaryofarookierollergirl

Have you ever been out with a ‘friend’ and suddenly found yourself on a date? This has happened to me twice. Clearly I don’t learn from past events <cheeky grin>

The time in question started with spare tickets for roller derby. I put a post on Facebook and asked around amongst my friends. Not much interest, so I decided to ask Brett, who I had met recently. ‘I have some spare tickets for roller derby, did you want to come?’ 

Brett had been out drinking on the day of roller derby. He met us slightly tipsy and with booze spilt and still wet on his shirt. Classy might not be the word to use here, but one thing is for sure, Brett is a fun guy to be around.

We made our perilous trip to Maidevale, grabbed a drink and mingled about watching the roller derby.

concealer, foundation, toothpaste

Concealer, foundation, toothpaste. None of them really worked. Instead I had to wear a scarf to work. In November. In summer! In all honesty, the scarf drew almost as much attention as the giant hickie that I was failing to conceal on my neck.
I took it off.
My colleagues were shocked… initially. They were al getting quite used to my antics of late.

How though, does someone in their late (very late) 20s get a hickie? How… how… teenager!

One night while cursing around on Grindr, I was contacted by a cute and very buff flight attendant, Roger. Having gained a little confidence in the art of Grinding, I quickly said ‘yes’ to the offer of meeting up, with the very probable intention of hooking -up. We had both already starting drinking wine home alone, but soon enough, Roger arrived, open bottle of wine in his bag.

a not so brief moment

I first met Brett for drinks in Leederville. We had, of course, first chatted on Grindr for a short time. This was another of those meet just as friends. I never had plans on hooking-up with Brett. That said, I figured if the night went well and we clicked in that way, I wouldn’t say no to the evening progressing. Brett was easy to chat with and both the conversation and alcohol flowed quite steadily. I had recently been introduced to the wonderful sport of roller derby and was taking much delight in explaining the details to Brett.

When it came time to leave The Garden, I stood outside with Brett stuck in one of those moments of uncertainty. The ones that seem to last ever so much longer than they actually do. The night had gone well, I was open to the idea of it not ending yet. Did Brett feel the same? Quickly tiring of the moment lasting so long, I was on the verge of asking Brett if he wanted to come back to my place, words forming and about to be spoken… then a cab pulled up and Brett spoke before me and exclaimed he would take the cab home.

The moment ended.

We said our good byes and thanked each other for a nice evening. Brett left in the cab, and I strolled the short walk home. At least I knew that Brett and I would definitely only be friends. Clearly Brett was not interested in anything more. What else was I expected to think?

A cab pulling up, perfectly timed. It was one of those seemingly insignificant events. That single moment shaped my thoughts on Brett. Moulded my mind about the kind of friendship that we would have. It would factor in, largely, the next time that Brett and I would see each other. I didn’t know at the time just how significant that moment would be.

It does make me wonder what might have been different if the cab was just a second later, or didn’t even pull up at all.

Coffee? Sure, or…

Not everyone on Grindr is after sex. There are plenty that are on just to meet as friends and some that are even looking for a LTR (long term relationship). I myself, was after only two things. Friends or sex, or any combination. <edit: wait does that make it three things?>

I first started chatting to Jude while his dad was visiting from back home in the UK. We hit it off quite well on Grindr and both said that we would like to meet in person, as friends. I asked Jude if he would like to meet up one night during the week and he said he would like to, only his dad was here and it was hard to get away.

We chatted on and off for the better part of the month, often at Jude’s initiation. Jude started to ask me if I wanted to meet up on a fairly regular basis – even though his dad was still here. I would say yes and offer a suggestion of a wine bar. Jude would always say he couldn’t make it out at night or for too long, you know, cause his dad was here.

So one day I asked for coffee. ‘How bout we just meet for coffee?’
‘Sure.’ he replied, ‘…or we could just meet for sex.’

Two dates, one night

After the hurt and damage caused by Big Red, and with the lingering hurt from The Ex, I was certain that a relationship was not something that I was looking for, wanted or would even entertain the idea of, should it present itself to me. Instead, I was content living the single life, which consisted of socialising with friends, and cruising Grindr for my next hook-up.

Finding more success with Grindr, I managed to double book myself one evening, well not quite double book, one engagement was meeting a guy only as friends, the other was definitely a hook-up.

The night started out with meeting up with Jackson. We had chatted for a bit on Grindr and decided to see if we would hit it off as friends. Jackson and I had quite different interests, for example, he was really into cars, whereas for me, when it comes to cars, foot goes down, car moves forward – <beep beep>. Still I thought it would be good to expand the social circle and add a bit of diversity. Next on the agenda was meeting Pete, at his house. For one thing. Sex. We really hadn’t chatted about much other than that.