This weeks listography is being hosted by Typecast and the theme is 5 worst dates.
God this could have been MADE for me, I've had a few shockers.
Let me tell you all ......
Ok, first of all I need to say that most ok some of them were entirely the fault of my friend Maggie. Either being drunk and wandering off so I got bored and started chatting to anyone and every one OR giving me misinformation about the blokes I chatted to whilst I was drunk.
Either way she was usually involved and ALWAYS to blame ;)
1) I took a phone number whilst I was drunk in charge of a pair of crutches (having broken my kneecap whilst drunk and looking for Maggie!). A few days later I made the mistake of asking Maggie if I should phone him, I didn't have a CLUE what he was like.
SHE SAID YES!!!
He turned up in a jumper he'd knitted himself, drank coke and pineapple juice in the same glass and SNIFFED, the one bodily function I cannot tolerate (personally I'd rather he broke wind!). Because of the bloody crutches I couldn't get home under my own steam. This was before mobiles were commonly in use so I had him escort me to the nearest phone box which took bloody forever and had to talk in code to a friend who assumed I was drunk for ages before convincing them to come and pick me up!
2) Maggie and I (and you Bev!) went to a night club in Andover called the G Spot, I shit you not! nb 'I shit you not' is an expression I have picked up from some lovely Aussie bloggers I know. I love it. It's similar to the UK I kid you not but slightly more descriptive (I'm always looking for ways to expand my vocabulary:).
Anyway, as the vodka disappeared we devised a game (ok, I devised a game). The night club was a kind of hexagon shape, lots of corners and I decided we should see who could collect the most men's phone numbers. So I circulated stopping to chat at each corner. Having secured a phone number I then told each of them to stay right where they were as I needed the loo and Id be straight back. Then I moved on to the next corner.
Well, (slightly modestly) I won the game although I'm not really sure that anyone else was playing!!!
I went home armed with my phone numbers. A week later I was sent up to the area with work and it involved an overnight stay. Now one of the blokes had been quite nice so I thought Id give him a call. Trouble is I couldn't remember which one it was. In steps Maggie, 'it was that one for sure' she said picking one of the phone numbers.
So I called him.
I swear to god I'd never seen this bloke before in my life! He wore a nylon shirt with big sweat patches under his arms. As the evening wore on the static built up in the shirt and he CRACKLED! If you'd turned the lights off he's have glowed in the dark! He bought me a half dead rose from one of those rose sellers that wander round bars and thought that was his ticket to take me back to my hotel for afters. I SHIT YOU NOT!!!
3) I used to have an on off relationship when I was much younger, in fact, we still keep in touch but just as friends.
Now this particular 'friend' used to have another friend who ran corporate weekends on Exmoor. Lots of mental office types let loose with guns and stuff getting pissed up in the pub ect. Well, we used to spend quite a lot of time down there when these weekends were going on. One night we were all at the pub which was a mile or so from the manor house where the weekends were held. There must have been 20 of us. For some reason the transport that was suppose to arrive to take us all back failed to appear so we decided to walk. I cant remember what time of year it was but it was bloody cold!
Once outside the pub M (not Maggie this time:) uttered the immortal words 'I know a short cut'.
The short cut was over the fields in the pitch black with no torch and a load of (no offense) pissed as farts Hooray Henrys. There was also a dyke (water filled ditch) at the bottom of the first field. We lost a couple of them there, a few more negotiating the barbed wire fence and two or three climbing the 6ft wall that surrounded the house and had no access into the damned field!
4) When I first started dating my ex he lived in a small village where to be perfectly honest, they didn't get out much and used to make their own entertainment ie sleeping with the neighbours wife, cow or ass ..
Well, my ex wasn't a local but (unknown to me) he had embrased this philosopy wholeheartedly with a neighbours wife a few months previously.
He took me to the local which was a scary place at the best of times 'The Black Nun' or some such name. The neighbours wife was there and was none to happy to see him roll up with me. Then the neighbour who had only recently found out about their activities turned up. I still had no idea what was going on but it was pretty obvious by the way my ex and his friends stood between me and them that things could turn ugly.
We made our escape out the back way while they were distracted by the bar staff with free cheesy puffs. When we eventually stopped running he turned to kiss me on the cheek forgetting he still had a fag in his mouth and nearly set fire to my hair and left a perfectly round burn on my cheek!
5) God, which to choose ...
One of the occasion where I seemed to jinx cars so they wouldn't start/ open or the alarm wouldn't switch off?
The one where I broke my arm?
The one who I thought was a naturalist until he showed me his holiday pics!!!
The one who spent the entire date slagging off his ex and spitting everytime he mentioned her name?
The one (ok ones!) where I was mistaken for a hooker (TOTALLY undeserved).
The one where I laughed so hard there was a real danger of my pelvic floor giving way?
The one who bored me so much I actually fell asleep when he went to the loo?
I don't know, you choose :)