“This was my big moment, finally. PROGRESS.”

I Think He's Gone Weird

I chugged back half of my pink gin and lemonade as I saw him walking outside. “Oh noooo!” I thought. I had no idea where we stood anymore, we were texting on and off, I was neither over him or under him. Before I had a chance to tell my guardian angel that I still presumed he’s a prick, we had made eye contact. I looked around subtly as he made his way over. Was there a supermodel standing behind me that I hadn’t noticed yet? Potentially. Was I about to nervous vomit up the cocktail sausages I had eaten at a party earlier? Probably. A few seconds later he was standing in front of me, he was so confident about it I half wondered if he was an illusion and I had officially lost the plot.

This was my big moment, finally. PROGRESS. It was now or never, I knew this night could end with us leaving together after months of chemistry. I was shaved, tanned and moisturised from head to toe. I had my favourite perfume drowning places that my good perfume should never have to venture to, my knickers were no bigger than a piece of dental floss and I had so much setting spray on my Huda Faux Filter was ready to last until the same time the following year.

Just as I was gazing like an idiot into the horizon of his fuckboy eyes, I realised that my dental floss knickers were a completely unnecessary discomfort for tonight. Two of his friends made their way over like a whirlwind, making basic small talk with us, obviously not realising I had been playing “Let’s Get It On” in my head for the past five minutes. Some minutes later, one left, but one stayed. I spent the next twenty minutes politely nodding to drunk conversation, I knew each moment was precious as I visualised a new underarm hair sprouting with each passing second. This was not my big moment, we wouldn’t be getting it on, I needed to get out.

The nerves disappeared, all the butterflies headed elsewhere, and he was giving me the “I knowwww!” eyes. I went home alone with my dental floss knickers, knowing very little about his bedroom and bloody everything about his mate’s entire work roster.

Share Post

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin