Friends with Benefits (part 2)

Lucy has a 'date' with Peter, her new Friend With Benefits.

To find out how on earth a woman as utterly-crap-with-men as Lucy managed to bag herself an actual FWB, click here (this takes you back to the very beginning). Or click here to catch up on what happened last time.

Lucy and Peter have only met a few times, but already they've settled into an entirely practical arragement which is only nominally about Friendship and mostly just about the Benefits.

So when Peter texts and asks Lucy if he can take her out for lunch this time, she's a bit confused.  Does he want to actually take her on a date?  Or is he just hungry?

They meet on a Sunday.  That morning, in preparation, Lucy has been to the gym, washed her hair, and epilated her legs and bikini line.  For the uninitiated, this means using a device containing a rotating wheel of about a thousand pairs of sharp tweezers to violently rip each hair out by the root from the most sensitive part of her anatomy.  It sounds like a plane taking off and probably wouldn't be out of place in a torturer's toolkit.

This might make it sound as though Lucy is hard as nails (and yes, it fucking hurts), but honestly choosing to epilate her bikini line is mostly about laziness.

After The Ex left, and she was thrown back into the dating pool, Lucy worried about what she was supposed to do about her lady garden.  She came of age in an era where women were actually allowed to have body hair.  Back then, a bikini line was so-called because you only needed to remove the bits that peeked out around the edges of a substantial pair of bikini bottoms.  Certainly none of the men she dated in her 20s or early 30s ever commented or complained.

But in 2015 times had changed.  Women were going crazy with Hollywoods and Brazilians and Vajazzling and God Knows What Else that made Lucy deeply anxious.  Was this the sort of thing that single men were expecting now?  Would they run for the hills when she stripped off in front of them and they discovered that she had actual pubic hair?

She even consulted a couple of single male friends on the subject, who assured her that by the time a girl is getting her knickers off, the guy is probably so delighted he doesn't even notice.  So Lucy went back to her low-maintenance tactic of just grabbing the epilator once in a while and nipping out the strays around the edges.  It's far cheaper, less messy, and less time-consuming than going to get waxed.   Even if it does burn with the pain of a thousand knives.

So this is what she does the morning of her date with Peter.  Well, you've got to tidy up before inviting visitors in, don't you?

For the first time, Peter is punctual.  He bounds up the stairs like an enthusiastic puppy and gives her a proper, serious snog on the landing.  It's been a while since Lucy has had one of those; it makes her (and her lady bits) wish she hadn't agreed to go for lunch.  She'd much prefer to spend the restricted hours she has with Peter doing the sort of things she currently can't do with anyone else.

But he wants to take her for lunch, so lunch it is.

They head to a gastropub round the corner.  As you might expect, the menu is full of typical sturdy pub meals: burgers, Sunday roast, sausage and mash.  Lucy, who hasn't had any breakfast, is starving.  She's about to go for the roast before she realises that immediately after eating she is going to have to take all her kit off and get physical.  Don't they say you're not supposed to eat just before exercise?

This is a Dilemma. Yummy Sunday roast and a food baby, or salad and a flat stomach?

But Lucy's not really one to let anything get between her and food. Fuck it, she thinks, and orders the roast.

Over lunch, Peter asks her about how the dating is going.  Lucy finds this a bit odd.  Yes, they are supposed to be Friends as well as With Benefits, and certainly neither of them is under any illusion that this is an exclusive arrangement, but all the same... It feels a bit inappropriate to talk about other guys with a man whom she is about to take home and get frisky with.

"Why do you want to know so much?" she asks.  "Isn't this a bit weird?"
"Oh My God... is it?" Peter asks.  Lucy's noticed he says Oh My God a lot. "I just want to know how much longer I'm going to have you for before I lose you to someone else."
"Don't worry," she assures him.  "There's nothing on the horizon at the moment.  Of course if I did meet someone who was going to become a boyfriend, this would have to end.  I wouldn't sleep with more than one person at a time.  But you're safe for now, and for the foreseeable future for that matter. Is that ok?"
"Hundred Per Cent." Another of Peter's little catchphrases.
"If I did meet someone, would you be jealous?" she fishes.
"Actually... yes.  I would be jealous if you sleep with someone else and ditch me."

But he doesn't ask her not to.  So Lucy lets it go.  She doesn't want to be in a relationship with Peter anyway: he's the perfect fuck buddy, and she wants to preserve that easygoing, hassle-free arrangement for as long as possible.

She pops to the loo, and when she comes back he's requested and paid the bill.
Cute, she thinks.  Lucy likes it when a guy does that. No debates, no arguments, just decisive and chivalrous in one stroke.
It's also about bloody time.  Lucy would normally never sleep with a man before he's bought her dinner.  Things have been all about-face with Peter, but happily order is now restored.

They head back to hers, where Peter starts removing her clothes before the door has barely even shut behind them.  Lucy has to concentrate on holding her stomach in but the roast beef and potatoes are making it even trickier than usual.

But she has a cunning plan.  She kneels in front of him and gets busy with her mouth.   Guys like this - and the flattering angle will mean he won't be able to see her belly.  Lucy makes a big play of looking up, making eye contact, and pretending to be sexy.  Hopefully the distraction technique will do the trick.

It seems to work.  Peter responds perfectly, making appreciative noises and telling her how amazing she is.  Lucy has never been entirely sure about this, so it's nice to have reassurance.

Lucy's actually fairly ambivalent about giving blowjobs.  It's not exactly her favourite thing to do, but she doesn't mind as long as the guy has washed and trimmed.  The beauty of the arrangement with Peter is that because it's all planned, he always arrives fully prepared - no messy spontaneity or inconvenient surprises.  So she's happy to reward him with a little treat - he's been extremely generous in that department anyway, so it's only fair that she returns the favour.

He pushes her onto the bed and starts getting down to business.  But first he has a request.  He'd like to - just briefly - have a go without using protection.  Just for a moment, he says.  Just so he can feel the connection of skin on skin.

Lucy isn't a huge fan of condoms either.  To be fair, they have their uses - obviously the no-pregnancy/no-STI's thing is a big plus, and also they make sex a whole lot cleaner and tidier, which for a practical girl like Lucy is a great advantage.  But the issue is with the chafing.  Go at it for a while with a condom on and a girl can soon start to feel the sort of raw that would have a marathon runner reaching for the Vaseline.

So Peter's request is tempting - but it's also frightening.  Girls have it drummed into them from a young age that you can still get pregnant even if the guy doesn't, you know, finish.  And Lucy definitely doesn't want to get pregnant.  She also doesn't want to catch anything, and she doesn't know where else he's been.  Can you catch an STI from just a few seconds' condom-free penetration?  Probably.

It's a risk. But Lucy's a little fed up of always being well-behaved.  She's never done anything remotely naughty or dangerous - and she's thirty-fucking-eight. It's about time she found out what all the fuss is about.

So she lets him - just for a moment.  He's the first man to have done this since The Ex, and it feels gooooood.  But much as she's enjoying the connection, there's a problem.  The annoying little goody-two-shoes voice in her head - the one that always bloody ruins the fun - is nagging that she shouldn't be doing this.  

Lucy tries to tell the uptight little sissy to shut the fuck up, but as usual the preachy voice has already ruined whatever fun was to be had.  So Lucy stops Peter, reaches for the bedside drawer, and safety is restored.

He gets back down to business with renewed vigour.  If anything, a little too much vigour - after all, it's been a while for both of them so he's particularly energetic - and for a shorter guy Peter is surprisingly generously endowed (proving that you never can tell).  Lucy starts to find his enthusiastic pumping rather bruising.

Amir is short.  Lucy finds herself wondering if there's any correlation.  Probably shouldn't be thinking about Amir right now, though.

But it's too late. The moment is lost.  Now all she can do is wait for Peter to get to the end, hopefully as soon as possible before the chafing starts.  She starts making encouraging sexy noises, and in return Peter resumes his running commentary - a blow by blow description of what's going on punctuated with frequent 'Oh My God's.

This isn't how it's supposed to be.  Maybe Lucy is not cut out for the carefree FWB lifestyle after all.

To be continued...?

Friends with Benefits (part 1)

With all the goings-on with Al and Amir, you've probably forgotten all about Peter, the guy who works in radio who was only interested in Lucy for One Thing.

If you're new here (in which case, welcome!), or you'd like to refresh your memory, you can read from the beginning here.

Lucy is absolutely fine with their relationship being only about that One Thing.  Peter, as it turns out, is quite good at it, and certainly wasn't at the back of the queue when endowments were being handed out (if you know what I mean, nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more).   And since Lucy seems to spend her entire fucking life going on mediocre dates that never lead anywhere, or lusting after men that aren't interested, or going on promising dates with guys who then vanish before things can progress to the getting naked stage, it does help to have a safe, skilled pair of hands (and other body parts) to fall back on when she's got an itch that needs scratching.

So while she's waiting to see if things might go anywhere with first Al, and then Amir, she's stayed in touch with Peter.  Just in case everything goes tits up and she needs a consolation shag.  Hey, don't judge, we all have needs.

Peter is the perfect Friend With Benefits.  He's nice but definitely not future husband material, he's enthusiastic in bed, and when they're not together he leaves her alone until she calls on him.

Though sometimes Lucy thinks its a bit strange how completely he vanishes for weeks between hookups.  And when she chats to Lily about it, it occurs to her that maybe there's a reason for that.

Could it be that Peter isn't single after all?

As Lily points out, it's a bit suspicious.  For one thing, he always comes to Lucy's.  He says this is because he rented out his flat for a while and is currently staying with his mum until the tenancy expires - but what if it's actually because he has a wife at home?

Also, he only ever visits in the afternoon and is gone by 6 pm.  His excuse is that he works very early shifts and needs to go home and sleep - but again, what if that's a lie?

Lucy doesn't want Peter for herself, but she's totally Not Cool with shagging another woman's fella. So after a couple of weeks of silence, she decides to challenge him.

Is Peter actually annoyed that he spotted her on a dating app?  He's never made any suggestion that he'd like to be anything more than just fuck buddies, so it's a strange thing to bring up.

They arrange to meet the following weekend.  Lucy is looking forward to it - it's been ages since she had any action and she's starting to feel like she might have some sort of embarrassing public outburst for no reason if she doesn't get some physical contact soon.

So when he cancels on her a few days later, she's pretty fucking pissed off.

It's poor English (and spelling) like this that is exactly why Peter is definitely not husband material.

But Lucy is also intrigued by his comment that he may 'lose' her (not 'loose', Peter you fuckwit).  She's made it clear to him that she's dating other guys, and that if she meets someone their happy little arrangement will have to cease.  So could it be that Peter is getting just a teensy bit jealous?

Regular readers of this blog will correctly guess that the mate in question is none other than Amir, with whom Lucy is still embroiled in a weird situation where she has to carry on acting as though they are just good friends who gossip about their dating experiences, even though she would actually like nothing more than to be having those dating experiences with Amir himself.

'You do really respect me?' Lucy thinks. What the actual fucking fuck?  Does that really need to be said in this day and age - like there might be some doubt that a man could respect a woman just because she wants to have sex with him?!

Happily, a sarcastic tone of voice doesn't translate into texts:

However since Peter does respect her after all (Yay! Go Peter the Modern Man!), and since he swears he's definitely single, they rearrange the 'date'.  But this time Peter has an unusual request.  He wants to take Lucy out to lunch. 

This is odd, since until now their previous encounters have been rather functional.  Peter turns up at Lucy's house in the early afternoon, they have a drink and a chat, then have sex, and he leaves by 6pm to go home to bed ahead of his 5am shift.  Lucy, meanwhile, can have a shower and go out for the evening.  It's all terribly, satisfyingly practical.  

But now he wants to take her out for lunch.  Is this an actual date? But why?

The only possible conclusion Lucy can come to is that her genuine lack of interest in Peter as anything more than just a fuck buddy is like a red rag to a bull.   She's entirely chilled around him, she tells him about the other guys she's dating (so he knows about Al and Amir), and she doesn't make any kind of effort when he shows up.  Apart from a minimal defuzzing of her ladybits, of course.  Lucy does have some standards.

Clearly this don't-give-a-fuck attitude is what's now attracting Peter.  And it's probably what first attracted Amir, back when they were just mates and she was able to be herself because she wasn't hoping to get in his pants.

Lucy makes a note-to-self to try to recapture fake that same attitude in her future dealings with guys she likes.

As for Peter, it remains to be seen what his intentions are.

(To find out what happened next, click here)

The newly-single friend (Part 3)

Lucy is meeting her friend Amir for a drink.  Except now that Amir's broken up with his long-term partner, she's not sure if they are still friends, or something more.  This might be a sort-of-date, and she's nervous.

(To read the story from the beginning, click here)

It's Sunday evening.  Lucy is on her way back to Brighton and has a suitcase in tow, so they agree to meet at Victoria station so she can hop straight on the train afterwards.  Amir arrives first, and texts to say he's waiting in the seating area opposite the departure boards.

Lucy spots him as she crosses the concourse.  He's wearing grey jeans and a black shirt, and is looking down at his phone.  Just seeing him sitting there makes her blood pump a little faster.  Holy fucking crap, she thinks.  This is a proper, honest-to-goodness, schoolgirl crush now.  Shit, I'm in trouble.

As she approaches she wills him to look up and spot her, so he'll clock the full effect of the hour she spent getting ready.   But clearly he's far too busy swiping on Tinder or texting some other girl, because he bloody doesn't. FFS.

He doesn't actually notice her until she's standing right in front of him.  His hair is mussed up, he hasn't shaved, and his jawline is softened by grizzled stubble.  His brown skin looks slightly sallow, and his dark eyes - so deep dark you could drown in them! - are tired.

Chrissakes, she thinks. I sound like a fucking Mills & Boon erotic novel. Get a grip, woman.

 He stands up and gives her a long hug.
"You look knackered!" Lucy teases.
"Thanks. You look hot."
So the effort was worth it - hurrah!  "Well, so do you.  Hot but knackered."
Amir takes her suitcase (tick) and they head for a nearby bar where he buys her a drink (two ticks).

"So how's the dating going?" he asks.  Always so interested in Lucy's dates. Is that because he's her friend or because he's jealous?

Lucy tells him about a recent date, in which the only event of note was that the waitress was so awestruck by Lucy's curly hair she asked if she could touch it.
"Well your hair is amazing," Amir says.  "Now I want to touch it!"

Lucy has always been convinced that her bouffant blonde curls make her look like a middle-aged saddo who hasn't changed her style since the 80s and is still hoping that legwarmers and neon are going to come back into fashion.  But if Amir likes her hair, then he's more than welcome to touch it.  In fact, he'd be most welcome to touch any part of Lucy he likes.
He reaches over and plays his fingers through the curls.  "It's so soft!"
Lucy leans closer.  The experience of having her crush touching her makes her tummy feel funny.

Are they having a moment?  Lucy hasn't drunk nearly enough yet to know what to do.   She takes a gulp of wine to speed up the process.

"I'm going to start going on dates soon," Amir says.  "But I have no clue.  Might need your help."

In no way whatsoever does Lucy want to help Amir find dates online, but they are still in the dreaded Friend Zone, so she basically has no bloody choice.

Against her better judgement she therefore spends the next twenty fucking minutes showing him Tinder, Bumble, Happn and the rest, explaining how they work, and giving him the critical dos and don'ts of guy dating profiles.
 "No mirror selfies, no topless shots, and write something in your bio, " she advises.  

Idiot.  Should've told him that girls like crotch shots, gym shots, and pictures with other women in them.  Anything to ensure he gets as few matches as possible.

"But I don't have any good photos of me at all," he complains.
"Why don't I take one for you now?"  What did you say that for?  No wonder you're single, you fucking twat.
She pulls out her phone and snaps a picture.  Amir is resting his head on his hand and looking down the lens with a slight smile.  His hair is messy and he has a day's worth of stubble, but he looks sexy AF.  
This can't be far off what he looks like first thing in the morning, she thinks, wistfully.  And the photo will be something pretty to look at on the train journey back to Brighton. Not to mention every morning, noon and night until the End Of Fucking Time.

She texts him the picture and puts her phone away.  "So anyway," she continues, "the main rule of online dating is: don't be a dick."
"I'm not a dick."
"I know you're not NOW, but after 6 months of online dating, with all the different women that you'll encounter, you'll probably become one."
"No I won't."
"Six months. Tops."
"Show me your profile?" he asks.
She shows him.  Obviously making sure she lingers over the photos that make her look her best. 
"You look gorgeous," he tells her.  Score.
"Well if you join Bumble you'll probably see me on there... depending on how you set your search settings.  But you might only want girls under 35, in which case you won't see me."
"What if I'm searching for gorgeous confident, over-35s with amazing hair?"
"Well I guess then you'd find me!" she grins.
"I'd definitely swipe right if I did. Would that be ok?  Can I do that?"
"Well I'd swipe right to see if you had, and then if we didn't match I'd be offended.  So you'd better bloody swipe right. I know where you live, remember?"

If the only way she can get a date out of Amir is to match with him on an app, Lucy is going to fucking kill herself.

"Thing is, I won't want to match with anyone because I'd have to go on a date and I won't know what to do," complains Amir.
Fuck's sake mate, this is getting a bit whiny now.
Lucy dredges up some patience for yet another pep talk. "Of course you will. It's just chatting to a stranger.  You do it all the time."
"Maybe we should go on a date."

And there it is.

Or is it? Lucy blushes, looks away.
"OK, sure," is all she can manage.
And then the waitress comes over and the moment is gone.

Later, she berates herself.  WTF happened there?  Did he ask me out or didn't he?  She should have looked him right in the eye and said "You want to go on a date with me?"  Then waited for him to give her a proper answer.
But she fucked it up like a stammering teenager with a crush and now she is going to spend the next week (month? year?) overanalysing that moment and what might have happened if...

Over dinner of arancini balls and pasta at a little Italian, Amir talks about his relationship history, and Lucy learns some unnerving things.

He cheated on Julie once.
"I'm not proud of it," he tells her.   "We were going through a rough patch, and she'd gone away to try to figure stuff out, and I got drunk and slept with a girl from work."

It's hardly Ross and Rachel on a break, Lucy thinks.  Does making Friends references mean I'm officially old now?

Amir also very recently nearly had a fling with a work colleague.  This was after the break up, but the work colleague is (a) married and (b) still very much in the picture.
"Work was really intense at the time, we were doing long hours and we got very close.  Then one night we got drunk and she missed the last train. She asked if she could stay at mine.  I knew if I let her come back stuff would happen, so I told her to get a hotel."

This is Not Good.  He cheated on his ex. He fancies his married colleague too much to trust himself alone with her.
This is what's bound to happen if you date a charming, attractive guy. There will always be other women snapping at your heels.  Fucking bitches.

Lucy needs to find herself someone boring and ugly.

For the rest of the evening Amir is full of compliments and offers of ways they can spend time together. He invites her round to meet his kids. He offers to cook her dinner.  He suggests they meet up another weekend and spend an entire day hanging out together.

But Lucy's not sure she trusts any of it.  He seems to be full of promises but will he ever deliver? She's beginning to think he's just twitchy about being single and looking for reassurance.  Why does everything have to be so difficult and complicated?

They walk back to Victoria Station together and he waits while she buys a ticket. The next train is in ten minutes.
"You don't have to wait," she tells him.  Hoping he'll insist anyway, of course.  Ten minutes is enough time for a snog.
But he doesn't.  He gives her a long hug and then walks away across the concourse.  Lucy watches him go.  He doesn't look back.

FML, thinks Lucy.

She boards the train. It's rammed but she manages to find a seat opposite a filthy bearded man with a beanie on pulled down low over his eyes.  He stinks of unwashedness and booze and is probably homeless.

She gets her phone out and texts Amir.

This conversation is SO fucked up.  Lucy wants to strike a balance between being flirty and encouraging Amir, while at the same time still maintaining the veneer of friendship.  But now she seems to be weirdly encouraging him to date other girls, which is not what she wants at all!

Time to reel it back in.  

But it seems Amir responds better to abuse than he does to compliments...

This kind of chat is definitely not Friend Zone territory.  Is he drunk?  He only had a couple of beers and a cocktail so he can't be.  But then why the actual fuck doesn't he just ask her out properly?

"I'm allowed to say that aren't I?"  Amir clearly knows he's crossed a line, and Lucy is happy to encourage him to take little baby steps ever further across it.  But her patience is already starting to wear thin.

Then there is silence.  He must have gone to bed.

And Lucy hasn't heard from him in over a week.

(To find out what happened next, click here)

The newly-single friend (Part 2)

Lucy's friend Amir recently broke up with Julie, his partner of 10 years with whom he has two kids.  

To read the story from the beginning, click here. 

Lucy and Amir have always enjoyed a healthy but entirely platonic mutual appreciation, but over the last few months the tone of his texts has turned increasingly flirty.  While Lucy rather enjoys this (who wouldn't enjoy being complimented by an attractive man?) she doesn't know if he's actually interested in her, or if he's just flirting because he's newly-single and wants an ego boost. 

She hopes it's the former.  Amir is smoking hot.  Not to mention being talented, clever and funny, and one of her most brilliant friends. Definitely husband material.

Recently, Amir took his kids on holiday.  Just before he went away, he sent Lucy a maddeningly cryptic request.

Then he fucked off to France without so much as a peep for two bastarding weeks, leaving Lucy in a totally loopy turmoil of confusion and mystery.

WTF did he mean? Was that his way of asking her out on a date? Does he fancy her? Does he LIKE her? Is he shagging lithe bronzed French girls while on holiday? (ooh la la).  Will he ever mention the topic again?

She tries to put him out of her mind by going on other dates and drinking a LOT of wine.  She also spends a frustrated Sunday trying to distract herself by composing a lengthy post for a work-related blog she writes (not this one, just FYI).  But nothing works.

Two weeks drag by, and then just as Lucy's about to call a doctor to get treatment for the RSI she's developed from constantly checking her phone, he texts:

Since he hasn't messaged her for two weeks, the correct thing to do would be to wait at least a day or two before replying. 

Or even a couple of hours would do.

Twenty minutes?

She manages two.

Amir can always be relied upon for an ego boost. It's one of his many qualities.

He wants a 'visual'?  Lucy wonders if she should pretend she's busy casually rubbing scented body butter into her freshly-waxed legs, dressed only in a skimpy silk nightie.

She's pretty sure Amir would be far less impressed to know that she's actually wearing slightly bobbly stretch jersey PJs, and that her legs would probably give him stubble rash.

Before she has time to reply, another message pings.

Lucy's pulse quickens. He's never told her he misses her before.  WTF is going on?!

She wants to find out more, but really bloody hates text tennis.  If you're having a conversation back and forth, and neither of you is busy, you should just pick up the fucking phone and speak in person like normal people.  Or at least, like people who can remember a time before texting was invented.

She wonders whether in the future they'll start selling phones without a call function. Wouldn't be bloody surprised.  They probably already do.  Fuck I'm old. 

He calls her immediately.  Fortunately just a phonecall, not FaceTime video.  Amir definitely doesn't need to see make-up-free, pyjama-clad Lucy.  At least, not yet.

"Hey!" She can hear the smile in his voice.
"Well hello there!  How was your holiday?"
"It was good!  Well, a bit weird, but good."
"Weird how?"
"Julie came too, for a bit, and for a while it was like we were a family again. Except we're not any more."

Could he be having regrets? If so, Lucy needs to stay well clear.  Happily, since he's 'just a mate', there's one easy way to find out.

"Are you having regrets?"
"Actually no. There was this one moment when we were all together in the pool, me and her and the kids, and we were having a really nice time, and I did get this little pang... but it passed.  And she left shortly afterwards and actually I felt quite relieved, like the pressure was off."

Lucy gives herself a quiet little high five.  Game on.

He asks her about work, and Brighton, and dating.  They're mates, so it's entirely legit for Lucy to tell him all about the hundreds of men who are vying for her attention, the multiple matches she gets each day, the fuckboys who are pursuing her just for sex and the charming one she's going on a second date with tomorrow night.

Can't hurt that this sort of information might make him jealous, of course.  And subtly let him know exactly how he needs to behave if he wants to stand a chance with her.  Start the training early.

They end up chatting for an exceedingly pleasant hour before Lucy decides she ought to call it a night.  Partly because it's late, but mostly because she has a vague idea that this might be one of The Rules for catching a man.  Something about how you should always end the conversation first to keep him wanting more?

Lucy doesn't actually know much about The Rules and is pretty sure they're complete outdated wank, but she can't help wondering if there may be just a teensy element of sense to them.

And this time, she's determined to do this right.  If Amir is interested, like properly interested, he needs to come to her.

It seems to work.  A day later, he texts to find out how her date went.  Lucy tells him it went well, the guy was attractive, and she's wondering whether she might have sex with him - since it's been a while since she had any action.  Is this oversharing?

All this flirting and hint dropping is flattering and entertaining, but Lucy wishes Amir would just man the fuck up and ask for an actual date.

He doesn't, but they do agree to meet for a drink.  Still keeping up the pretence that this is all entirely normal and the dynamic of their friendship has not changed in the slightest.

And since they are both British, they will probably carry like this until either one of them dies, or they both get smashed enough for the attraction to overpower the Britishness.  Which would have to be pretty fucking smashed.

Amir says he has to work on Saturday morning but will be free by around 2pm. So they arrange to meet mid-afternoon and see where the day takes them.  Neither makes plans for the evening.   An all-day hang out, with no specific plans, just enjoying each other's company (aka getting smashed).  No one says the word 'date'.

No one mentions the possibility of them getting wasted and falling into bed together.  No one has even thought of that.  That's definitely not what either of them is hoping for.  Absolutely no chance of that whatsoever.  Nope, none.  

None at all.

Categorically not. 

Lucy spends the week in hot anticipation.  But then, on Friday, a bombshell.

Amir texts her: his working Saturday has been extended and he now has to be away all day, and possibly into the evening too. 

Somewhat awkwardly, Lucy actually has a lunch date on Sunday.

She decides not to tell Amir this.  It's one thing for him to know she's dating, but quite another for him to think she's a total fucking whore.

But after all this build-up she badly wants to see him.  The obvious solution would be just to cancel Lunch Date Guy and see Amir on Sunday instead.  But again, there are The Rules.  She mustn't be too available. She must be mysterious and elusive and hard to get. 

Lucy is none of those things, but she's damn well going to give it a bloody good go.  If this whole thing fucks up, it will NOT be her fault.

Mysterious and unavailable Lucy tells Amir she's not free on Sunday.  His only option is to make sure he gets out of work early enough on Saturday to see her that evening as originally planned.  But Lucy knows full well that when it comes to work, Amir can be as flaky as a teenage lad with a severe case of eczema.

And she's damned if she's going to get dressed up and then wait around at home for him all evening like some fucking Cinderella dreaming of her prince.  That would be Not Cool.

So she calls another friend and arranges to go for an early evening drink, before hopefully heading off to meet Amir.  Should he decide to fucking rock up. 

On Saturday afternoon she spends at least two hours trying to establish that tricky balance between perfect hair and makeup and looking like you've not made any kind of effort.   Happily, since Lucy's hair is rather unruly, and she's still doing her makeup the way she taught herself when she was about fourteen (before YouTube tutorials were invented), the lack-of-effort look is relatively easy to achieve.

Lucy has a decent enough time drinking wine with the friend and a bunch of other randoms, but she can't stop checking her phone for any word from Amir. 

But there is silence.  As predicted, flaky as fuck.  

She stays out with the randoms for as long as she can be bothered, and then heads home.  Just as she gets back, her phone beeps.

Crikey.  That WAS a long day. And from the typos in his text it looks like it may have nearly broken him.   So Lucy can't be angry. Anyway, she had a nice enough evening, unlike poor, overworked Amir.

He doesn't reply.  On Sunday morning Lucy gets up, goes to the gym, and spends a pleasant half hour on the treadmill fantasising a scene in which she and Amir meet up and without any further ado he just walks straight up to her and kisses her.  

And maybe he's got some sort of sixth sense, because when she finishes her run she finds this on her phone:

Bit keen!  But the repeated missed calls don't freak her out in the slightest.  If anything, they make her heart beat a little faster.  Or maybe that's just the running.

She calls him back.  Amir apologises profusely for standing her up, and asks if there is any chance she's free to meet him that day instead.

The temptation to bin her date with Lunch Date Guy is nearly overwhelming.  But she reminds herself:  Don't. Be. Too. Available.

Also, it's not cool to bin people on the date of the date. Guys have done that to her before and it's properly shite behaviour.  She won't be that person, no matter how hot her better offer.

So they agree to meet for dinner that evening instead.

The Lunch Date passes in a blur.  Lucy barely even notices the guy - she's far too preoccupied with what might be about to happen that evening.

(To find out what happened, click here)

The Twitter Date (Part 5)

Lucy is going for a third date with Al, who originally asked her out after a random Twitter exchange about beards.

(To read from the beginning, click here)

Al is not Lucy's usual type at all - he is a mechanic and lifeboat crew member with two kids who dropped out of school to join the army when he was 17.  And most shockingly of all, Al has an huge and terrifying beard that wouldn't look out of place on an 18th century philosopher or a 21st century Shoreditch hipster.  (Circle of Life, innit?)

This is the exact opposite of Lucy's normal type.  She normally goes for clean-gut, highly-educated geeky or creative types.  So the complete opposite of Al, to put it bluntly.

But Lucy's type hasn't exactly been working out all that well for her so far, and there's something about Al's calm manner with a hint of cheekiness that she rather enjoys.  In spite of the fact that on the last date he confessed to liking taxidermy and keeping a lizard as a pet.  But everyone has their weirdnesses, right?  You just have to find someone whose weird is compatible with yours.  The problem is, Lucy is not sure whether Al's is.

On the plus side, it does help that he seems to be rather taken with her.  Lucy likes being liked.  Especially by hot lifeboat heroes with taut bodies and melty chocolate-brown eyes.

So there's going to be a third date.  They agree to meet for dinner in nearby Lewes, so Lucy heads over there on the train from Brighton after work.  It's a warm day, so for her third-date outfit she's opted for a jumpsuit that always gets compliments when she wears it.  Even though she's pretty sure most people probably think she's a crazy cat lady who forgot to get dressed and has come out in her pyjamas.

The jumpsuit is from Boden.  That's because Lucy is a walking middle-class stereotype.  She wonders if Al has ever dated a Boden-wearing woman before.  Seems unlikely.  Boden is hardly the height of fashion, but Lucy's pretty sure Hastings, where Al is from, is not a Boden hotspot.   The good ladies of Hastings are unlikely to be Boden's middle-class yummy mummy target demographic.

Al may not be familiar with the brand, but he appreciates the outfit nonetheless.  "Damn, you look hot," he tells Lucy.
"You think?  You don't think I look like I'm wearing pyjamas?" she queries.

One day Lucy will learn how to take a fucking compliment. Not today though.

Al looks good too. He's wearing a slim-fit checked shirt and Superdry jeans.  A chubby guy would have nowhere to hide in that outfit, Lucy notes appreciatively.

But by a country mile the best thing about Al's date attire is the beard... which has shrunk dramatically!  It's still there, but instead of being stubbornly at the Charles Darwin end of the scale, it's now far closer to a Ryan Gosling.  Which is nice, since Lucy definitely fancies Ryan Gosling.

Even so, Lucy is slightly taken aback. This is a big change after just two dates. It's too much pressure!
"I've taken about three inches off," Al tells her.  "What do you think?"
"It's definitely an improvement. But I hope you didn't do that because of me?"
"No I wanted to do it anyway, the fact that you'd like it better was just a bonus."

But Lucy can't help suspecting he might have done it because of her.  Which makes her feel more guilty than that time she ate all the rest of the office birthday cake and then found out some people were still hoping for a second slice.   She denied all knowledge, of course.

Al leans in and gives her a brief kiss.  A third date kiss should be full of mystery and promise, but... it's awkward.

WTAF? thinks Lucy.  I'm standing in front of a hot, sweet guy who is into me, who has even removed most of his beard for me, and I'm underwhelmed. Get a grip, woman!


They walk to the restaurant and order food, a pineapple cocktail for Lucy and a beer for Al.

"You know, I think you're awesome," Al tells her.
Lucy thinks Al is super sweet.  But somehow she can't quite make eye contact.  This is the third date, she should be excited to see him, but... she just feels guilty.
"It doesn't bother you, the difference in our backgrounds?" she asks.  "You know, because I'm basically a posh princess, and you're..."
"Poor?"
"I didn't say that!" she squeaks. "I just meant, on paper we're not exactly the most obvious match."
"You've never dated a man who works with his hands before?"
"Actually, no," Lucy admits.  She looks at Al's hands.  They look slim and strong, and his nail beds are stained with engine oil. It's actually kind of sexy.
"I don't think it matters," Al says.  "It worked for Billy Joel: he fell in love with an Uptown Girl."
"You think I'm living in a white bread world?" Lucy asks.  "Actually I prefer granary."
He laughs.  "That's because granary bread is posh now.  White bread is what the plebs eat these days."
"So I'm an Uptown Girl living in a granary bread world?  Doesn't have quite the same ring."

The food arrives.  Lucy's gone for fish pie.  Al has ordered a burger, and Lucy has food envy.  She wonders if it's ok to steal a chip.

"So have you had any really bad online dates?" Al asks.
"A couple that were pretty excruciating, but mostly they've been ok, just underwhelming," Lucy says.
She tells him about Vincent, who revealed on their date that his friends often send him porn videos via WhatsApp.
"The thing is, I was really shocked by this. So I asked my friend, and he told me that guys do this all the time. Apparently it's a thing."
Al denies all knowledge of such activities.  Al is either a total sweetheart (entirely possible) or lying to try to impress her (also possible).

Lucy explains.  "Apparently the way it works is your mate sends you a video that looks innocent, so you watch it, and then after a few seconds it hard cuts to something obscene.  My friend showed me one.  It was of a car reversing.  You watch it thinking, 'what's this about then?'  Is something going to happen to the car?  And then suddenly it cut to a scene of a man fisting someone.  I really didn't need to see that!  It's burned on my retina now, I'm going to have nightmares!"
Al looks shocked.
Lucy laughs.  "I bet you didn't think you'd hear me say the word 'fisting' on our third date!"
"To be honest," says Al, "I didn't even think I'd get lucky enough to have a third date."

Conversation starts to flag.  Not a good sign.  "What are you up to tomorrow?" Al asks.
"Just work, and then I'll go for a run," she says.  Thrilling stuff.
"You know, I never do any exercise," Al reveals.
This surprises Lucy since Al doesn't appear have an ounce of fat on him.   She tells him so.
"Well I guess working on the lifeboat keeps me fit," he suggests.  "But I don't work out.  Guess I'm just lucky I'm naturally slim."

Lucy has to work out four times a week to ensure she's not the size and texture of a sofa.  Life's a bitch.

She squeezes his arm.  It's rock solid.  He offers her his thigh to try too.  Zero fat there either. Abs? Absolutely perfect.  Not even the slightest hint of a beer gut.

It's official. Al is FIT AS.  So why isn't she feeling the urge to jump on him?

He's finished his burger, so Lucy starts helping herself to his leftover chips.
"Do you mind?" she asks.
"Not at all, I think it's good," Al replies.
This may explain why Al is naturally slim and Lucy is only normal-sized because she fucking kills herself in the gym four times a week.

The conversation turns to unsolicited dick pics.  "Ever had one?" Al asks.
"Actually no. I guess something about my profile doesn't attract those sort of guys.  Not that I'm complaining."
"I can send you one if you like," he jokes.
"I'm amazed you haven't already," Lucy laughs.  "I thought it was pretty standard.  I'd just assumed the reason you hadn't is because you have a really tiny penis and you're embarrassed."
"Actually I have the opposite problem," Al says.  It's so big that it won't fit in the photograph. Even with a wide angle lens."
"Then get a selfie stick."

Always there with the helpful solutions, is Lucy. 

Lucy allows herself a moment to wonder which of the two explanations is closer to the truth.  As a girl, it's always tricky when you sleep with someone for the first time.  You never know quite what you're going to find down there, and there have been one or two occasions when Lucy has been exceedingly disappointed.

Though right now Lucy is really not sure she is that bothered about finding out with Al.
WTF is wrong with me?! she laments.  This lovely, cute guy is into me, and I'm just not feeling it. 

Lucy has a strong suspicion that she may well be one of those fuckwits who's only really interested in a guy when he's running away.  She always seems to be far keener when they're a bit distant and aloof.  Even though at the same time she finds guys who take ages to reply to messages intensely irritating.

This is one of the reasons why Lucy is probably going to die alone.

But is Lucy not feeling it because Al is too nice, or because the chemistry just isn't there? You can't force yourself to want someone just by willing it (and Lucy's pretty strong-willed, so if you could, she would have done it by now).  And while kindness is a fantastic quality, and definitely something Lucy's looking for in a man, there has to be more.

They get the bill and head back to the station.   The next train is not for another 10 minutes.  Al steers her up against a wall and kisses her.

It's a perfectly decent kiss - but Lucy's still not feeling it.  And as a beard-hater she finds the feeling of hairs tickling her top lip weird and disconcerting.  She's really not sure if she could ever get used to this.

A drunk man interrupts them.  
"Excuse me," he slurs.  "I've got kids, right...?" The man tails off.
What does he want? Lucy wonders. Is he about to get aggressive? Is he giving us grief for the PDA? We were only kissing, it really wasn't that outrageous.  And there aren't even any kids here anyway? What's his problem?

But the man isn't trying to abuse them, in fact bizarrely he's trying to offer them some advice. "Me and my missus were outside the Tate gallery..." he continues.
Lucy is confused. Is he trying to give them some cultural insights? Recommend a venue for the next date?  Impress them with his knowledge of 17th and 18th century art?

But no, it's rather more practical advice than that.  The man continues "...and we went into the toilets.  They were nice.  Not sure the toilets here are as good but..."

Lucy and Al are confused.  What's he trying to say?

"I'm saying you could go in there." 

Oh ok.... so drunk guy appears to be suggesting that Lucy and Al should go and have sex in the toilets. What a helpful chap.

Al has a glint in his eye that suggests he doesn't think it's such a bad idea. 

"I'm afraid I've got a train to catch," Lucy says, happily.
"How long have you got?" drunk guy inquires.

Lucy checks her watch.  "Four minutes."

Judging by the state of him Lucy's pretty sure he wouldn't have even managed one minute, let alone four.

She gets on the train.  Immediately, Al texts.  "Damn I like you xx."

Lucy feels sad.

(Editor's note: Lucy later told Al she thought they should just be friends.  They're planning to stay in touch and hang out while Lucy is still in Brighton.  Lucy's search for love continues...)