Just One More, Go On.

Just one moreI had a blind date last night. Unknowingly. Maybe that’s not the best way to start off as most blind dates are unknowing. Although I guess you know you’re going on them you just don’t know the guy. My little drama last night was more the other way round. I knew the guy but had no idea I was going on a date with him. In short I was duped into driving 20 miles for a night out that involved playing air hockey in an arcade and being asked to get my tits out in the local Lloyds bar which resembled more of a cheap back street strippers club than a high street local.

Working away from home for two weeks on my own leaves me with a few moments of wishing I had someone other than myself for company. That glass of wine and a gossip for an hour before you head off to your room, you know, just company. The event I am covering is a one person job, but one of the guys comes down each morning and evening to set up the promotional kit and take it back down. Other than that I have miserable locals for company until I retire to my room to take a shower, have a poo and hand wash my knickers. So naturally when the kit was taken down and I was told I was welcome on a night out with the staff (plural) I jumped at the chance to head into town with a bunch of people my age to have a drink and a social. My answer was yes. I took down his number and he said I could park on his street as he was five minutes walk from town. This arrangement suited me fairly well. So I thought.

When I got back to my room I had a shower, put some fresh make up on and ran a brush through my hair before finally gargling a mouthful of Listerine to eliminate the rancid taste in my mouth from my 10 for £1 chicken nugget lunch time special. No major effort went in but it’s just nice to look a bit pretty when you are heading into town on a Saturday night. My intentions were not to stop long. A slow drink, a good laugh and meeting new people was the scenario I was prepared to walk into. Having checked my phone I saw a missed call and it again started ringing. I answer and it’s the guy from work informing me they are all planning to meet at 9.30 is that OK with me? Grabbing my car keys. I hopped in my car and headed up into town.

I parked up and we walked the short journey into town and straight into an arcade with teenagers hanging around smoking cigarettes like they’re Danny from Grease. It was somewhere you could go to hang out if you were too young for a club but too old for being cool and hanging with your friends at home with mummy and daddy bringing a never ending supply of non-alcoholic beer to the bedroom. First stop is the bar and I had a small white wine. I did have my car so this would be my only drink for the night. He kindly insisted on buying and we sat down on some sticky leather sofas. Noticing no one had approached us I asked when the others will arrive and he answered explaining they were in the pub down the road. Right. OK. I made idle chit chat about work whilst he looked at my empty wine glass and told me to drink another. I laughed and reminded him of the fact I had a car and would not be continuing down the wine route. Again, he insisted I have another one. Then again. My answer was no each and every time to which he replied that the guys would think I am lame and boring if I wasn’t up for having a few. I kept quiet. He then asked would I like to play bowling? Erm, hello, did you forget we have people to meet? Politely I declined the bowling request and he shoved some money in an air hockey machine and basketball game before reluctantly leaving. Oh, and finally into that punch machine that tells you how much of a moron you are out of 100.

Thinking we were finally heading over to meet the rest of the gang I was really looking forward to what the next hour or so would bring. My plans were to have an orange juice, socialise and then head off back to my room. After all I had been working flat out all week and was exhausted. Not really in the party animal kinda mood. As we approached the Lloyds bar I saw him give a head nod which was responded to by a man in the smoking area who nodded back. Cool. Maybe it was sweet the fact he wanted to try to see me on my own first? Slightly misleading but I let it go. Heading into the bar I was greeted with a limitless view of party goers in the shortest dresses I have ever seen that displayed some borderline revealings of cleavage. His friend headed over to us and I found out this was not a friend of the group we planned to meet. Where were they? “Not going to be here for another half an hour” was the response I got which followed with laughter. Not too sure I got that joke. So I am standing by the dance floor thinking about calling it a night because it was getting later and later, 9.30 was the time we were all supposed to meet and it was now a long way past that. Just as I turn to make my excuses a glass of wine is passed to me. To me no means no. Clearly the word has no significance. It was a small glass, I had eaten dinner and so I decided not to make a fuss and I held onto it taking small sips looking around for these groupies to show up. Considering it was 11 I asked again where they were and was told another half hour. Click. They’re not coming are they. It’s all under false pretense that I am stood in the middle of a hooker-like bar with this guy on my own. A blind date that he knew all about and I was oblivious to.

A few lads from the “office” came over (again not the planned arrangements) did some bloke handshake thing and disappeared to go and grab some of the drunk females who were downing vodka shots at the bar. Looking at my wine glass he started to laugh and told me to drink more, get drunk, I can stay at his house in his room and he can stay in his friends bed – don’t worry about my car I can leave in the morning I should stop being boring and have fun. Apparently (this is honest) I am like his grandmother just wanting to go home to bed, I am a little Christian girl who prays and would never step a foot out of line. Oh and I am also one of those girls that do what mummy says. By this point I am feeling incredibly uneasy and if I am honest slightly scared. The pressure to keep drinking was mounting and it even got to the stage he suggested me getting my tits out. Trust me, I am not one for being pressured or bullied by men but he was doing a damn good job of testing me. I firmly told him I was going to head back to my car and he went on to say the guys would think low of me should I just go back early on a Saturday night. (n.b I don’t know these people and I wont in a weeks time either.) I laughed it off and started walking back to find my car. He walked me back and suggested he stay at my B&B and he can show me the local area. What the actual fuck. Seriously. I waved him off to have a good night and thankfully I was able to get into my car, phone my boyfriend and drive back.

The next day I thought he might have just been steaming drunk and that I wouldn’t hear anymore from him. Wrong! My phone went off a good few times which kept my voicemail busy, but I did have to send a text asking him to not contact me outside of work. His reply was a simple “OK.”

Being falsely lured into a date, pressured to drink copious amounts alcohol so I would have to stay the night and ultimately lied too was not what I imagined or in the least bit expected from someone I was working with and will continue to work with for the next week. Awkward. Luckily I have a very strong character and I walked away without getting myself into a situation that could have potentially turned out to be quite frightening.

Although my blind date wasn’t blind for the fact I didn’t know who I was meeting, it was blind because I had no idea of the situation I was walking into.

Copyright © 2014 The Bella Effect

Advertisements

One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s