Vanity Fair

    "Did you see her?" Phillip exclaims as he eyes the backside of a passerby.  "She was completely checking me out," and with that he lets out a laugh.

    Now, I witnessed this 'checking out' and by no means were this girls' intentions anything more than a glance - a normal glance which happens when you walk past someone.  And yet Phillip is still glaring at her back as she strolls down the road away from him.  He helps himself to another chuckle and continues walking.  I say walking - it's more of a strut.  This man is Derek Zoolander.  There is no other character that can describe him better. 

    We've spent the last hour in a cafe.  It was my idea really as I hoped it would give me a chance to get to know him better, but in the entire hour I only managed to utter two words, 'Shut' and 'up' and both of these were muttered under my breath.  So after a while I gave up on trying to have a conversation and just let Zoolander, I mean Phillip, talk at me. 

    And now we're on our way to a fun fair, probably because Phillip wants to see just how better looking he is than everyone else there (Whilst at the cafe he said, "I am 80% more attractive than anyone else here!").  He's not even walking alongside me.  He's very selfishly taken the 'leader' position and I'm just trailing behind him like a little child. 

    Why why why am I here?  Why do I continue to torture myself with these awful human beings just to avoid that ever so tragic, "No, I won't go on a date with you,"

    But, I'm looking at this as a learning curve.  For example, Phillip has very kindly pointed out that I have an oily T-zone and drastic action must be taken against it.  He's even jotted down the name of the skincare brand I should be using.  See, it's not all bad...

    "Fancy going on the Dodgems?" I point out trying to inject some fun into this date.

Phillip ponders this for a while and then comes to a stiff conclusion, "No, it messes with my hair,"

    How?  You have used at least 3 cans of hairspray on it.  There's probably an O-Zone hole the size of France hovering above you!

    I look around desperately trying to find something that he might be able to enjoy.  I refrain from pointing out the House of Mirrors just in case he has a heart-attack when he faces himself looking short, fat and incredibly ugly.  Actually, on second thoughts...

    "What would you like to do?" I ask him.

    "Huh?  Oh.  Nothing really.  Just thought we could get some candy floss and sit around,"

    What a great idea, Phillip.  Sitting around will make the time go faster. 

    We've found a semi-quiet spot on the far end of the fun fair, and ten minutes into sitting with him I find this strange urge to throttle him.  He's been talking non stop without taking a breath and not once has he asked any questions about me.  I can now understand why at the age of twenty-four he has never had a serious relationship.  Clearly, the only person he has time for is himself. 

    "I was the champion at boxing at university," he continues. "But my coach forced me to stop because he thought that I was far too good looking,"

    I almost choke on the candy floss.  "Huh?" I question quizzically. 

    "Well, you know.  It would be horrible if someone were to hit me on my face and I had to walk around with one of those noses," he pulls an ugly face as he says it.

    "It would be absolutely tragic," I say clearly meaning it to be sarcastic.  But if he heard me, he gave no indication.  Instead he just continued to talk about himself. 

    "My last girlfriend was a Playmate," he spills out. 

    "OK," I say awkwardly.  How am I meant to respond??  "And how did you meet her?"

    Phillip faces me with excitement written all over his expression.  "Funny you should ask," he begins.  "One of my good friends is a photographer.  I went out partying with him and he introduced me to this gorgeous, little blonde.  Apparently, she took one look at me and asked my friend for my number,"

    He says this so casually.  This man does not own a single gram of modesty. 
    I'm stuck on what to say now.  He's rambled on about himself for such a long time now that I think even he is burnt out. 
    "Maybe we should take a walk along the river," I suggest, looking ahead at the sparkling water.  "It's really lovely now that the weather is warmer,"
    But Phillip just looks at me with a raised eyebrow.  "Really?" he says in a patronising tone.  "You think this is lovely?"  He points out at the stretch of the Thames that's in view.  Boats are trailing along, and on this side of the river bank people are out picnicking.  It's a romantic picture and if Phillip needs to question that, well he's just not human. 
    "I've been on the Nile," he begins.  "Now that was lovely,"
    My hand clenches into a fist and I swear to you, I'm seconds away from it meeting with his nose.  I've had enough of this.  Even I am not this patient. 
    "Phil, this has b-"
    "It's Phillip," he corrects me.
    "Phillip, this has been rather special, but I must head back home now,"
    "That's fine.  I've got to get ready for a private party anyway.  There are going to be so many hot girls there," he almost punches the air with his fist as he says it.
    "That's...great," I say and begin to edge myself away. 
    "Come and hug me then, darling," he orders with his arms open.
    I do as I'm instructed and make my way to him, my arms wrapping around his body.  He squeezes me so tight my feet leave the ground for a split second. 
    "Speak soon," I say to him with a little wave and walk away. 
   
3 months later I hear that Phillip has been banned from several gyms around London.  Apparently he was getting too 'touchy' when comparing abs...

Love Drunk

I think I've been a bit unfair on my date stories. So far I have only told the tales of the bad dates where it has been down purely to the guy. But the truth is that us girls are sometimes at fault too, and believe me I have a few tales of my utter stupidity also.

It's been a dull day. Well, actually it's been a dull week. I'm still awaiting job interviews and am in the midst of application forms, but nothing has really occurred yet. My lazy Summer days are being spent parading up and down my local High Street hopping from cafe to cafe to swot up on marketing. But there's only so much of 'Marketing for Dummies' that a girl can read and once I've finished my 6th latte of that particular hour, I put my book down and gaze dreamily out of the window. I'm not too sure what exactly I'm thinking about, but the next thing I notice is a tall, handsome guy with piercing grey eyes and brown hair who was towering over me.

    "May I sit here?" he points at the comfy sofa opposite me. I feel guilty for taking up a table with 3 armchairs plus a sofa when I'm not expecting anyone.

    "Yes, of course," I reply, eyeing him up and down when he's not looking.

    He sits down, sipping at his coffee and reading The Times. I'm now pretending to read my book once again, but I'm paying no attention to it. Instead my eyes are transfixed on this beautiful man. I'm not being very subtle. Every time his eyes rise up and meet mine, I turn my head quickly the other way. Let's face it - it's pretty obvious.

    "Is something wrong?" he asks me, a gentle smile announcing itself.

    "Nothing at all. I'm just looking out of the window," I say defensively and glare out of the window behind him. The only thing of interest is a bald man dragging a disobedient dog.  He turns his head to be greeted with the man who is now shouting at the little Labrador. "Come on, Earnie," we hear, and immediately both burst into laughter.

    "I'm Tom," he says reaching out a tanned hand towards me. I smile sweetly and introduce myself. For the next hour we really get to know each other and already he's announced that he wants to see me again.

    "When?" I say, perhaps a little too eagerly.

    With a laugh Tom says, "Tonight?"

    "Tonight. Hmm, what am I doing tonight? ...tonight," I say as if I'm really thinking about it, trying desperately not to sound that interested. "I think I'm free tonight,"

I thank my lucky stars that my week has finally got interesting. Tom is perfect!! He's gorgeous, interesting, funny and incredibly smart, and for the rest of the day I'm completely buzzing and far too excited to see him again. I'm so excited in fact that I've forgotten to eat. Instead, the remainder of the day has been spent going into London and choosing the perfect outfit.

I've opted for a pale pink Topshop mini dress and am making my way to Giraffe, the restaurant that Tom and I agreed to meet at. He's already there, sitting on a table outside enjoying the setting sun that's dipping behind the buildings.

    "Hello," he stands up to greet me.

   "Hi. I hope you haven't been waiting long," I say and he immediately dismissed it with a 'not long' but looking at the almost empty pint of beer in front of him I can see he's been here a while.

    Am I late? I question myself as I look at my phone to check the time.

    "I thought that perhaps we could sit out here and have a few drinks first before dinner," he explains and sits back down ordering the waiter to bring a menu.

    I scan the cocktail menu once it's been handed to me and order a mojito. Tom begins to tell me more about himself and the conversation flows for about an hour. In this one hour I've ordered 5 cocktails, and now standing up to go inside for dinner I can already feel my tipsy head swooning and making everything just that little bit dizzy.

    The fact that I haven't eaten anything all day has not helped.

    "Can we get a bottle of wine as well," Tom calls out after the waiter who soon returns and tops my glass quite generously.

    Oh no.

    "So tell me something else about yourself," Tom starts.

    I think about this - probably a little longer than I should and begin to tell him my entire life story. It starts with my first memomy of putting on red lipstick all over my face when I was three, and ends with that funny squirrel I saw in London earlier that day.  My slurry words are already showing evidence that I have had more than enough alcohol.     
     "Are you alright?" he finally asks.

    "Yeah, perfectly happy, thanks," I say with a big smile, but Tom looks dubious. He's already began to edge the bottle of wine away from me.

Even with food inside me, my drunkenness does not seem to shy away anytime soon. In fact, it's probably been made worse with the occasional gulp of wine after each bite. Let's face it, I'm well and truly trolleyd.

    "Can I get you any desserts or coffee?" the friendly waiter asks after the meal. I'm about to shake my head (not exactly shake, more waddle it) but Tom speaks immediately.

    "Black coffee," he says looking at the waiter and then at me.

    Oh, come on. I'm not that drunk...am I?

    The waiter places the black coffee in front of Tom, smiles and walks away. The coffee cup just stays there with no one touching it. I'm a little confused at this point - since this is meant for me should I reach over and take it?  Hmm, very puzzling. I'll wait a little and then decide.

    4 minutes later Tom is still talking, but the coffee has remained untouched. I should probably just reach out and take it. After all, he did order it to sober me up.

    "Excuse me," I say politely and move Tom's arms out of the way. Slowly, I drag the cup of coffee towards me and take a sip. The talking has now stopped and Tom is staring with a stern look as he watches me drink. "Yummy," I say aloud and beam another smile his way.
    But he doesn't smile back. He gets the attention of a nearby waitress and asks for the bill. In utter silence, he pays for the entire meal and we walk out.

    "How are you getting home?" he asks.

    "I'll walk," I reply, expecting him to offer a lift.

    "Ok, I'll call you," he calls out, now about 10 steps ahead of me, with heavy strides making his way to the distance.

    ...That coffee wasn't meant for me, was it?

    He never did call.

The Bunny Boiler - Chapter 4

    "How sure are you this is her house?" Mikey whispers in my ear as the two of us are crawling along the front garden.

    "Absolutely certain, now be quiet," I tell him and edge forward a little.  To be honest with you, I'm not too sure what I'm supposed to be doing.  All I know is that last week one of my best friends had to get a pixie crop which really doesn't suit her because a certain someone decided to throw (a badly-aimed) bowl of hair removal cream.  And now I'm finding myself face down in her front garden, avoiding the flower beds so that I can get back at her.  The problem is that I'm not exactly sure how to do that.  It was a spur of the moment really.  Mikey reminded me of the incident and suddenly I flipped.  Next thing I know we're both here.  In broad daylight.  Not the best time to be sneaking about. 

    "We should really go," Mikey announces and tries to crawl the other way, but I grab his arm and stop him. 

    "No!  We're here now.  We might as well get on with it,"

    "Get on with what exactly?" he reminds me, but I ignore him.  I'm far too angry at the moment to think rationally.  I hear him mumbling something under his breath before he shuffles towards me.

    "You're insane," he hisses. 

    "Did you have to come with me?  No.  So shut it," I hiss back.  We both remain silent for a moment as I think of the next strategy.  But my brain fails me.  So we just lie there, on the damp grass like hungry snakes waiting for prey.

But it's not long until the cheerful chirping of the birds is drowned out by people talking.  Mikey and I exchange panicked glances.

    "Oh my gosh, they're coming out!" he whispers a shout.  "What the fuck are we going to do???"

    "I don't know," I tell him.  "I knew this was a bad idea," but Mikey just looks at me annoyed.  We both scramble to our feet and do a little 'panic' dance as we decide which way to go.

    "Through the back garden," Mikey pulls me, but I don't let him.

    "No, they'll see us there.  Let's just leave," and I drag him my way.  But it's too late.  We both hear the door creek open.

Please don't let it be the mother.  Please don't let it be the mother.

On the other side of it is a face I do not recognise.

    "Oh, hello," the face speaks.  "Can I help you?"

    "Hello," I begin awkwardly.  "Umm, is Kate there, please?"

    "She's just popped out.  Can I take a message at all?" the face carries on.  "I'm her sister,"  and a cheery smile is thrown our way.

    "Actually, you can," I think about this long and hard, and deep inside me I know this is going to be a bad idea, but I wanted revenge, and revenge I shall get.  "We want to be as discrete about this as possible.  We understand it's a very difficult time at the moment for your family," the words roll out.

Kate's sister just looks confused. 

    "But, we wanted to come here personally to have a sit down with Kate.  We can't imagine how scared she must be feeling,"

    "Scared about what?" Kate's sister edges forward intrigued. 

    "Oh, you don't know?" I say innocently.  I have no idea how but I can feel Mikey disapproving behind me.  "We're both nurses from the hospital.  Kate came to see us about a week ago.  Well, it turns out she's not only pregnant,"

   Kate's sisters' jaw drops ten inches.

    "she's also caught gonorrhea,"

And with that we leave.

I'm walking down the street with a smile of my face.

    "Proud of yourself?" Mikey asks once we're both out of sight.

    "Yep!"

    "You do realise that the only person Kate could have got pregnant with is Jamie.  And Jamie is now your boyfriend, so you've not only opened a can of worms for her, but also for him,"

SHIIIIIIIIIIIT!

    "You've done WHAT??" Jamie yells at me down the phone when I tell him. 

    "I'm sorry.  I panicked and just went with whatever was in my brain.  Somehow gonorrhea made its way there," I apologise.

    "Her parents are going to ring my parents!!" he suddenly sounds alarmed.

    "Of course they won't.  Kate will get back and set them straight," I try to reassure him.  "It was only meant to be a temporary solution until I think of something else-"

    "NO MORE!!" he shouts.

    "Sorry,"

    "You've just put ideas in her head, babe," Jamie continues.

    "Oh, don't be silly.  Plus, it's been 4 months since you two broke up.  She should have a balloon belly by now," I continue.  You can see why I never did well in Biology at school. 

But Jamie was absolutely right.  Psycho Kate must be a real optimist deep down because she turned this situation to her favour.  She didn't deny the pregnancy to her family.  Instead she told them it was absolutely true, and lo and behold, later that evening Kate's parents made their way to Jamie's house.  I watched from Jamie's window as Kate trailed behind them, head down, playing the victim once again. 

    "Why is she here?" Kate points at me as we all sit down in the living room.

    "I may be your child's step-mother, Kate," I say in all seriousness.  Jamie holds a laugh which comes out as a snort.

    "She'll just upset my daughter again," Kate's mum pipes up.  "Is there any real reason for her to be here," Every one's looking at me now.

    "Oh, more than you know," Jamie whispers to himself.

    "Perhaps you should go home.  It might be upsetting for you," Helen, Jamie's mum tells me.

    "Oh stop it.  She's not actually pregnant," Jamie says with a smile.  "It's a long story which I'll explain later, but trust me, there's no way she's pregnant,"

    "Of course I'm pregnant Jamie!" Kate stands up and shouts.  "And it's your child,"

I try to stand up and shout back but Jamie pulls me down before I get the chance.

    "Well, we're going to need proof," Helen says.  This isn't taken kindly by Kate's parents.  "Sorry, dear," she continues, "but we haven't heard the nicest things about you.  And, well, you were rather extravagant when you and Jamie were together,"

At this moment I want to ask Jamie to marry me, just so his mother is my mother in law. 

    "And you're not exactly showing, are you," Helen says cautiously, desperate not to upset anyone. 

    "Well, she does have a small frame," Kate's mum jumps in to defend her daughter.  But I can tell that even she is beginning to doubt it. 

    "Even so, Carol.  She would definitely begin to show by now," The two women continue to argue it out. 

Jamie and I have been left out completely, so we just talk amongst ourselves, occasionally laughing in the midst of arguments that are being thrown around the room. 

    "Do you want to leave?" he asks me with a grin. 

    "But if I leave it looks like Kate has you all to herself," I say.

    "I'm coming with you, you muppet,"

    "Oh,"

We both stand up. 

    "Right, we're off.  As fun as this has been we can't really stick around.  Lots to do," Jamie announces to the entire room.  Everyone just stares at him as if he's insane.  "Oh, and Kate.  Please refrain from sleeping with anyone just to get pregnant.  You might actually get gonorrhea,"

    "My daughter would not do that!" Kate's dad snaps.

    "Oh, your daughter would," Jamie says as he grabs his jacket.

Meanwhile, Kate has finally figured it out.  "It was YOU!!" she screams my way.  "You're the one who came round and told my sister I was pregnant!!!"

I start to look a bit uncomfortable.  I'm about to say, 'You deserved it' but Jamie stops me once again.

    "Kate, you can play this out as long as you want.  We don't care anymore, OK?"

And with that we walk out.