3 Dates 3 Months – Adam Ant, Madonna & A Rubix Cube
After her LOL-a-minute first post, we couldn’t wait to hear what Kirsty (aka Taupe & Pearl) had planned for challenge number two. If you’re a lover of 80s fashion, this is for you…
Here it is- the long awaited second installment of my 3 Dates 3 Months Challenge with JustSingles! If you haven’t read my first challenge post yet then view it here along with more info about Just Singles. I’m sorry for the lateness of this post, it was meant to go up last month, but my posting schedule went out the window a bit when I received some bad news about a friend and it’s all been a bit up in the air since then. However the post is here (finally) to answer all your burning questions about my second challenge- how did it go? Did she get the guy? Or was she just a failure at life in a Missguided jumpsuit? All will be revealed…
For my second challenge I went to a fancy dress I Love The 80s party (both 80s and Valentine’s themed). I scoured the internet for costume ideas and settled on a very low black jumpsuit and genuine 80s red asymmetrical belt combo (complete with frizzy hair, blue eyeshadow, hooker-esque pink contouring and blinding shimmery highlighter). A fancy dress party you say? Thats not a challenge is it, there’s plenty of men at parties! Well yes to be fair it’s not that hard to find a man at a party, but the difficult part is finding a man who A) you will actually want to see again once the tequila wears off, and B) doesn’t look suspiciously like he’ll try and hump your leg when you turn around to order a drink.
As soon as I walked in to the pub I found a man, well technically he found me, but I wished he hadn’t. He was old enough to be my dad, maybe older (we’re talking grandad material) and he asked lots of questions about costumes and the party. He was spinning some yarn about meeting Adam Ant once at a party in London in the 90s, and I was smiling and nodding politely while trying to ignore the fact that his friend had fallen asleep on the bar. Eventually I grabbed someone to act as a human barrier and I swiftly exited to the other side of the room as soon as my tequila and apple was served.
Trying not to choke on the tiny shards of ice in my drink (why do barmen do that??) I made my way through the crowd, making sure the safety pin was still keeping my dignity safely in check under the waist low V neck of the Missguided jumpsuit. I met up with some people I new, laughed at those dressed as white wedding brides and Madonna, and wondered if some of the people had bothered wearing a costume or if they actually do their hair and makeup like that normally.
The hour or so that followed was filled with tequila shots (salt, no lemon), John Terry shots (not as suspicious-looking as expected but ingredients unknown), and two shots of brandy because I was sure I really really liked it. Turned out I was wrong, I do not like brandy.
Toilet trips probably aren’t what you’d expect in a tale about finding a date at a party, but when you’ve safety pinned up the only exit to your jumpsuit and you’re wearing a tricky-when-drunk hold-me-in-a-bit belt, they turn into amazing feats of contortion and shivers, leaving you sat in a cold pub bathroom in literally just your underwear. I wandered back through the crowd smiling in everyone’s faces and wondering who the hell had chosen the music, and it was then that I noticed a guy I was sure I knew but just couldn’t place.
When I went over he introduced himself as Steve, and I asked him how he knew the birthday girl (it was also a birthday party, did I mention that?). As it turned out he lived with her. I told him I’d never seen him at her house but I was sure I’d seen him before. He said ‘Ah..so that’s why you were staring at me??‘. I turned a vivid shade of tomato.
It was getting close to closing time- the oldies were wailing ‘get me in a taxi!‘ and everyone else was moaning that it was still early for a Friday night, so we all decided to nip off to the birthday girl’s house (also Stuart’s house remember?) to carry on where we left off (minus Billy Jean and various other material girls that just wanted to have fun). Stuart poured me a wine glass of whiskey and orange squash (I’m very classy you know) and we carried on chatting about god knows what while perched on kitchen stools, me wondering when to pop the crucial question and secure a second meeting. There came to a lull in the conversation and I knew it was now or never, so I started off with a casual ‘So…‘ in preparation to pounce. Just as I was taking a breath to start my next sentence, out Stuart came with ‘well..I’ve got to be up early so I’m off to bed, night!‘ and he jumped up and strolled out of the kitchen.
Night? I thought. Night?? He said off to bed, not off to bed with me, not off to bed next to me, not even off to bed near me. Well, as you can imagine, my jumpsuit and I were very offended. Maybe I hadn’t played with my hair enough? Maybe I should’ve made him walk behind me instead of in front up the stairs and through the hall? Or maybe I’d just missed my chance.
In a flash he’d disappeared off to one of the six bedrooms and, as it was nearing 4am and people had been slowly trickling home, there wasn’t much point in scouring the hangers-on for someone else to sink my claws into. As I phoned for a taxi I made a mental note to get Stuart’s number off my friend, or at least look for him on Facebook- how many Stuarts can there be?
As it turns out, trying to ask people out is much harder than waiting for them to ask you. But it’s even harder if you don’t actually get to ask anything.
Despite the failure of challenges one and two (and thankfully before I’ve had chance to doubt myself), the third is already looking very promising! I won’t give the game away but I’ve already weeded out the Josh-like weirdos and Stuart-like flakers and, although there won’t be a clipboard or jumpsuit in sight, I’m already ready to pounce! Wish me luck…. (god knows I’ll need it)!
Until next time,
The Just Singles Team.