With three days stubble on my face, I'm wearing a check shirt, jumper, and knackered old shoes that have a pretty noticeable hole in them. I'm doing this because I know it doesn't matter how I look, and in fact looking like I don't give a fuck comes across better than trying too hard. Either way looking different works.
We hit the town, and start doing the rounds. The first place isn't great. The second there's a decent set but I'm getting nervous. I start drinking a bit to calm down. "Come on - just get the first set over with" the voice inside my head tells me.
I decide to just go for it and fumble (badly) through some sets, until finally the reflexes take over and my confidence starts kicking in. There were no lines used, really. The one I tried was met with "have you read The Game?" so I decide that my old material is now due for retirement. Instead I'm situational, commenting on something I'm wearing, she's wearing, the midget by the bar is wearing. Anything that comes to mind.
We're in a grungier place, and I see these two HB8s by the bar. No idea what the line was I used, but turns out one of them is French (I'm fluent - so 9/10 times this guarantees the set will go well). It does, and somehow we end up switching, suddenly I'm talking to the brunette and May has the French blonde. At first I'm annoyed, but then realise that the brunette is actually hotter, we'll call her DisappearingGirl (for reasons that later become apparent) - and, it would appear, far more into me. So we get their numbers and then walk with them to the next place. Buy them a round of drinks, and as without any warning or goodbyes they vanished. How, I have no idea, as May and I were nearer the door... but hey. No matter. (I later go on to F close DisappearingGirl, and am still fucking her to this day - but that's for later).
Annoyed, we head to Bliss. Bliss, for any of you that know Bournemouth is a wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious. Inside we are delighted to discover that there's a very good ratio of girls to guys.
May, much to my dismay, is something of a dancing queen. I'm not convinced he's any good it at (and I sure as hell know I'm not), but after a drink of four I'm normally happy to give it a go on the dance floor. This is one of those nights and before I know it I'm boogying away like a madman. My eyes meet the eyes of HB9 DemiMooreAlike and we start eye-flirting (if that's a word) as we dance away. Minutes later she kisses me (this is a first for me - I NEVER pull on the dance floor). We start full on making out for a good song or two, and then she goes to leave. I ask for her number and she shakes her head and then walks over to... her boyfriend. Who is a good half foot taller than me. Oh. Right.
Annoyed, I head back to the dance floor and within minutes I see another HB9, DeceitfulLithuanian, who also starts eye flirting. Realising I'm on fire and that for some reason women seem drawn to me, I full on flirt back. Then some Indian bloke tries grinding with her a bit too much and I "rescue" her by suggest a cigarette.
We go outside, and here's where the night starts getting weird. She introduces me to her friend. Her mother. And her friend's mother. None of whom speak English. I do my parrot bit of learning the basics in Lithuanian and repeating them back almost accent-less (which always goes down well - rolling the rrrs and all). We go back in and I meet her sister, her brother and some massive fucking ex-soviet looking bloke with a shaven head. Her extended family has basically taken over the entire southern corner of Bliss.
"Let's do some shots" DeceitfulLithuanian suggests
"Really?"
"Yeah - it will be fun"
"Yeah - it will be fun"
"I'd rather not - I have to drive tomorrow morning", I lie, looking for an excuse not to get completely wasted.
But she looked so forlorn, that I gave in.
"Ok, shots it is".
Three later (to be fair, she did pay for one round), we go back to the dance floor. I decide it's time to go in for the kiss.
"What are you doing - I have a boyfriend"
"What?!? - but you've been flirting with me for the last hour"
"I'm just having a bit of fun - what's wrong with that"?
I decide a lecture on how her 'fun' is ruining my chances of getting laid will do little to help, and start looking for other girls to dance with. I spot some and start moving away, but DeceitfulLithuanian is suddenly falling for the good old hot/cold approach.
She grabs me, and puts her tongue down my throat. As I'm kissing back I see this monolithic figure of a man rising from the back of the room. It's the ex-soviet Russian, and he starts storming this way. I break away from her and put my hands up in defence as he goes on to completely ignore me and starts shouting at her, before literally dragging her back to her family's new Lithuanian colony.
I tell May that we need to be ready to run, and we position ourselves by the door. After a short while she returns and explains that is her boyfriends friend, and he is not impressed. I ask for her number, which I get, and she tells me she wants to kiss me again, but not here. She takes my hand, guides me through to the bar which is now packed, and we start making out. Proper good full on hands all over passionate snogging.
And then she leaves.
Hmm. That's twice. In one evening.
By now the shots are starting to kick in. It's coming up to half 3 and I know this place won't be open much longer. I go into hunter-seeker mode.
1. Is it female?
2. Is it not ugly?
These are my only parameters and I start chatting up every girl in the place. I approach a group of 4 foreign looking girls, and ask them where they are from.
"They are from Spain and I am Russian", relies HB8 RussianLady. She looks late thirties/early forties.
"Ah, zees is great - I am from France!", I reply, in my best comedy French accent.
The Spanish girls are all HB6/7, but there is something about RussianLady that intrigues me. We get chatting, I wave May over, and we banter away (me in my silly mock French), until the places closes.
"Would you like to come back to ours for a drink", I'm asked
"A mais bien sur, but of course, we can do zis", I respond.
"Would you like to come back to ours for a drink", I'm asked
"A mais bien sur, but of course, we can do zis", I respond.
If you are joking around about something there's a cut off point, whereby you either have to tell everyone you are joking, or drop it and pretend there was never a joke in the first place. 45 minutes in to my Jacques Cousteau impersonation I realise that my time to tell them I was joking about the accent has come and gone. I will have to continue being French.
Next thing I know we're back at this woman's house. Tea and beer (cos why not) is served, and I'm giving them all the real Allo Allo experience. Much to May's astonishment and amusement. I pull him to one side and tell him I'm going to fuck the Russian, and that he needs to not give the game away.
At about 6am, with the first echoes of dawn approaching, everyone is tired and wants to go home (apart from me and RussianLady who have had a good old banter). We get ready to go, and I say:
"Maybe I will stay for one more cup?"
This is met with a smile. I tell May to go on ahead and that I'll get a cab back. Finally we are alone. She makes me tea. I'm feeling a little more sober now, and realising how fucking annoying it is that I'm still having to speak in my comedy accent. I make the French a little more romantic and start some light kino.
"Maybe I will stay for one more cup?"
This is met with a smile. I tell May to go on ahead and that I'll get a cab back. Finally we are alone. She makes me tea. I'm feeling a little more sober now, and realising how fucking annoying it is that I'm still having to speak in my comedy accent. I make the French a little more romantic and start some light kino.
After starting at each other for a few moments I go in for the kiss. She turns her head away.
"I'm too old for you"
I tell her she's being silly, and to relax. She resists. Every time I try she resists a little less until we finally start making out. After an appropriate time I start escalating and she's defensive again. This goes on for a good half an hour, and eventually she says she doesn't think we should do this.
I give in. Fuck it. Hiding my frustration I tell her it's ok and I will leave, and go towards the door. I know this is all or nothing. If it fails, I am seconds away from the cold morning air.
I open the door.
"Wait".
Pause.
"Maybe you can stay"
"Maybe you can stay"
"Are you going to make me sleep on the couch or in your bed"?
And she grabs me by the shirt and takes me to her bedroom.
Fade to black.
As the birds chirp away in what is now full dawn an hour or two later, we're lying in bed smoking and she tells me.
"Once you've had a Russian you'll never go back to English girls"
"Good thing I am French", I reply. And promptly fall asleep.
The next day my mates got the last laugh though, when she phoned up. I left my watch there and they were all treated by my surprise French accent when I answered the phone.
I expect I'll never see her again. She knows it. I know it. From Russia With Love. Just for one night.
Post-Script
The following day I text DisappearingGirl:
"Are you a Magician?"
"Is that Frodo"
"Yes, Samwise and I were wondering if you could teach us your epic disappearing act from last night :P x"
"Yes, Samwise and I were wondering if you could teach us your epic disappearing act from last night :P x"
A few days later I starting fucking her. Not to mention another girl I had sex with last night and this morning who is one of my new regular fuck buddies.
TheBandit is back. And oh my fucking god this is going to be an awesome year!
