How to ruin a second chance with a girl: a narrated guide!

They say that there is never a second chance to give a first impression. But, after being granted a second shot by dreadlocks girl, I was feeling confident that I could change the misconstrued womanizer image she had of me after my unfortunate texting mistake (read past posts: Chatting up in the queue for the toilets & Chatting up from the distance). However, despite of the fact that we regained contact, I didn’t manage to arrange a face-to-face encounter with her to redeem my faux pass until…
 

One Friday night, I was going out for a drink with some friends, when I bumped into dreadlocks girl in the queue at a lesbian bar. She was standing in front of the bar in the smoking area with a few other people. When she saw that my friends and I joined the queue, she came straight to us.

“Hello Casanova…” She said to me.

“Hey!” I responded shortly hiding my excitement and expressing little emotion about her greetings. I was surprised by her sudden flattery as, after weeks of unsuccessful attempts from my side to grab her attention by text, I was ready to give up on my wooing.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, you look very cute tonight” She continued.

Why she is so suddenly so into me? I am dreaming? Have I changed my deodorant brand or something? She is probably very drunk…

“You know… I think that you should get me that drink tonight” She said touching her dreadlocks.

After a few seconds of paralyzing silence, and a couple of nudges from my friend that helped my brain to land back into the situation, I finally reacted:

 “Sure! I’ll be happy to get you a drink, are you coming in?” I said walking forward in the quickly advancing queue.

“Yeah! I’m going to finish this up and I and my friends will be inside in a sec” She said lifting up her cigarette and pointing at her small group of friends that were standing on the side.

“Cool… what can I get you?” I said showing my ID to the bouncer at the same time.

“A beer will be nice. Thanks!” She said smiling and playing again with one of her front dreadlocks.

“See you inside” I said from the door.

My friends rapidly scattered between the bathroom queue and the dancing floor as soon as we got in, so I decided to make my way to the bar and order two beers. After wandering around with the drinks in my hands through the packed dance floor, I got worried about being missed by dreadlocks girl, so I made my way back to the safe and well-illuminated bar where I could also have a better view of the door.

I can’t believe that she approached me tonight! She was so direct and confident! What would she want from me… (apart from a free drink)? I’m confused…

I waited at the bar for a while, pretending to move along with the music, but she was not showing up.

It isn’t the right song for her to come through the crowd anyway… I kept on thinking as if her appearance had to match the reunion epic moment from a romantic Hollywood movie.

Tune after tune I kept on slowly drinking my beer but she was still not coming in.

Being alone in a social crowd always makes me uncomfortable. As I was drinking slowly, the feeling of being a stood-up loser started to emerge.

Was this some kind of revenge? Did she want to teach me a lesson or something?

Graffiti of dripping hearts found in Brighton (signed by Maleska). Picture taken August 2016.

 As I was finishing my beer, holding dreadlocks girl’s beer untouched one in my other hand, a tall blond girl approached me.

“It looks as if you have been stood up” She said looking at my two drinks and my very likely miserable facial expression.

“Yeah, thanks… I noticed that” I responded. Her words were the confirmation of my deepest fears: dreadlocks girl was just playing with me! I’m just a joke! I’m the looser girl that has been stood up tonight!

“It’s a pity because you are very cute!” She continued.

Her chatting up strategy consisting of making me feel vulnerable and lifting me up after with some praising seemed strange to me, but at least it lead her to grab my attention.

“Pretty girls should not be allowed to walk alone in a bar like these… there are many vultures around that might take advantage of an innocent girl like you” the Blond girl said while slowly approaching her way to me like a scavenger.

Her old-school straight-men-like compliments, although secretly appreciated, were not sinking very well with my current stomach knot.

“Thanks, but I’m not in the mood” I curtly responded.

But the blonde girl kept insisting, so I surrendered and engaged in a friendly conversation for a few minutes with her. I accepted the fact that, after probably more than an hour of waiting, dreadlocks girl was not going to show up and so, an innocent self-esteem booster talk with a stranger couldn’t not harm.

After a few seconds, I could see that the blonde girl and I were not a match. She was studying at the police academy to become a detective and talked and moved as straight a man that had grown up in the XIX century. But somehow, I found her strangely amusing.

“I support the right-wing you know…” She said at some point in an attempt to express the fact that she was a hetero-normative traditional lesbian by displaying her political interests.

“I think that I should find my friends…” I said moving my arm in the direction of the dance floor. I had no interest in chatting about politics with some blonde right-wing chick after being stood up by my dreadlocks dream girl, so I initiated my escape plan.

At that moment, and out of the blue, the tall blond Tory (republican) launched herself towards me landing with her lips on my lips. I froze for a few seconds before I pushed her away. The drink that I was holding for dreadlocks girl got spilt all over her white shirt with the manoeuvre.

“What are you doing?” I said pushing her away. I was utterly disoriented as I was not expecting a kissing attack from the old fashion future police agent.

“I thought that we were getting along, I’m sorry, I…!” She replied while shaking the beer off herself.

“I…. I’m sorry about the beer…” I said while passing her some napkins that I grabbed from the bar.

“I probably should go now…” I said pushing my way through the crowd.

Plaster sculpture framed of different pussies displayed in Brighton. Picture taken in January 2013.

When I found my friends on the dance floor, I tapped one of them on the shoulder.

“I think that I’m going to go home… dreadlocks girl hasn’t shown up and I’m not feeling good and…” I started to feel very vulnerable. On one side, I was feeling played by dreadlocks girl and, on the other, I felt harassed by the conservative kissing attacker.

“What are you talking about? She was on her way to the bar but you were making out with that tall chick… so she turned around and left” My friend said.

“WHAT?  Are you serious? How can this happen?” I could not believe what my friend was describing.

The idea of my life following a Hollywood movie plot had come true in a very much unexpected way.

“What brand of deodorant you are wearing tonight? You seem to be on fire!” My friend commented.

I explained to my friend the no consented kiss at the bar and she rushed me to go outside to see if I could catch dreadlocks girl at the door. When I went outside she was gone. I tried to call her but she didn’t pick up. I send her a message explaining again another misunderstanding, but as expected, I got no answer….

However, I knew that sooner or later, we would bump into each other and I was ready to beg her for a third chance…

To be continued...

Chatting up from the distance: A sweet interlude before the final screwed up…

One lucky Friday night, I chatted up a dreadlocks goddess in the queue for the toilets. But of course, I ended up making a fool of myself by sending her a very misunderstanding message due to my natural ability to mix up names of newly introduced attractive girls (read the previous post). This is how the story followed:

I ended up grabbing a friendly drink that week with a young photography girl, the unintended receiver of a suggestive text meant for dreadlocks-girl. We mainly exchanged stories of common high school teachers and compared the time gap and different struggles of growing up in the same small (and slightly conservative) community as lesbians.

“There weren’t any openly gay people back home when I was a teenager,” I said from my born in the 80´s generational perspective. 

I was from the last cohort of students that went through high school without any social media. The only Internet-based social interactions at the time were done through Microsoft Messenger and, emojis were only being discovered as a new form of communication. However, photography-girl belonged to the iPod and Facebook generation that already grew up with openly gay Hollywood celebrities.

“In my year of graduation in that high school, there was a lesbian couple, a few openly gay guys and a transgender girl… I never really had to come out” She firmly said narrating her experience.

I was amazed at how much society had changed in a very short period of time. I, on the contrary, had to fight tooth and nail my way out of the closet. I had some internalized homophobia that I carried with me for a while due to the less gay-friendly society that I happened to be landed on. Nevertheless, she told me it was not all “rainbows and fairy lights” for her either, as she mentioned that she experienced some underlying stigma and subtle discrimination from some of her peers. However, at least there were people to look up to that were standing out for themselves as members of the LGBT community… and that was already a step forward from my own teenage experience.

Photography-girl and I became friends that day. I even acted briefly as her career mentor before I finally moved away from the marketing world. Looking back, I am glad that my message mixed up led me to gain a younger ally in the community.

BORN AND BRED Street Graffiti in Brighton. Picture taken in August 2016.

 But coming back to dreadlocks-girl and the other side of the story… Well, she never replied back to my apologetic message… But, somehow, I knew that in the small pool of lesbians, we were going to bump into each other sooner or later… And so we did…

On Thursday night, I was having my first awkward date in a gay-friendly bar with a not very “good match” from the online world, when I saw a dreadlocks-girl entering through the door. She was also with a female companion and, judging from the way they were interacting, I would have guessed that they were on a first online date as well.

I got excited when I saw her entering the bar. I wanted to run towards her, apologize for the “message screwed up” and explained that I was a long way from being a Casanova (I would say that I am more of a nerdy-socially-award lesbian with zero games). The image that she formed of me was completely mistaken and I desperately wanted to amend that. But I thought that she probably had already forgotten about me and so, I contained my impulse of jumping into her to win back her favour… However, I could not contain myself from checking on her discretely over the shoulder of my boring date every now and then during the course of the night. 

She was looking stunning all dressed in white and, moved and interacted with such great confidence. I was feeling quite jealous of her date… “That could have been me if I would have paid more attention before pressing sent...” I kept on thinking.

At some point, as I was sighing on my chair looking at her while my date was in the ladies, our gaze crossed… And of course, I panicked!

Is it possible that she might remember me? What do I do now?

I innocently waved and waited for her to reply. She waved back. Her date had gone to the bar and so we were both sitting alone looking at each other across the room.

I move my head and raised my eyebrows in a clumsy attempt to say “Hey! How do you do?” from a distance. She smiled and repeated my gesture reciprocating my greetings but she moved her head to the direction of the bar pointing at her date as a way of communicating that she wasn’t alone. I made a resignation gesture and pointed at the empty chair in front of me with my date’s jacket to inform her that I also had company.

I wanted to ask her if they were “a thing” or not, so I pointed at the girl in the bar and then to her a few times back and forth. I’m not sure if my incomprehensible battery of gestures attempting to ask her about their “relationship status” was understood. But she shocked her head with determination. Then, she mimicked my air signs pointing at the empty chair in front of me and then at me several times.

Does she really want to know if I’m available? I’m I dreaming right now…?

I frenetically shocked my head trying to make it as clear as possible that my tame date and I were not “a thing”. 

At that moment, I saw her date coming back to her table, so I made a quick sign of a phone with my hand followed by a thumb up.

“Is it OK if I call you?” I meant to say.

She made a “later” sign while nodding and smiling before shifting her attention back to her date.

WHAT?!? Did gorgeous dreadlocks-girl just give me permission to contact her again…???!!!!???

I kept looking at her table with a stupid smile on my face until my date came back. I was already utterly not interested in my online date before dreadlocks-girl walked into the bar, but now, I was even more eager to wrap up with my uncomfortable unmatched date and go home.

On the night bus, I contacted dreadlocks-girl and this time I checked a few times the message before pressing sent... A few minutes later she replied back and we kept on texting for a while.

After that night, we chatted every now and then, but we never arranged a formal date until one night…

Graffiti of a girl found in Brighton (signed by Maleska). Picture taken August 2016.

 

To be continued…

The WHY of this blog...

Late twenties, lesbian and single could be a good mix of ingredients for an amateur blog, or at least are great keywords for search engine optimization since it seems that 70% of the content on the Internet is porn...

However, if you came across this blog looking for some real sex lesbian stories you have come to the wrong place. I'm sorry to disappoint you... I'm just a lonely "pretending-to-be adult" (with a small Peter Pan complex) gay girl that is bored and has decided to dedicate her time to writing as doesn't have anyone to cuddle with on the sofa on a Sunday evening.

I started a blog with all my online dating miseries as there are two things that I´m really passionate about (and possibly everyone else that is my age and shares my relationship status...): LOVE and STORIES. Isn't love what everyone is trying to find? Are we having a love-rush fever these days? Is love overrated?

In any case, I think that writing my stories will be a good reflective exercise for me as it might help me to gain some perspective and inside on "what is wrong with me?" and why I seem to be unable to meet someone despite all my efforts. 

Also, I thought that perhaps, sharing my experiences with strangers might help other people to see homosexuality and online dating as something "normal" (intended ironic use of quotation marks since I wonder WHAT is normal anyway). 

Moreover, I wish that perhaps my blog will help some other gay, lesbian, transsexual or just "different" human being that is isolated and desperate to find someone to relate to in this straight mainstream society. All of the work and hours dedicated to this blog will be worth it if I could help someone out there somewhere in the world to accept who they are, to be proud of being "different" and to have faith in love even though these days, in this over-connected fast moving society, love has never been harder to find. 

It seems to be very easy to swipe right and left and find an online match but, it is very difficult to really CONNECT with someone. Have the consumer mass media culture led by Hollywood in conjunction with Tinder and other mating applications distorted our perception of love and reality and has made us lose the capacity to love and be happy in real life?

Before I start, I would like to apologize for my bad spelling and grammar as English is not my first language, in fact, I learned it in my early twenties... I'm currently in my late twenties, scaringly (is that a word?) getting close to my thirties and... SINGLE... However, I decided to write in English since I live in an English-speaking country (UK), work in English, socialize in English and of course date in English... 

I have dated in other languages before (French and Spanish) but it makes little difference.... the basics are the same. So, just in case you were wondering that maybe the problem with my love life was a language barrier, I would say that it’s quite the opposite.

I believe that there is possibly a negative correlation between the number of words exchanged on a date and the probability to meet up again with a girl... So, the more your date talks during the date, the more likely it is that your idea of perfection and love becomes real, mundane and boring... No one is who we thought they might be from their profile... is not that they lie... it is just that our desperate mind, trying to find love, fills in the gaps with platonic ideas and some Disney fairy dust that disappear as soon as we start to get to know the real person.

A final note, I have changed all the names of my dates to protect their privacy (I might not remember some of them anyway…) and also to protect my privacy as even if I am not ashamed of my internet dating life, I would still like to be able to go on dates anonymously...

Anyway... I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed living and writing the stories in this blog….

There is NO ONE around you!!! THANKS TINDER!!