34 Minutes Pt 2

I don’t use an iPhone for games, am way too sophisticated for that. I use my iPhone to checkout distances between locations. You know like how many k’s to the next pub, how many k’s to my last ex's place from ‘current location’, how many k’s between my last ex and my next ex. That kind of thing.  Really pertinent stuff.

After 34 minutes of iPhone and vodka tricks, one can become quite flappable. Luckily my date finally sauntered in with some sexy black evening gown and heels. I felt way underdressed in my jeans and country-girl shirt (a recent style I was trialling with large success).

I ordered Ms ‘34 Minutes’ a drink and watched her settle into a bar stool awkwardly, anxiously fumble with her purse and drop it. I tried to calm her by offering a playful jest like “You were 19 minutes late”. Her cross-eyed stare back conveyed pretty plainly we didn’t have a similar sense of humour. So my next strategy was to get her to talk (fortunately much easier). All I had to do was release inquisitive directives in her periphery at timely intervals and employ my sincerest listening face.

3 hours later she took a breath and declared “wow you are really interesting” which I found extraordinary. I let her know I was weary by setting free a wide yawn and simultaneously scraping my chair heavily.

After that she stalked me with a few private messages on PinkSofa.com, which I politely responded to (website etiquette), but when she started repeating herself it became easier to file her interruptions into a new file labelled “Be Wary – Date Shows Signs Of Dementia”.