Riding the Subway of Shame.

So I wasn’t really planning on seeing Spanish Dave again this weekend but he texted yesterday arvo to ask if I fancied meeting up for dinner.

I definitely fancied him more second time around, He’s got lovely eyes and I do like the non-spanish Spanish look. He was less trying to make me laugh than our first date but it was still a really good evening. I think he’s a little bit worried about my fake racism. No one really does that over here- he sometimes looks a bit worried- as if I really mean it. I think I need to explain before he gets the wrong idea.

We went for mussels and a lovely bottle of wine- it was ever so grown up. I’m a massive pudding fan but he’d asked for the bill and paid whilst I was still waffling on about my nieces and childhood la la la. Could have done with some chocolate cake but he obviously had other plans.

We were just round the corner from his and it was one of those ‘get through the door and instantly remove all clothing’ nights. I did feel a little bit like the dinner was just offered on some sort of pretense of  this being a ‘date’ rather than just a shag, but not so much that I was actually bothered. We both needed to eat. We did that and then we got down to business





I’m not sure how romantic any of this is but as I was just quite merry last night the actual sexual intercourse (scientific term) was even better. Except the part where we were ‘doing it’ facing the mirror and I could see how much I needed to do some sit ups- very off putting. Nothing like being banged from behind and only being concerned with your extra chubb wobbling. I apologise for the word ‘banged’ there.

He had been hard at work cleaning his apartment and the bathroom was almost spotless- well as clean as a really old bathroom can get. So many of these apartment buildings in Brooklyn are proper old school. And he’d had a good tidy up in the bedroom too- I could actually tell which was the bed and which was the floor. But the cleaning had also revealed something very disturbing….

In one room was all his martial arts stuff- gloves and pads etc- cool yeah? But in another room the bookcase was full of…….. wait for it…………………………………

Dungeons and Dragons books.

God. Yes. I know. I just fucked a genuine nerd/geek/dork.

I really believe this is the first Dungeon Master I have ever slept with, so it’s one to mark off the list eh?

He was in the shower when I found the books so I went to ask about them. He got a little bit defensive- it may have been that I was cracking up when I asked. It turns out I’m not the first woman to have been slightly disturbed by this hobby. The way he tells it- Dungeons and Dragons is just some guys sitting round, drinking beer, playing some kind of dice game…..

I tried to keep a straight face whilst he told me all of this but it was a bit tricky. I mean if it’s not geeky and weird why do so many geeks and weirdos play it. OMG- just had a brilliant idea! Maybe I should ask if I could go along next time to the next game? Wow. I could say I’ve ACTUALLY played D&D.

Then we had a smoke out of a pipe like a pair of teenagers but to be honest that just made us both really tired and we went to bed.

Anyhoo. Good night. I’m not sure where this is going but we’ll see… I came home on the subway wearing a little white frilly dress this morning whilst it was raining and people had coats on. But I had a big smile on my face until Elise caught me on the steps- she was off to work and I was coming home like the dirty stop out I really am.


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