Fernando loves a text message.

So after the 7 hr long date culminating in the hallway fornication the saga with the be-tattooed, be-muscled Brazilian continues….

So I awoke the next morning, hung-over, slightly sore but with a smile on my face. It had been a very successful date, out of the blue and I sort of expected to wake up to a text from Fernando. In fact I half-heartedly watched my phone all day whilst out with friends but he finally got in touch saying that his phone had run out of battery and he’d been out all day. Well that was said over three messages and the fourth said ‘Last night was so amazing! Can’t wait to see you again! What are you doing tonight?’

Now if I’d had a wax, wasn’t feeling so hung over and didn’t have such massive under-eye bags I would have jumped at the chance to meet up again and carry on where we’d left off but I felt and looked rough and was dying to get back to bed. There followed a barrage of texts about how good the night had been and how he would give me the best massage of my life (oh boys, if only I hadn’t heard it so many times…) and how he just wanted to chill out and wanted to do it with me. I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t flattered….

The next day was similar- Easter Sunday and I went to a lovely Lovebird family celebration full of delicious food- Fernando sent me texts calling me gorgeous and asking how my day was going, saying he missed me etc. Not that I have a problem with all this attention but to be honest I’m far too impatient to just text back and forth all day. I asked if he was busy on Wednesday, saying I would finish work about 6pm and how about a sober second date?

He replied that ‘Hahahaha no, hanging out drunk worked perfect for us! I can’t forget our date on Friday!’ I was just thinking ‘oh I see…. you made all this stuff up about wanting me to be your girlfriend etc, now I see what you really meant’ when he texted again to say “Just the second part of the last message was serious, I keep thinking constantly about our date’.

‘But maybe we could do something sober.’

‘Or not.’

At this point I just left it for him to think about. I like it when men take the lead at least in some small way. A second date, I feel, is pretty crucial and it always bodes well if the man decides on somewhere to go or at least comes up with a suggestion or two. Except if you’re my ex boyfriend Ryan, otherwise known as The Disappointment, who used to promise all sorts and then we’d end up at his with a chinese takeaway on a Sunday night. Oh but once he took me to a really nice spa where you could go nude. He refused to go nude or try the sensory deprivation tank (probably worried the emptiness in his head would be deafening) and then told me to ‘hurry up (enjoying myself)’ as he had to do some invoices that afternoon. What a fucking treat that was…

Anyhoo- I digress. We finally arranged to meet on the Wednesday eve. I came up with a plan of meeting at an arty farty cinema with cafe attached for some food first and then a film. Not much enthusiasm but some more texts about how he really wanted to see me. I reasoned that he was really busy working on this Brazilian TV show him and his brother produce. Along came Weds, I was feeling pretty tired and my face was still a mess from his beard attack on Friday so I wasn’t totally gutted when it became clear he wasn’t going to be finished in time.

I say ‘became clear’ as he didn’t exactly say ‘Hi there, I’m really sorry, work has over-run and I can’t possibly get away in time to meet you. Can we postpone? Again I’m sorry for messing you around’ or at least something along those lines.

What he in fact did really showed his 30 years. He sort of hinted on the day that he might not be finished in time for dinner. Then about the time I would have been getting ready to leave the house to meet him (if I hadn’t learnt to read the signals after many years of crap blokes) he started some joke about my babysitting rates (I’m a nanny) and whether I charged more for overnight…

As I said I wasn’t too bothered because I wasn’t feeling my best anyway and we arranged to meet on Saturday. He asked if I’d prefer daytime or evening and I said daytime- reasoning that if we had some sober time together we could then go out in the evening if we both wanted to.

Basically I wasn’t going to meet up, drink a bottle of wine and jump into bed with him. I really have got the stage where sober(ish) sex is far more enjoyable for me. We had such a strong physical attraction that we both knew sex was on the cards, I had not had any for a while and I wanted it to be good- ie not in the filthy hallway again.

I didn’t hear from Fernando on the Friday but wasn’t bothered. I went to have a Brazilian (ha ha) wax in preparation- done by a Russian lady called Esther. The first time I went it was amazing, quick, bloody painful but very thorough. This time was not so good… Esther appeared to be having a fight with the other lady who worked at the salon, as they kept shouting at each other through the door in what I presumed was Russian. This meant that Esther wasn’t really paying much attention to my lady garden. No I’ve never actually called it that before….

The result of this lack of attention was one foot covered in wax and a very, very sore arse. So sore in fact that I had to use some of the baby’s Butt Paste to be able to sleep, walking was very difficult for a couple of days and I paid $40 for the privilege.

LSS- Fernando didn’t turn up until 8.30pm. After arranging to spend the day together. I was just walking out of the cafe I’d waited in for an hour after he texted numerous times throughout the day extending the meeting time until it actually fitted what he wanted. Which was to meet up, have some food, get drunk together and have sex. Anywhere as far as he was concerned. The problem was that I’d gone off the whole idea by this point. HIs messing me around on Wednesday night and then  again on Saturday had had the same effect as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on Fernando as he was just getting the old Brazilian cock out in the hallway.

We had a nice enough dinner after he had pretty much begged me not to go home. He gave a big old long excuse about how he’d been catching up on sleep after a heavy work week. TRUTH- he gone out and got drunk the night before. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. Nope. Never said that before but I felt it fitted here. I spent most of my twenties coming up with complete bullshit excuses to cover for my almost permanent hangovers.

Fernando spent most of the meal trying to get me to join in his sexual conversations… I felt the urge to talk about the drainage system of New York more. He kept trying to put his hand up my skirt, he also grabbed me every time I got up to use the bog and pulled me down so he could stick his tongue right down my throat. It’s funny how these things had seemed great a week previously after an entire bottle of wine. Now I was pretty sober and pissed off.

HONESTY goes a very long way with me. All the crap about him wanting me to be his girlfriend, how he was missing me during the week (yeah, I know, fingers down the throat) and really all he wanted was me to fit in around the rest of his boy life and have sex with him. Which I would have happily done if he’d explained that. I mean, Fernando is hot, and funny and intelligent but just not emotionally mature enough to stop thinking that women need to be tricked into sex.

He tried so hard to get me to go home with him but in the end I wasn’t just disappointed with him I was properly pissed off. I told him I was going home alone, that I was tired and that I didn’t want to go to his house. I think he thought I was maybe playing some sort of hard to get game as he just kept on manhandling me (as my Mum would say).

We stood on my doorstop and he was just ramming his tongue down my throat and desperately trying to put his hand up my dress. In the end I had to ask him to stand away from the door so I could unlock it without fear of him trying to come in with me. Yes, he got that bad. I asked him when we were going to meet up again? And could he come up with an actual time and stick to it. Then, I said, I would happily come home with him. He didn’t answer the question…….and I’ve not heard from him since.



1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. tams
    May 01, 2012 @ 12:21:37

    NOB END!


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