What a weird weekend I’ve had.
On Saturday I was up early and raring to go, ready to meet Mr Rasputin and head out to the sunny streets of London; my first time in three weeks. I always find that something happens when I get back into Daygame; perhaps a little bit of excitement and nervousness builds up and then gets let out during those sets.
I only did six sets that day but with four numbers in the bag it was a good haul. Grigori did just as well and we both sat down for a congratulatory pizza and beer and sifted through the numbers we got, sending out our pings. We went for a couple of drinks afterwards but I was damn near exhausted so was happy to simply go home when he went off to bang a cat-sitting Venezuelan.
Nonetheless, by the time I got my exhausted self to bed that evening I already had two of the four numbers set up for dates the next day, and another for the day after. The fourth flaked, but I was hardly complaining.
The first lucky lady was a Portuguese girl I closed in Leicester Square who seemed very much into me; as I talked to her her eyes would go wide and she’d appear to completely mong out. The same thing happened on the date. Actually she later even reached out to touch my hair and the date got very touchy-feely, even though I didn’t kiss her. The odd thing is she kept on mentioning her boyfriend and during the date he repeatedly tried to call her. Every time he did she would huff a little, apologise, and reject the incoming call. I don’t know how she’s going to rationalise this in her head but she seems up for meeting again.
Next up that evening was an American girl who seemed very on; I thought it was a dead cert. The set had one of those lingering goodbyes where the girl can’t seem to break eye contact with you as she walks away. The date went swimmingly, even though I had to suffer her American-ness (delusions of grandeur and conviction of how man-woman interactions work), and I got her back to mine but couldn’t bust the LMR. We organised a second date at the end of the first and so now I just need to ping to keep her on my radar until then.
The third date was this afternoon; a tight-bodied Greek girl – the hottest of the bunch – who I took for a couple of drinks, kissed and walked her to my front door. She didn’t come in unfortunately and is only in London until Thursday meaning I practically only have one day to get her out and to close the deal. Otherwise all of that work will have gone to waste. Snif snif.
Now when I get back to work tomorrow and my colleagues ask me: “so how was your weekend?”, I’ll answer “oh it was nice, very relaxing”, and leave it at that.