#66: Dead Ringer

It was at the end of a long, hard week of work that I met Joanna, one September evening. On the surface she seemed a bit quirky, but underneath that thin veneer of normalcy lay a simmering cauldron of crazy (T).

Given that I was feeling sleepy I’d promised myself that I’d go for idates that evening (T); I figured that getting a girl into a pub for just one drink would feel like a decent victory even if it didn’t lead to a second drink and onwards for an SDL.

I’d done one set in about 45 minutes (T) when I was coming back towards Covent Garden and walked by the Tesco. I saw Joanna coming towards me from the market and I marked her out as my next set. Her bright blonde hair in two braids made her look like a viking (T) and so I had my tease in hand, plus she had her tits half out so the decision was easy.

Though she was a bit suspicious at first we quickly fell into a conversation over the differences between northerners and southerners (T). I could see her pink bra, and having already touched her hair and feeling a little ballsy, I reached over and touched it slightly while pointing out that I liked the colour, before reprimanding myself for not being a gentleman (of course!) (T). The fact she accepted that was an excellent signal and so I started probing her logistics to see if she was free for an idate (T). It turns out she was, and so we hightailed it back the way I came and went to the Salisbury pub.

Although we didn’t go straight there: at first she said there was a pub nearby where they’d filmed Harry Potter and that sounded slightly interesting so I agreed to it. She led me down an alleyway in Covent Garden but we couldn’t find it, and that’s how we ended up at the Salisbury.

We sat down with a pint each (T) and I began poking and prodding her leg while going through my escalation, which she accepted eagerly. I found out that she was 30 – she didn’t look it though in my honest opinion – but she was chubbier than I’d initially thought; her clothes had hid it. I downgraded her from a seven to a six. Joanna worked in theatre and made some of her own clothes, which provided a great opportunity to increase the kino and have a look.

She looked like she was absolutely gagging for it, leaning forward and giving me the big eyes, I began to count my chickens, but when I tried to kiss her, she pulled back. What a whore!

“This is very fast!” (T) she said, “do you always do this?”

“Well yes I’ve been on dates before,” I replied, “It’s okay, I’ll try again later.”

She scoffed a little, “we can touch but we can’t kiss.”

There’s always something a bit disgusting about a girl who sets herself up as the prize in such an obvious way. In reality this girl was lucky that I was sitting there with her.

We carried on talking and she gave me that look again but refused to kiss. I was left scratching my noggin but still offered the second drink in another pub and she seemed reticent.

Then I got another little taste of the craziness: she went to the bathroom and came back and sat down.

“Come on,” I told her, “let’s go find that Harry Potter pub.”

And she smiled and agreed, completely changing her tune.

We went back down the alleyway we’d approached from. I maybe anonymity was all she needed to kiss me but all I got was a peck. Still though, it was progress. Then she gave me a much higher dose of craziness: pretending to throw herself to the side as if we were ballroom dancing while I made sure she didn’t fall on the pavement.

We did find a hidden pub towards Trafalgar Square and sat in the back on stools. Well, I stood. Joanna told me she “loved to dance” and then started hurling herself around in front of me, trying to look sexy. She’d come in close and grind on me then retreat. But it was not executed well I must say.

“You like to tease don’t you,” I told her (T).

“Yes.”

It was a mistake on my part: I’d just framed her as something which I didn’t want her to embody. Now I’d got that stuck in her crazy little head she wouldn’t let it go. Oh wait, until…

“You know you look a bit like the woman who played Phoebe in Friends.”

She then whipped out her phone and Googled the character, before showing me picture after picture and demanding to know what is was that made them look similar.

At this point you may be asking yourself: why didn’t you just leave? I guess my notch count hyena ain’t nearly finished with me yet…

From that pub I bounced her to a bar near mine where I sat down, sipping an Old Fashioned, and she danced in front of me. If you took that statement in a vacuum it might have sounded cool but in real life it was not. I’ll give it to her: her pace was frenetic. And the variety of moves was excellent. It just wasn’t having the effect I think she wanted it to have. She kept on looking at me with supposedly sexy eyes; I kept a straight face but internally I just wanted it to end. As people passed us by I’d look into their eyes and give them an imploring look as if to apologise for her behaviour. Well, only half apologise, internally I thought her throwing herself around was hilarious! It was like something out of The Inbetweeners.

Just let her tire herself out, I thought to myself. It’s like taking your kids to the park. (T)

Unfortunately, that was just a little bit too true. After 45 minutes of LMR I got my +1 with a starfish. I noticed that she was just beginning her period and so perhaps that explained her craziness.

Yours unfaithfully,

Thomas Crown

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