Champagne Cocktails are evil

it was a night to remember

except I can't - any of it really

Today I had a coffee date with a boy I don't remember meeting.

It could've been all my fault - spur of the moment urge to go out dancing, one fantastic rubber-armed friend who agreed not to stick to her resolve to spend the night in when she heard that I feared that I was officially becoming boring. So with one enthusiastic 'well we can't have that then!' the night was all on.

I made the champagne cocktails. I shouldnt've. One too many (who am I kidding, try 4 too many...) later and we rocked into a bar and my friend got chatting to some lovely but unattractive guy. I remember the trivia game, I remember him losing and agreeing to buy us drinks. And that's the last thing I remember.

Both me and my friend both don't remember the night - but I didn't feel shabby the next day so I'm half suspicious our drinks may've been spiked, but it's hard to claim that when I know we both deserved to be pretty bloody drunk anyways.

So I don't remember getting home, but I woke up in the early hours of the morning, jumped out of bed and wrapped a towel around me (oddly enough not questioning why I was sleeping naked) and popped to the loo. Got back to my room, hung the towel up, turned round and got the shock of my life. There was a boy in my bed! I took a closer look, and he looked familiar, something made me relax a little, not sure what my train of thought was or if I was capable of logistical process at that particular point in time, but I just crawled back into bed and snoozed.

Some time later there was rustling and I wasn't brave enough to open my eyes and attempt conversation while he threw his clothes back on. There was a little bit of time that passed then a brief peck on my not-quite-awake face and he was gone.

but he left a note. His name (the only way I was ever going to know what it was) his number, and a kinda cute little message. All I knew about him was that he must carry a notepad round with him, his name, and that he couldn't quite spell acquaintance.

So I rang him and he was surprisingly easy to chat to, turned out he was a comedian (literally) and a fellow aussie - can't escape them!

but we caught up for coffee today and Mr Funny is a lovely guy... cute too!

First time I've ever had a second meeting with a one night stand. I'd told him on our first phone conversation that I remembered little of Saturday night, but today I came clean and told him that the sum total of all I remember of the night adds up to about 8 minutes. Doesn't seem to bother him - though it's the weirdest thing not have absolutely no memory of the first time you kissed a particular boy... let alone the first time you shagged him.

Definitely not one to tell the grandchildren.



oh - and the second time we kissed was fine :)