Australasian date




Well, the last date I went on– Fuck, was it that long ago? Well, it went nowhere as we didn’t fancy each other. I went on another over the bank holiday, again with a girl off Facebook. This time she’s older than me, and blonde, and fit. This is a winning combination. I like it.


We hit Australasia, a pimp underground venue on Deansgate. Steep but classy. Cocktails: brilliant. We had a good talk. We got on well, I think. Not even a kiss at the end of the night, though. I have to remind myself that the majority of girls I dated- there was a spurge in my early twenties- were sluts who kissed me the moment they met me. This time she’s a classy bird who takes things one step at a time. Mental note: no kiss doesn’t necessarily mean no interest.


Question. Does she still like me?


Well, we’re still texting/phoning, albeit irregularly. She’s telling me she’s got a lot of work lined up at uni. She must have known this before going out with me on that one date though, right? I get the feeling that she doesn’t like me as much as I like her…


But you know what? Fuck worrying about that. Fuck getting one-itis over her or anyone else. If she wants me, she’ll respond to texts and meet up. It’s that fucking fear- fear of a woman losing interest- that women can sense, causing them to flake out anyway. I am happier now than I’ve ever been. I’ve got a holiday in Ibiza lined up, I’m making more friends all the time and I’ve got a night out tonight too. Prohibition again, for the record. Despite sexual paranoia, frustration and a sense of abandonment from my friends all settling down, I am happier than ever. Australasia Girl can take the bait, or she can not. In the meantime, I should fire out some bids tonight…



One thought on “Australasian date

  1. Pingback: Mate Date | Patrick Bateman's Blog

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