Following my date with the bicycle chain oiler, I was understandably more wary of Danish men, but still eager to get out there and see what else they had to offer besides regimented procedures and stale pick-up lines. But before I even had the chance to find a new prospect, fate stepped in and took control of the situation.
On the day in question, I’d just moved into my new place – a side-effect of my recent break-up and subsequent eviction. Tired and exhausted, I had no plans to go out, yet within hours of moving into my new place, a few ‘housewarming’ drinks had made me warmer than anticipated and I was already wanting to neck my new flatmate – I needed a quick out.
Knowing my best friend, a gorgeous fellow foreigner, was currently on a date with a Danish man and in need of company (at least that was my logic at the time), I decided to crash their date. Whilst I’m not usually one for third-wheeling, desperate situations always call for desperate measures.
Once inside the local bar, I knew this was going to be an evening I’d never forget.
Mr Touchy, as I like to call him, immediately caught my attention – I mean who could miss him! Unable to keep his hands to himself, this cocky bastard really was good looking, but God didn’t he know it.
Once seated, I couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as he basically tried to screw my friend from across the table, rubbing her hands and playing footsie – the strictly unAustralian rules version. More than a little aghast at his forward behaviour, my friend and I could do nothing but sit there in muted and amused horror.
It was Mr Touchy’s next antics that have made him a mythical household name amongst our inner circle. Obviously looking to up his game, he proceeded to growl like a bitch on heat. Now whilst I won’t ever be able to describe this glorious move in all its magic, I can tell you that as he raised his hands, pawing and clawing and miaowing like a mountain lion, I realised I was watching very possibly one of the most spectacular first date moves of all time.
Realising that his date wasn’t really going to plan, ‘Mr Touchy, the Mountain Lion’ promptly sent out a distress signal and shortly afterwards his friend, Mr Normal (by comparison), arrived.
With this new company in tow, I wondered whether my girlfriend’s date would be resurrected or whether the four of us would have to call it a night.
Luckily things started to pick up, and in no time at all the conversation had turned to sex – a topic that was initially amusing. Amusing, that is, until my girlfriend’s date, in an attempt at his definition of amusing, began talking about the live sex club he’d been to and how we should all visit one together. Practically panting as he talked about this club, it became obvious that it was time to call the date a night, at least for those two.
Mr Normal, however, had caught my eye, and so off we headed to another bar, interested in what may await me …