Took myself out -as I usually do for my Saturday night out.
A 'hello' with an American accent belonging to a not unsightly gentleman greeted me after I had been sitting for a while. Enter Bruce - the only man called Bruce that I have met in Australia - and he is from the States!. Bruce lives in Adelaide, originally from Seattle and is Regional Director for a medical supplies company. He is also an ex basketball player.
Yep, so we are talking tall, physically buff, with that tight army kind of look - blue eyes and a close no. 3 head shave.
I initially noticed him as a Pamela Anderson look-a-like - bit less tacky but more of a cougar (yes, I can call a kettle black!) was chatting him up animatedly with her plumped up lips. After his hello he was definitely qualifying his leads as he mentioned that two Melbourne lassies had also asked him to join them (perhaps he had images of a menage a trois). He stated that if I wasn't interested in talking to him then he would talk to these two ladies instead. I told him to do whatever he wanted, but if he wanted to talk to me I wasn't going anywhere (isn't old age great for nonchalance).
It was his last night after a weeks holiday in Port Douglas so I think he was hoping for a right royal send off.
He seemed a caring, interesting guy, who was intellectually stimulating, and actually seemed interested in me - though overdoing it a bit with the gushing compliments me thinks. Asking questions like 'what makes you happy', 'what do you find fulfilling'. Then enter sound effects - the slide of the needle on a gramophone record. I rub my hand across his well buffed chest as my hand is placed there to feel the solid mound of his pectorals and all I feel is the prickles of a shaved chest - aaaagh! (pet hate.. shaven chests!). I make some jokes, but my sense of humour, sarcasm and bad jokes, tend to fall a bit flat. As his long frame rises and walks off - I am thinking - is that a stoop and are his legs bowed? Trying to think whether he looks well preserved late 50's in some light or mid 40's in other light. I ask if he likes dancing - 'not to this music' as the rhythms of Latin American music come over the speaker. I write my contact details on the back of my Chris Cornell ticket - who he didn't know but he did save himself and when I mentioned Soundgarden he had heard of them (phew!).
I left him gasping as I said that I was going to leave and join my friends, Rob and Jane.
Half an hour later I left (whilst answering my phone as Bruce called to wish me well and thank me for the evening) with my friends and we were going to go back to their place with another couple that were staying with them. I offered to drive…..
One police road block and 0.054 points later I was walking away with my summons for a drunk driving charge on 23rd November and wondering where I could purchase a used bicycle.
Well, that serves me right!
Looking forward a bit to Sunday as I was due to meet with Darren (Plenty of Fish date) at lunchtime at the bungy jumping centre where we were going to while away the day looking at backpackers plummet to their drops all with a beer.
I messaged him last night to say that since I am not allowed to touch my car for 24 hours that plan has to change.
His last correspondence:
Oh dear... seems that the best part of POF is looking at these - what kind of perverted humour do I have. But I do suffer as I usually end up getting replies as there is a counter and id on each profile saying who has looked at your picture so you know who is interested in you... whoops!
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