*DISCLAIMER: As misleading as the title of this post may be, I did not get engaged. Nor did I partake in any illegal substance abuse.
OK. Anyway. Hi. So, let’s cast our minds back to June 2014.. I remember it vividly. It was around 300 degrees (total exaggeration) in London, the tubes were grossly sweaty and overcrowded (not an exaggeration) and I was on my way to Manchester to meet a boy. (*Oooooh* I hear you saying)
Quick background story: I had been speaking to this guy – let’s call him Dick – I had been speaking to Dick for a good few years through Twitter. On and off. A friend (at the time) actually started dating him, and that’s how I came to get to know Dick. They both dated for a while, it seemed very serious, until Dick hit me up on the private, we started flirting – I obviously felt horrible (No, I didn’t) that we were talking behind my friend (at the time)’s back, but we had such a connection. We made a cuter couple.
After a while, Dick & my now ex-friend broke things off, and I thought it would be the PERFECT time for me to swoop in and live happily ever after… But, no. Dick became a dick.
I would like to state that Dick is basically 30, but for some reason, he treated Twitter like a 14-year-old girl pining after One Direction – but in Dick’s case, One Direction were actually gay men (You know what I mean!) It was like he craved their attention. Dick was handsome and charming, in a pretty crude way. He began tweeting a lot of other guys, explaining how moist his ‘vagina’ got after seeing their pictures. It obviously infuriated me because I felt that our months of emailing back and forth actually meant nothing. I told Dick straight that he was an immature douchebag, and we fell out.
Now a year later, I decided to reach back out to Dick – maybe he had grown up, right? WRONG. He hadn’t. But still, people change…? WRONG. Anyway, I’m totally ruining the story. We got back in touch, exchanged a heap of text messages, late night phone calls – He seemed like the good old Dick. He was into fitness now, he seemed uber-positive about everything, which is actually really annoying, but still – positivity is positive, right? He ate organic all the time (to the point of obsession) so I made myself believe that people really could come to their senses and change.
Dick then decided to invite me to stay at his place in Manchester. I felt like perhaps by me taking a leap of faith, that the universe would reward me and turn my life into a Nicholas Sparks movie. He would be the Ryan Gosling (he had that whole blonde hair/rugged beard thang going but by no means is he Gosling hot) and I would be the Rachel McAdams. (I have a great set of tits)
This takes us back to present day, June 2014. It’s a Friday afternoon. I’ve arrived at Euston Station. The nerves have hit me like I had guzzled a litre full of laxatives. I’m a scaredy-cat when it comes to meeting guys, and here I am, travelling cross-country for someone. I decided to settle my stomach and chow down on a Double XL Bacon Cheeseburger and a Diet Coke like a famished orphan.
The POA was that Dick would get me from the station in his brand new Ferrari that he hadn’t shut up about all week (Lesbi-honest, if I had just bought a Ferrari, I would be banging on about it, too!) However, once I got to Manchester, he apparently didn’t know how to fill it up with fuel so I caught a taxi – which wasn’t a problem. To be honest, I had been really demanding by requesting all types of food, snacks and beverages, so even stevens I guess?
I am now there. I have arrived. I am in his apartment. Holy shitballs. He’s taller than I thought. Better looking in person (Still not Ryan Gosling hot). He was honestly so polite and kind, and really sweet. He went to so much effort for me. I felt so special. His apartment is close to the canal, and he has this big terrace area where we sat and drank wine, listening to music, talking about life and travelling… We were flirting. He complimented my legs, my skin complexion, told me I was the most gorgeous person he had ever met. hinted at marriage (WTF? But OK) and completely mocked my voice and said I sounded like Ja’mie when I spoke.
It really was the perfect evening. Until it spiraled out of control. His phone rang at around 11:30pm, I think? It was his best friend, they asked if they could come over, he said yes. I was obviously nervous and truth be told, a little bit annoyed but by this point we had drunk about two bottles of wine, so I could either be annoyed or crack open another bottle and enjoy the company.
His best friends arrived – a boyfriend and girlfriend duo – Let’s call them Shane & Katy. I loved Shane & Katy. They made me feel so welcome there. Even though they had interrupted mine and Dick’s evening, I couldn’t be happier. We had more drinks flowing, the music got louder, we were dancing around like leprechauns on crack. It’s now probably around 2am. I had been invited to Dubai. Dick’s best friend Shane was in love with me and told me I was the perfect guy for Dick. I obviously agreed.
Now it all gets a little bit bizarre…
I went for a little bathroom break, returned outside, only to be greeted by Dick bringing out two random strangers. I decided to ask Katy “Who the fuck are they?” She had no idea. I figured surely someone who had known Dick for years would know his friends. But the newbies weren’t friends of Dicks, the new folks were strangers off the street. So, to clarify, Dick invited strangers from the street to join, what was originally our date night. However, it’s his house. He can do what he likes. (FYI – due to the Data Protection Act, let’s call the new guests Lester & Lucy. They are also boyfriend and girlfriend) So now it’s me, Dick, his best friends Shane & Katy, and the strangers Lester & Lucy.
Dick was drunk, and he completely changed after a drink. I became a hella lot more outgoing, whilst Dick was quite pensive and introvert. On his phone a lot. That sorta thing. This was until Dick set his sights on Lester. At first, it was little things. They were dancing together, cracking jokes, and basically all over each other. I think Dick’s friend Shane could tell I was annoyed, even though I put on my best smile, so he tried to show me some attention and in a way, console me, but I wasn’t interested. Lester’s girlfriend Lucy appeared oblivious to the whole thing, but she was too busy gurning her face off to realise I suppose. (We’ll get back to that)
About 10 minutes went by, and I realised that Dick & Lester were MIA. At this point, images of Dick’s old tweets and whore-ish ways are flashing through my mind – And I know what it’s like to try and get your way with a straight guy. I knew what Dick had in mind.
I decided to go on a little hunt around Dick’s apartment, opening every door I could find. They weren’t canoodling in the kitchen, banging in the boiler cupboard, boning in the bedroom or fornicating in the foyer… But one door was left. The bathroom. I pushed it open and Lester is sitting on the edge of the bath.
“Oh, sorry!” I said, re-closing the door
“Alright, pal” He replied
Just as I went to close the door, Dick shouts out from behind it “I’m just doing a piss. Be out in a minute”
I closed the door and I just felt this weight come over me. My heart was racing. I was so drunk, and all I could think about was what could two strangers be doing in the bathroom together? And why the fuck is Lester just watching him pee? I’m not an idiot but I want to give Dick the benefit of the doubt.
At the end of the day, we’re not in a relationship. However, I think we both had intentions of seeing where things went with us over the weekend. So I just felt it was really disrespectful to not treat me like a guest who had travelled hundreds of miles to meet you. Instead, by 2am, I was treated like I wasn’t there and it was fucking Lester who had come all the way to meet you. Lester walked all of a fucking mile over a foot bridge.
I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a drink, and I turn to my left and see a plate full of cocaine with lines all racked up. (This was why Lucy was so oblivious to Lester’s antics. She came for the coke) But seriously – what the fuck is this?! Not cool. I get that people do drugs, it’s the norm. I don’t like it, but I don’t judge people for doing it on a night out. It happens. But come on, dude? You’re 30. You’re at home. What are you achieving by snorting this? So gross. My opinion on Dick is very quickly changing. The “immature douchebag” I had labelled him earlier was becoming more and more apparent.
So here I am, standing in the kitchen with a bottle of Grey Goose, reading a fucking picture frame with the lyrics to ‘Wake Me Up’ by Avicii inside that his sister bought him, and it could not be more fucking appropriate. Wake me up when it’s all over.
Dick emerges from the bathroom, re-buckling his stupid Hermes belt, which quite frankly, the H may aswell stand for Heinous Asshole for all I care. He comes over to me, kisses me, and asks me to join him in the bedroom. His mouth tasted like bleach, but that was the drugs.
Reluctantly, I go. Because I’m a fucking twat.
I suppose I went because I wanted to prove to him that I was the better choice, and worth waiting for, and all these other reasons I shouldn’t have to justify by having sex with the man.
We started getting into it. He apologised for having such a small penis, but I told him I don’t care about size. I’m hardly Jon Hamms myself. About 5 minutes into foreplay, Dick makes the classic dick move and asks “If you could have anyone join us right now, who would it be?”
“Zac Efron” I replied. (Because, who wouldn’t?!)
“OK.. What about people that are here?” He asked
Now I want to fucking kill you. I thought it best to say something that might piss him off, because I knew what he was thinking. He wanted lanky fucking Lester to join us. So I went with his best friend.
“Well, Shane’s hot – I’d like him to come in on this. What about you?” I said.
He didn’t even batter an eyelid!
“I want that guy (he means Lester) out there to come in and find us” Dick replied
“Oh really?” I questioned
“Yeah, he’s got a huge c**k” Dick mentioned
“And how do you know that?” I asked.
My inner Veronica Mars was in full swing. SUCH a detective, seriously.
“I got a hold of it in the toilet earlier. When he pulled his trousers down, I grabbed it” Dick said.
Are you seething as much as I am, readers? Because trust me. My blood still boils to this day.
I finished up in there with him and walked out. Now, I don’t even want to look at this Lester guy (which by the way, he was like a 5.5 at most) and his poor unknowing girlfriend Lucy. I also just want to leave entirely, but it’s 4am. My train home isn’t until Sunday. What the hell am I going to do?
Dick is back to paying a ton of attention to Lester, they’re all blah-ing about Dick’s mum and how wealthy she is and that she survived the war or something, and how her business is revolutionary? Like, it’s a fucking psychic call centre. I don’t care if she gave birth to Martin Luther King at this point. I want you all to shut the fuck up and leave.
Dick decides to get in touch with his dealer again and order another round of drugs (like, really?! Ugh.) I have Lucy telling me how amazing the coke is, I have Lester basically feeling Dick up in front of me like they’re best buds or something and Shane still trying to convince me to fly to Dubai. I just want to leave. I text basically all of my friends, but obviously there was no answer as they were all asleep. I sent a message to my brother James in LA who was with his friend John, due to the time difference, he would be awake… I explained the situation and they both agreed I should go… then it transpires that Dick sent a message to my brother earlier that day… WHAT?!
Yeah. Apparently Dick sent my brother a message to tell him about me going up there. My brother didn’t say much more, apart from the fact that Dick is gross. My feelings were perhaps Dick got a bit too descriptive with him. But seriously, where the fuck do you get off telling my brother about my visit? That is my business to discuss with my family. It all seemed really f*cking shady. My brother gave me some wise, age old advice, and ended our conversation by saying “I suggest you LEAVE”.
It finally gets to 5:30am. Lester & Lucy leave. Thank God. Katy is asleep. Shane is still dancing. Dick decides to take off his ring and put it on my finger, asking me to “look after it”?
I don’t want to look after your ring. I’m not sure if this is some shitty metaphor you’re trying to pull, like how you trust me with your jewellery, or want to commit to me, or apologise for your shady behaviour, but I don’t want it. I want it off my finger. I want it to be gone. So, after about 10 minutes trying to get it off, I give it back, and he seems confused.
Finally, Shane & Katy decide to leave at around 6:00am. Shane asks what our plans are for the next day. Dick says he might drive us over to his Mum’s house to meet her. WHAT?! I am not meeting your mother. Are you kidding me?
I left it open for discussion and just smiled. I said goodbye to Shane & Katy because I’ll actually miss them.
After they left, I decided to tell Dick that I may want to leave in the morning (it’s already the morning) because I don’t feel comfortable. He started apologising for the drugs, but for some reason, I couldn’t be up front and tell him the only reason I felt uncomfortable was because I thought he was a disrespectful man-slut who completely mugged me off.
After the less-than-stellar discussion, we spoke about two words to eachother, I woke up less than two hours later at 8am, got ready, ordered an Uber and left. I transferred my ticket and got the hell out of there.
Dick still hasn’t text me or called me to see if I got home OK. Part of me wonders what would’ve happened if I’d have stayed. Another part tells me I dodged a bullet by seeing his true colours. Another part tells me it’s karma for meddling in his initial relationship all those years ago.
You live and you learn. A leopard never changes its spots. Seasons change; people don’t. And sometimes, date’s fucking SUCK. Yes, you had probably forgotten this was a date. A weekend that was supposed to be filled with cute date things, like picnics and dinners. It had formed into a scandalous evening of drugs, booze, strangers and slutty behaviour. Not my scene.
This experience has made me aware that just because you put yourself out there, it doesn’t mean it all falls into place. Life isn’t a Nicholas Sparks movie. This felt more like Trainspotting.
Get it? Trainspotting? Drugs? I got on a train? – That was a terrible pun, I’m sorry