Ade laughed – he was going through the motions with his buddies, but was wishing he was home. They’d been meeting at the pub every Sunday afternoon, to watch the football, for months; but he was relieved that this was the last game of the season. It was starting to get boring. His five friends and him had got friendly with a few of the women in The Bull & Bush and they always flirted with them. He listened as Gav hit on an attractive Australian blonde with one of his best lines,
“OK, so I came over here to buy you a drink, but it bothers me. What if we get on really well and have a few more drinks? The next thing we know you’re giving me your number because I'm way too shy to ask for it and I finally get up the nerve to call you. I take you to the cinema; we have a few fantastic meals out. I relax, you relax, we go out a few more times and get to know each other's friends? We start spending some serious time together and then the sexual tension bursts and we have the most incredible, intense sex life that blows us both away. We realise that our relationship is solid and so you move into my flat, we eventually get married, we both get promoted and so we buy a bigger house. You really want babies, but I really want freedom, but we have a kid anyway, only to find that I become resentful. Then the sparks begin fading and we have 2 more beautiful children to rekindle the flame. Then I work far too much, just to keep up with the bills. Because of this I have no time for you which makes you stressed and down and you and stop taking really good care of yourself. So, then I become worried about our lack of sex life, and my self-confidence plummets – I turn to someone else, because I am really immature sometimes, and have an affair and then it gets really awful, cos I’m loving the sexual gratification. You find out, cos you’re smart and clever and beautiful and you throw me out. But then we have to explain to the children why Mummy and Daddy are splitting up. God, it’s just so sad. Think about the children…... So, for God's sake, if you let me buy you a drink, and we hit it off, let's just keep it sexual, because we both know where it's going.”
Ade reads her face as she looks at Gav with a twinkle in her eye. He couldn’t fathom whether it was a twinkle of humour or a flicker of pity, but he wasn’t hanging around to find out. He had planned to write some grittier pieces this week and wanted to research the rise of the British chat show, hoping to interview some of the BBC officials later in the week. He hadn’t yet written his short ‘Ade Gets Laid’ column, despite having plenty of opportunities over the weekend to listen to the nagging voice of the bulge in his boxers, urging him to find another beautiful woman to take home. He was confused lately though and it was disabling his babe radar. He finished his pint and sneaked out – leaving his friends to drink out the evening. He walked home, thoughts of Sophie Regan, tormenting him. He wondered, rather disturbingly whether he was starting to slow down a little – ‘maturing’ his Mum called it, and he supposed, at 32, it was probably time, although he wasn’t particularly happy about it. He just couldn’t get Sophie out of his mind lately. She intrigued him. Her decision to stay single and what she’d written about her horrendous dating experiences made him want to know more. She was getting under his skin and since Angela Johnson had told him that she’d once dated Ben Scott, it made him even more interested to know the real Sophie Regan and what made her tick.
“Fuckit, I haven’t even started to write up this weeks Ade Gets Laid. Looks like I’m going to have to make it all up. Again!”
I spent all weekend trying desperately hard not to reply to Ben’s sexy text message. He was great at sex texts and it was so tempting to send one back. But I knew it would have been a VBM (very bad move). And I’ve already made too many of them in my romantic life. We’d had a strange relationship, Ben and I. We were fabulous in bed. Actually we were rather ace at all types of non verbal communication – including text messaging. Our relationship had been born on the SMS airwaves and he had charmed me, sweeping me straight off my feet and onto my back in a matter of days. It was a shame that he wasn’t able to back up his text messages with the same enthusiasm over a longer period of time….
I’m sitting on the Tube contemplating what I’ll wear to ‘Wine Not?’. I don’t relish the thoughts of a wine tasting dating night – dating with drinks has always been a disaster for me. I either get roaring drunk and everybody looks fabulous – or I am the sober focus for some guy who is wearing his ultra-thick beer goggles. The fact is, if Delaney is going to insist that I continue reporting on the singleton scene of London, then I need to look good, and I don’t. I was hoping to fade into the background with my secret pact to stay single, but it looks as if I’m going to be dragged, probably kicking and screaming, onto Sky television. Imagine the media slant? Imagine the critics? I can just see it now,
‘Staying Single through choice or chance?
Meet Sophie Regan, the woman who has decided to remain single, but guys,
would YOU date this woman?’
What if they think that I’ve said that because I can’t get a guy! That really would be the nail in the coffin for me. Jennifer and Mum would certainly disown me. It’s made me see that I’ve never really focussed seriously on dating; it’s all been a rather hit-and-miss affair, or hit-and-Mrs when it was the married guys chatting me up. I must rise to this challenge and start focusing on my inner and outer body beautiful. I need to stop over-analysing everything and get to the gym and the beauty salon – If I’m going to be bandied about as ‘the woman who chose to stay single’ then I need to look as if I have a choice!
I can’t remember the last time I said ‘no’ to a date request – even if I didn’t like the guy!
Things have not been good.
And they’re going to improve.