OK, so going speed dating means I need to look good. So much for my plans to just be ‘me’? If I’m so intent on staying single, on not worrying about what ‘look’ I’m portraying, if I’m so hot on being happy in my skin, what the hell am I doing here? Laying on a beauty therapists’ couch listening to classical music and breathing in the heady scent of ylang ylang, in a g-string? Am I mutating into my ex, Jonny? I’m sure I’m being waxed from the ears down! So far I’ve been stripped of my armpit fuzz and leg stubble and I’m now sticky and sweaty as the pneumatic-chested therapist is prepping my bikini area. She’s promised me a tidy landing strip – and I’m terrified! Thankfully I’d been forewarned by Jennifer to spend a little time trimming my lady garden, which, she told me, means that it won’t hurt as much when the hairs are ripped out at 100mph on a 10cm strip of calico. I hope this will all be worth it – I’ve booked in for a pedicure and back massage afterwards, in the hope that it’ll relax me between traumas. The first one being deemed as the woman who chose to stay single, the next one being the wax of my entire topiary of pubic hair, and the last (but probably not the least) one being my night at speed dating. I mean, what if you meet a guy and you get on really well for the 3 minutes – could you spend a lifetime simply fitting him in for 3 minute slots? It’d take a lot of pressure out of the relationship problems and would leave loads of lovely free time to have more beauty treatments, see friends and go shopping! I’m almost looking forward to the speed dating event and it’s helping take my mind off of the awful Danny-the-chav-Mullins!
*
Adrian Ford noticed Sophie before Ellie had pointed her out, and he hadn’t been disappointed. She was cute with her long brown hair and nice arse – it was the icing on the cake to find that she was Sophie Regan. She was slightly girl-next-door, but he hadn’t let that put him off before. Tossing chicken strips into a hot wok and twisting the lid from a jar of sweet lemon sauce, he wondered which approach he’d use on her – the fellow journalist route, the I’d-like-to-be-friends, or just the good old reliable I’m-interested-in-your-life one? Either way, he’d soon put paid to her staying single promise. He sang loudly to his Stereophonics CD, changing the words to,
“And she’ll be gagging for meeeeee, by the end of the month!”
*
“So Tam, it’s bloody agony. I’ve had to come straight home, strip off and starfish, naked in bed. Even the cold duvet against my bald pube area hurts.” I lift the duvet and look down the plane of my body, at my bald and pink pubic mound. “It looks like the tip of a Swan Vestas! But hey, at least my toenails look the nuts!”
“Ha ha! It’ll be fine by the morning. I’ve had a Brazilian loads of times.”
“Yeah,” I groan, “but I bet only when you’ve been in a relationship? Nobody would have this done if they were resolutely staying single!”
“No,” she giggled, “probably not!”
“I mean, it’s not like I’m actually going speed dating to meet anyone, so why did I bother?”
“Because you said that your legs were like kiwi skin and you wanted to wear a dress on Saturday! Anyway, it makes you feel good and boosts your confidence. God, Sophie, why shouldn’t you feel good about yourself. If staying single means turning into a yeti then you’re gonna be single for a whole lot longer than a year!”
She makes me laugh sometimes, with her bluntness, “OK, point taken. I’m going to wear my wrap dress and Moschino sandals. That screams, ‘take me seriously, but respect my femininity’ don’t you think?”
“Em, no. Not really, Soph, but whatever you feel comfortable in. Listen, I was talking to one of the A&E nurses today; she went speed dating last week and loved it. Until she realised that she was sat opposite an ex boyfriend.”
“OhMyGod! What did she do?”
“Well she said that she saw him in the room and counted along, realising that it was inevitable that he’d be one of her 3 minute slots. She just gritted her teeth, managing to make a sneaky exit when he was 2 tables away. But she said the night was going great until then. 4 guys asked for her number and she’s got dates set up for the next fortnight.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going for that. You could though, Tam? How serious is it between you and this Pete guy?”
Tamsin sounds strange as she replied, “Serious? Sophie, I’m mad about him. I’d never cheat on Pete. Ever.”
I’m surprised at her reply. I wasn’t suggesting that she cheat on him; simply have a few laughs on our speed dating night out.
“OK, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I know you like him. Maybe I’ll get to meet him properly soon, eh?”
“Yeah. You can. I’ll sort it for sometime soon.”
“Right then, I’m going to sleep now. Pick you up Saturday at 7.30pm, OK?”
“Great. See you then, Soph.”
