Supplies!

You remember the scene in Kingpin where Woody Harrelson has to pay his rent by fucking his landlady? How the next morning he was crouched over the toilet, gripping the edge of the bowl and retching in horror at the memory of the night before? My one and only blind date was like that.

I blame the bloody internet. Jules and I had got chatting via love@lycos and things had progressed quite rapidly to phone calls and enjoyable phone sex sessions that she used to participate in while in the bath (it was true, I could hear the splashes. Incidentally, the best phone sex I ever had was with a scottish girl called Kirsty who told me "I wanna peel your foreskin back and stick my tongue down your Jap's eye", still one of the two sexiest things I have ever heard... anyway, let's get on with the original anecdote...). Jules was a nurse, which had my imagination running. I'd tried to ask her about her body, without being too specific. She told me she had strong legs as she needed to heft patients in and out of beds, and she had good lower body strength. Put that way, it still sounded good. We were getting on like a house on fire, liked similar movies (Fight Club) was one in particular that we both talked about liking. Anyway, one time she invited me down to Reading to meet up. I agreed readily, and made the three hour train journey there. She told me I'd recognise her because she was wearing a monkey-shaped ruck sack...

So, I get off the train and see her. I actually walked past her once, refusing to believe that the girl with the rucksack could really be her. It was when I walked back to see her again, that I suddenly realised "oh... this is a blind date". If it hadn't been, it wouldn't have happened. I was angry at God for playing this little number on me. Remember David Brent's reaction to one of his dates in the final episode of the office? "oh for fu-" I thought that several years earlier, on this sultry evening in Reading. My problem was, it was so late in the evening and I was not ready for another 3 hours or so train journey home, so I committed, and we met up.

Overall, it was nice, though it felt said. In her photos she looked like a woman ten years older than she really was. She didn't smile much in those photos. We talked, we got on great. We ate badly, I can hardly remember what. Night came and she was expecting, demanding sex. Demanding the rent. I fingered the fuck out of her. She was incredibly wet... a sodden square metre of mattress. I still wonder whether she had pissed herself, I'm still not sure... it didn't smell like that, but then where else had it all come from? Did I mention I was a virgin at the time, and remained one for several years AFTER this trip to Reading. She asked me to put my dick in her. I said no. I'm gonna lose it to the right person. I DID lose it to the right person. Several years later. Anyway, Jules sucked my dick. It felt good, especially when she was sucking my glans... I didn't realise that sensation of suction could be so nice. I say I didn't come in her mouth, that she mistook pre-cum for a full ejaculation. She claims I came. Fuck, at least it stopped her.

The next morning, looking back on the night before, I couldn't get the image of the pale fat... turkey... out of my mind, I felt truly nauseaous, I was actually dry heaving. Seeing that scene on Kingpin a couple of years later brought it all back to me. We saw Evolution at Reading's nice cinema complex on saturday night, after a day spent walking along the river... Thames? Is it the thames? It was beautiful really, traditional English riverside, a place where regatta would be held on glorious summer afternoons. Possibly a little way upstream from where the Oxford-Cambridge boat race is held. I just wish I'd been there with the person I love now, but I met her several years later. I spent the rest of the weekend trying to avoid sex with her, trying to avoid paying the rent. I pretty much succeeded by tactical tiredness although there was a little more on the sunday morning. I left by train later on the Sunday, promising to call her again. I never did, to my shame, I dumped her by text on the train.

Blind dates... I don't recommend them.