Talking about sex on a first date usually isn’t the way I’d go, but it appears that this is the course the conversation is taking. I’d imagine it’s up there with the dating no-no’s such as moaning about an ex, drinking far too much or slipping them a rufi. Now I’m not complaining, because if someone is open enough to have this chat right from the off, then it certainly bodes well for the rest of the evening. Is this one of those times where you’re distraught you only have one condom? Let’s have a couple more of these pitchers and find out.
We’re in Barrio Vista once again in the heart of Santiago‘s bohemian drinking district. It’s all very lovely with wooden decking, candles and patio heaters. The problem is as beautiful as the girl sitting in front of me is, there are about a million others scattered around the various bars in the vicinity. This is certainly not Bolivia, which is ironic considering my companion hails from there. Apparently Paddy and myself didn’t go to the good looking part, which I’m reliably informed is Santa Cruz. Mental note to self.
I like to think I’m usually pretty decent on a date. Much like an interview. I enjoy interviews. This one should pretty much be X-rated. I can’t work out if she’s a nymphomaniac, not met a guy in a long time, or she’s doubled-dropped Viagra. Either way it’s made for one of the most entertaining, relaxed and informal dates I’ve had since I can remember. It sure beats turning up painted bright red with a coat hanger tail, dressed like Beelzebub, only to find a future ex girlfriend wasn’t in fancy dress. Memorable to say the least, although she was impressed by my eyeliner.
Let’s talk about sex?
Talking about sex on a first date usually isn’t the way I’d go, but it appears that this is the course the conversation is taking. I’d imagine it’s up there with the dating no-no’s such as moaning about an ex, drinking far too much or slipping them a rufi. Now I’m not complaining, because if someone is open enough to have this chat right from the off, then it certainly bodes well for the rest of the evening. Is this one of those times where you’re distraught you only have one condom? Let’s have a couple more of these pitchers and find out.
We’re in Barrio Vista once again in the heart of Santiago‘s bohemian drinking district. It’s all very lovely with wooden decking, candles and patio heaters. The problem is as beautiful as the girl sitting in front of me is, there are about a million others scattered around the various bars in the vicinity. This is certainly not Bolivia, which is ironic considering my companion hails from there. Apparently Paddy and myself didn’t go to the good looking part, which I’m reliably informed is Santa Cruz. Mental note to self.
I like to think I’m usually pretty decent on a date. Much like an interview. I enjoy interviews. This one should pretty much be X-rated. I can’t work out if she’s a nymphomaniac, not met a guy in a long time, or she’s doubled-dropped Viagra. Either way it’s made for one of the most entertaining, relaxed and informal dates I’ve had since I can remember. It sure beats turning up painted bright red with a coat hanger tail, dressed like Beelzebub, only to find a future ex girlfriend wasn’t in fancy dress. Memorable to say the least, although she was impressed by my eyeliner.