Monday, 29 October 2012

CILLA BLACK ATTACK


Tonight Ladies and Gentlemen, I am going on my first EVER blind date. All previous dates have involved all of the five senses in varying degrees of intensity, smell being one of them... (but the less said about stinky Joe the better). Yet I am going into this one blind. With not a Cilla in sight.  
My friend Yorkshire Ben -the Paddy McGuinness of this story- text me a week ago saying, ‘Alright Laur, are you single? How would you like to go on a date with a charming, handsome friend of mine?’ It probably took less than 2 seconds for me to reply with a ‘Yes! Why not?!’
The speed of my reply was not an act of desperation, for I am a happily single independent young woman. THROW YOUR HANDS UP BLACK MEN! (A Beyonce quote… Obviously not just me requesting the entire Black male population of London to raise their upper limbs in aid of my single status and independent nature… Although, if they wish to, I won’t stop them.)
The speed of my reply was simply because in a city like London, in opposition to the fact that it has a population of 8,174,100 and is still growing (thank you Wikipedia) it is actually pretty hard to meet new people.

I’m not ready or willing to delve into the unexplored world of internet dating just yet, that’s a treat I'm saving for my thirties; therefore, this seemed the perfect opportunity to meet someone new and have a chinwag and a giggle. Worst comes to the worst, we hate each other and you guys get to read aaaaall about it the next day!

Now, onto the next problem… Me. I am not exactly the most alluring or subtlest person on the planet... In fact, the words ‘inappropriate’ and ‘pottymouth’ are never too far away from my name/aura/general vicinity. All in all, I am possibly the least enigmatic human being known to man.
What you see is what you get. But not in a straight talking Tulisa kind of way, more in a flatulent/TMI/crap joke kind of way. 
But that’s alright isn’t it? ISN’T IT?!?!?!?
When I asked a dear friend of mine how I should create a little mystery for myself on this date she said, ‘The only hope for you Laur, is if you wear a veil. That’s the only way you’ll ever be mysterious.’

Right. So it looks like I’ll be wearing a Burkini tonight then! London, you are welcome.
And on that note… WISH ME LUCK!

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