Bladder Boy

Hi and welcome back, thank you for your patience, I am hoping my newest adventures will make up for my absence. Please do enjoy my current escapades:

I recently went to see a band with a crazy friend from Liverpool. We drank, jived and sang along in standard Betty fashion. Following the performance my friend and I ventured out for some ‘fresh air’ and struck up conversation with some members of the band.

Several tequila shots later it seemed we had made some firm musically talented buddy’s. Along with the band was a mate of theirs that I appeared to warm to in my drunken haze. He was a northern musician; we shared the same birthday and seemed normal enough so I happily handed over my number to him when he left fairly early doors (should have seen this as an early sign of a bad match).

My friend and I partied on into the night (at one point my companion removed her top and threw it onto the stage in true rock and roll fashion.) and I completely forgot about the Music Boy.

I woke up to a few text messages from Music Boy and we had a friendly text exchange.

As the days progressed across the week text messages were taken up a notch with me receiving up to 4 in one sitting with no response from me, along with extra frequent phonecalls. Warning signs of an oddball but I thought I would still meet up with him when it was suggested, I had after all not exactly been inundated with date requests in the recent months.

We arranged to meet at a pub in Camden where some live music was taking pace, ideal Betty first date scenario.

Meeting outside the tube I instantly realised Music Boy was definitely not the tall, older and cool musician I had in my head; he was more a slight indie version of Justin Bieber than Charlie Fink. A shame but maybe we would at least get on as friends I convinced myself.

On arrival in the pub Music Boy disappeared straight to the bar and shortly after returned clutching a freshly poured pint; looking eagerly at his other hand I quickly caught on to the fact that I had not been included in this round, interesting approach. He then requested that I hold his drank while he headed off to the toilet to empty his bladder. This was not a good start, I glanced at the door contemplating making a hasty exit but he was back before I could make tracks.

Trying to shake off the bad feeling about the drink scenario I ordered a bucket of wine at the bar and gave conversation a go.

Luckily for me an hour into the evening I bumped into some work colleagues and I was given a slight outlet. One of my work mates kindly offered to buy us all a drink and Music boy leapt straight on the offer, falling over himself to join him at the bar, attractive. (I also received feedback following events that Music boy smoked pretty much an entire packet of my friend’s cigarettes in just two fresh air visits.)

Nearing the end of the disastrous evening my work mate placed his drink down on the side for a moment and on retrieval found Music Boy downing the remainder of the glass. (I have since learnt that the technical term for this act is ‘minesweeping’)

This was all too much, even for Betty dating standards. I quietly crept away from the ridiculous scene to subtly put my coat on and make an emergency solo exit. Before I could even pick up my coat Music Boy appeared out of nowhere asking if I was leaving and that he would come with me after he had been to the toilet.

Feeling bad I waited while he made use of the facilities and we left the pub. 2 seconds down the road Music Boy announced that he needed to go to the toilet again and dashed across the road to a closing pub.

Finally we made it on the tube where a few stops along the northern line Music Boy announced to me he would be leaving at the next stop so that he could go to the toilet, he also added that he always needs to plan his journeys in this careful manner so that he can go to the toilet on route.

A few things:

Please note I was in fact on a date with a healthy 25 year old not a 90 year old man.

He has now been renamed from Music boy to Bladder Boy; I think you can understand the reasoning behind this.

The night ended with me rejecting his offer of a kiss and instead offering him my cheek, which he proceeded to lick.

I will not be returning his persistent calls/texts.

A brilliant end to a great year of successful dating.