Wow, date number 6. How on earth did we get here? I’m supposed to have met my true love by now, right? I mean, EVERYONE is on the internet. Surely I must of met her by now.

NO.

And it didn’t happen with date 6 either. Although Blockbuster is the first on this list to hold…something over me. Perhaps we’ll be able to discern this together.

The introductory process – all very dull. As usual. It’s very rarely interesting until the meeting happens, except in certain circumstances, and Blockbuster was no different. We actually became friends on a well known social networking website before meeting, which shocks me now because I outright refuse to do that before meeting someone and sometimes even way after that. Just in case, you know, it gets weird PUBLICALLY. I don’t like public weirding.

We’d talked enough pre-date to ensure that we were going to get along, so the first date was actually kind of marvellous. We met at what was arguably my favourite pub, and we drank, and smoked and drank and smoked and generally had a lovely time. Blockbuster was an artist, and acted and drank and smoked and spoke as such. There is no stereotype for such things (there totally is), but you can imagine where I’m going. Long dark hair, almost in dredds but not quite, a droopy bag made from very light cotton, piercings, extremely well spoken, a suspicion of poor personal hygiene – the lot. But she was cool. It was a Saturday night – we got battered. Clearly. You know me sufficiently by now.

There are two key things I recall from our first date:

1: Whilst in the pub, Blockbuster went to the toilet and left me sat at the table on my own. I noticed two girls sat on the table next to us. I still couldnt tell you why but I turned to those girls and told them that me and Blockbuster were on our first date and that I really liked her. As I sort of expected, because they looked like good people, they were absolutely thrilled. I just wanted the attention.

2: Fucking hell, we had a good go at the drink. We left the pub and headed back to mine, not before going to an off license to attain more booze. She already had some on her – Buckfast. The drink that’s responsible for killing more people in Glasgow than Heroin and deep fried Mars Bars put together*.

* Totally made that up. I think. I’ll Google it.

Other than snogging on a busy street like a couple of tramps I could’nt tell you too much about the rest of the night.

"So, er...this has been...fun."

“So, er…this has been…fun.”

 

It’s a general pattern that would continue with Blockbuster. Drink to excess, sex, get awkward, repeat. I can’t actually recall anything we did with one another that wasn’t drink or sex related. So given that’s the case…this may get a little graphic.

Essentially, Blockbuster has this nickname because of a game we would play, created by her, called Blockbuster Blowjobs. She would get on her knees, remove me from my boxers and begin. “Okay….name a country beginning with A…”, then once the question was finished, she would commence using her mouth on me, await my answer, then continue with different questions alphabetically, all the way up to Z. Some of them, given the circumstances, were quite difficult. Most of the time we’d get through the alphabet twice, with different questions each time, yet…and I’m not completely sure how she did this…I would always finish on Z. Always. I have no experience in sucking penises, so perhaps it’s easier than I think. I just don’t know.

"I'll have a D please, Bob." "Damn right you will."

“I’ll have a D please, Bob.”
“Damn right you will.”

 

Before this deteriorates into the musings of some stereotypical male pig, I really liked BB. And she liked me. Which is why we shared these experiences. She was confident and free and smart and funny. We were capable of having a lot of fun with one another both sexually and otherwise. It saddens me to think that this period of our dealings with one another leaves me remembering almost exclusively blowjobs and the negativty that would arise at the end. There was another occassion, on a Sunday evening after a weekend of drinking. I’d pretty much spent all of my money and we decided to get a pizza delivered. Whilst I sat at my computer, looking at the menu, BB came over and got on her knees and began to suck me. No request. During this, I was asking her what pizza she wanted….what base…what crust….any sides? I came to the realisation at one stage that I was getting a blowjob from a girl whilst using HER card to order a pizza for us.

 

"......."

“…….”

 

As things progressed, and we progressed, something changed. I’m not sure what. We had a few arguments which really didn’t pan out well, and she was also going to move to London which made things feel slightly redundant. She eventually left, and I left too, so that was that.

Until like, 8 months later or so….more on that shortly. But first…