Mr Sugar Allergy: A Sour Start...

Music: Alcohol - CSS

A few weeks after my minor dalliance with Mr Sexy 20yr Old I went out into town again, this time on a Friday night after work. I met up with my friend Beth, her boyfriend Rob and my other best friend Louise for a few post work drinks and a bit of a catch up. Rob was meeting up with a few of his mates and he left us pretty early on, so we headed to one of our favourite bars to get a table before the evening rush started.

Prohibition is one of those bars that is always dark inside due to the thick red and black curtains and wall hangings that flank the ceiling to floor windows. The tables and chairs are made of dark mahogany, and the bar is partitioned with plenty of tables and big red leather sofas for you to sink into in hidden corners. It always gets busy after about 9pm for a number of reasons: It’s filled with some of the more beautiful people that go out in town but manages not to be overly pretentious, and whilst drinks are quite expensive there’s always a really chilled out atmosphere and sometimes you get a bit of live music.  Failing that they play a mixture of indie and classic dance music from yesteryear, you know, just to remind you that you're slightly older than you'd like to admit.

Having secured our table, Beth, Louise and I started to chat the night away with table service handily removing the necessity to queue at the bar.  As the sky darkened outside, we sat back and started to unwind over a few glasses of wine. Wine soon degenerated into vodka and after a couple of hours Louise had convinced us that pitchers of cocktails were an excellent idea.

Fatal.

By now my man-radar was working overtime, and I was getting into the swing of quickly scanning a room for any half decent specimens and giving them the once over, which generally went something like this:

Face: Good looking.

Body: Average. Nice jumper.

Hair: Good. Not ginger.

Height: Tall – excellent.

Mates: Don’t look like cocks.

Girlfriend: Can’t see one.

At about half ten the bar was pretty full, and we were getting ready to make a move and head on somewhere else.  Just as we were about to leave, Beth got talking to a bloke who was standing quite near to our table. He was pretty foxy, quite the Mr Fit, but he was one of those men that knew it. He was out with a group of three or four friends who were now all looking over at Louise and I.

Here we go...

Beth beckoned me to go over and join her conversation with Mr Fit, and I thought well why not? After all my confidence was being fuelled by vodka and several mojitos and he looked like he'd been put together rather nicely. The fact that I was now sitting on my own as Louise had wandered off to go and chat with one of her work mates sealed the deal. I stood up, tottered on my heels ever so slightly and wandered over to introduce myself to Mr Fit, with Beth winking at me conspiratorially all the while.

What a disappointment. He was a total knob.  Our brief conversation went something like this:

Me: "Hi, I'm Kate. Are you having a good night?"

Mr. Fit. "Nah. It's shit in here."

OK. Lovely to meet you too.

Beth: "He was just telling me about his job. He works as a..."

Mr Fit (butting in): "I'm an entrepreneur. I buy stuff. I sell it for a massive profit. Last year I turned over £3 mill. Bit of a bad year. You know how it is."

Me: "No I don't."

And quite honestly, I couldn't care less.

Mr Fit: "Yeah well I still bought a new Ferrari."

Woo.

Me. "Great".

I stifle a yawn.

Me: "Anyway, got to go.... to the bar. Beth?"

I grabbed Beth by the hand and despite the table service still being in full flow I dragged her to the bar.

Talk about someone bigging themself up. Mr Fit might be good looking, and possibly quite rich (if he wasn't spouting a load of bullsh*t) but he was so full of himself it was unbelieveable.

Moron.

As Beth and I stood at the bar I glanced back towards our table where I noticed that one of Mr Fit's friends was giving me the eye.  Maybe it was worth staying a little longer...