So London - England. The home of the official gentleman, the home of the well dressed and poorly dressed the perfect equilibrium of rich and poor and above all this dross, London is home to the greatest nightlife and bars on earth.
This little mini adventure takes place in Farringdon, to those that are not familiar with this area, it is what is commonly known as 'the city' to the average Londoner. A square mile from the heart of London, Farringdon is populated by mainly business produced by banks and firms but is also vastly populated by women, bars and whiskey.
Now I am very familiar with all the bars in the area but just under the Holborn Viaduct has opened a deceptively small bar, though as you take a step inside this lavish and vintage styled masterpiece you notice that the deceiving outside look is further from the reality than first thought, the space is fantastic...inside this 200 year old foundation temple there is the upstairs section and then downstairs is this underground club type room which is dark and poison all in one.
I fell in love straight away, the array of seating and alcohol available is great, I counted more than 12 whiskeys and more than 5 gins and the cocktail mixology was sublime as well as the small morsels of mouth watering finger styled food available.
It was 9pm, I came to check it out as everybody from the office kept yapping on about how this is their new drinking hole, though this was a Thursday evening and everybody was at home with their families, City Thursdays are actually very busy in London and this was no exception. I usually get a Negroni to start, a bitter sweet & dry drink, you can only have 1/2 though otherwise you'll mess your stomach up for later, I generally settle down first so I did exactly that and lounged on the leather sofas available and watched the candles around the bar burn and crowd increase slowly in number, waiting....just waiting for my pray.
After an hour of sipping and occasionally glancing at my phone she walks in, a 5ft8 blonde with a runners figure but with a pair of breasts suitable for a king, legs like a goddess and a face that could make you finish prior to you even starting. She was the 9 and I was the confident lower numerical punching my weight and hitting a clear 5-7 years above me.
Remember age is a mere number in the seduction world, I was wearing a three piece which was a dark green as if I was fresh from a Count Dracula wardrobe rummage! So that adds 4 years, my height adds another 2 and my goatee and Salvador Dali moustache adds another 3 so I already sounded and appeared to be something that I wasn't. I let her prance the room so she could see my tiger eyes eat her alive.
I work on a double glance, one look means hello and the second look means we need to talk. (I perceive that as an IOI and anybody can perceive them as they deem fit) I take my 3rd drink which was a fresh cucumber fragranced G&T and head nearby absolutely fixated on this women, making sure she knows I'm coming, she sees me approach across the room and you and I both know her heart is pounding!!
Her friends try and grab her attention, it fails and I stop in my tracks and turn to face the bar directly next to her, I break eye contact and just let her absorb my presence, my cologne still holding strong and the musky smell of a cigar that I had previously smoked scorned onto my blazer, neck the 3rd glass and hop onto my 4th allowing the words to flow smoothly, my bulging onyx stone ring glaring in her face as I hold the bar surface....as such, I commence my ring clench routine (see my other post from a while ago) though this is in reverse.
I'm not one to bother with formalities I go straight to work, a few simple compliments will test her invisible anti-guy shield, she responds well and doesn't reject too much, i find it's always good to fire too many and withdraw than too few and pursue and annoy, it's logic in my eyes. Her friends are baffled because she's left them and she's invoked in the conversation and she loved my dry sense of humour and stubbornness as she was similar. Her only fault was red lipstick, it's my worst enemy and it even puts me off the kissing situation, as she was 9 years older than me I could tell she was going to be a prude, she guessed my age incorrectly 5+ times but deep down she knew.
I do a word association game which is great for a laugh and is much like a tree as it branches more conversations and when a strange answer is given which it ALWAYS does, for eg What is the first thing that comes to your head when these words appear 1. Raindrop - pavement 2. Violin - Cow 3. Drink - Necessary : you see how weird this can get, her answers were some what questionable, I gave her the benefit of the doubt and just suggested stress was the cause to her hilarious but spellbinding answers.
We spoke about family and homes, I do like to boast about my apartment especially my music collection as it's pretty impressive, Don't think for a second you can get away with talking like a smooth criminal with every girl you encounter it's bullocks and will never get the close you're looking for. We sat down but In a new area, it was In a large open booth suitable for 12-14 people but it was ours, her heels strutting on the floor got my heart going and the red underline of them suggested Louboutin.
She had money and more than me, her tones changed when we reached the occupation part of the convo particularly when I revealed mine, I pulled in closer to break her comfort zone and placed my hand at the left of her dangling blonde locks only for a brief moment, and whispered out another a compliment, she was poised to fall for it and she did, she grabbed my face and face planted her mouth into mine. As I mentioned before I hate lippy so I wasn't happy, I was livid and took her phone as it was on the table beside us, as punishment I set her alarm more than 10 times suggesting to call me each time it went off and took her number in the process and saved myself as question mark.
You may be surprised but we had not even even exchanged names, I escaped to the toilet to wash off that red waste off my face, and snuck up stairs to the exit, got a shot of tequila and retired. It was 12am and I grabbed the last train back to NorthWest.
ALWAYS follow the three day rule, woman can wait and think about you for 3 days and then you strike and meet for the mid work lunch the following day, so 4 days... 3 days later than that on the Thursday it was wine and 5 after that on the Tuesday is your bat out period where you combine a day trip, drinks and dinner in one obviously in London I had days off work and she had booked a week off so it was perfect, older woman are more fragile and as I mentioned before they're more preserved. I won on the Tuesday and again on the Wednesday.
This ordeal was great but was sourly ended when she informed that she had a boyfriend - clearly an awful one if she's willing to cheat that easily, she made my decision easy, the scissors came out and our ties were cut and off I went.
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