Fat Girl Dating- Part 2
This date actually happened a few years ago. I met T on POF. His messages were sometimes written in very broken English so I asked him where he was from; he replied that he was from Hackney and just hated typing messages.
Fair enough I thought.
One evening I was child free. My friend... I'd best not use her real name... lets call her Smelen, arrived at my door, also child free. We were young, free and single so decided to go on a double date!
T had been asking to see me so I messaged him asking if he was free? He was and so was his friend. We agreed to meet at the local leisure park and I asked for his phone number in case there was a problem or we were running late. It should have been my first red flag that he was SO hesitant to let me have it...
So we were all tarted up and on our way to the Leisure park. I'd worn heels and was teetering about, top heavy with a throbbing bunion but I felt good! Until we missed the train because of my very slow teetering. I called him to let him know I was running late- someone answered but there was a load of whispering in the background before anyone spoke. Eventually I spoke to a cockney geezer claiming to be T and he was fine with us running late.
Smelen and I strutted into the classy establishment that is Chiquitos. I looked around. There was only 2 black men in there so I knew it was them. Red flag number 2 - his photos online were not him.... Walking towards them I tripped on my heels and as it was crowded, I knocked into someone-
"Eh! you have to look what you are doing so you don't hit into da pipo!"
Oh for God's sake. So not only was it not him in his pictures, it wasn't him on the phone either. Now, I have no problem with him being African. I barely like anyone regardless of race, culture, religion so it's no biggie to me. What I do have a problem with is being lied to. But we were there so I ignored my gut instinct to bugger off home.
So I'm at the bar. It's boiling in there and for whatever reason, he is wearing a thick tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbow. I could see the sweat running down the side of his big, bald head.
I heard his friend ask Smelen what she wanted to drink. The bartender finally approached me and T, I looked at him and he ordered an orange juice. Just one. Paid for it and started drinking. That's fine, I'm an independent woman so I bought my own vodka. Double. Still waiting at the bar, desperately trying to avoid him touching me and trying to avert my face everytime he talked to escape his hot breath, I may have got myself well and truly drunk.
We eventually got led to a table. Whilst looking through the menu, T made it clear that Smelen and I could order the cheapest thing and share it. I was drunk and hysterical at this point , my tummy was rumbling too so we made short work of our plate of £4.95 nachos.
Enough was enough after our 'snack' and we wanted to go home. T insisted on giving us a lift, I didn't want him to know my address but agreed he could drop us in my town centre.
Even more unsteady on my feet, we wandered across the car park to his car. Him constantly trying to touch my bum with his freakishly large hands didn't help. His car was lovely and expensive. It didn't make sense that he was so cheap when he clearly had a few bob. I went to get in the front but T told me I had to get in the back. There were DVD players in the head rest and there was something he wanted me to watch. A present for me that he had spent weeks finding because the girl in it looked like me.....
He handed me a porno. That was my gift. On the front cover was a fat mixed race girl and the title something along the lines of " Naughty BBW's first Gang bang"
Smelen was dying, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. His friend couldn't look at me. I looked at the tissue box on the parcel shelf of his car, to the DVD in my hand and then at T and his stupid, smiling, disgusting face.
Throwing the DVD on the floor, I flounced off towards the station (very difficult being overweight and drunk in heels) Smelen followed still laughing. I told him 2 words- the second one being "off". No way was I getting in his bloody car!
When I got home I saw I had a text from T, my last before I blocked him. It read
My beautiful wooman (spelt like that) why you break my heart. I wanted you for marriage
Yeah, marriage and a gang bang! and I'm not up for either.
Fair enough I thought.
One evening I was child free. My friend... I'd best not use her real name... lets call her Smelen, arrived at my door, also child free. We were young, free and single so decided to go on a double date!
T had been asking to see me so I messaged him asking if he was free? He was and so was his friend. We agreed to meet at the local leisure park and I asked for his phone number in case there was a problem or we were running late. It should have been my first red flag that he was SO hesitant to let me have it...
So we were all tarted up and on our way to the Leisure park. I'd worn heels and was teetering about, top heavy with a throbbing bunion but I felt good! Until we missed the train because of my very slow teetering. I called him to let him know I was running late- someone answered but there was a load of whispering in the background before anyone spoke. Eventually I spoke to a cockney geezer claiming to be T and he was fine with us running late.
Smelen and I strutted into the classy establishment that is Chiquitos. I looked around. There was only 2 black men in there so I knew it was them. Red flag number 2 - his photos online were not him.... Walking towards them I tripped on my heels and as it was crowded, I knocked into someone-
"Eh! you have to look what you are doing so you don't hit into da pipo!"
Oh for God's sake. So not only was it not him in his pictures, it wasn't him on the phone either. Now, I have no problem with him being African. I barely like anyone regardless of race, culture, religion so it's no biggie to me. What I do have a problem with is being lied to. But we were there so I ignored my gut instinct to bugger off home.
So I'm at the bar. It's boiling in there and for whatever reason, he is wearing a thick tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbow. I could see the sweat running down the side of his big, bald head.
I heard his friend ask Smelen what she wanted to drink. The bartender finally approached me and T, I looked at him and he ordered an orange juice. Just one. Paid for it and started drinking. That's fine, I'm an independent woman so I bought my own vodka. Double. Still waiting at the bar, desperately trying to avoid him touching me and trying to avert my face everytime he talked to escape his hot breath, I may have got myself well and truly drunk.
We eventually got led to a table. Whilst looking through the menu, T made it clear that Smelen and I could order the cheapest thing and share it. I was drunk and hysterical at this point , my tummy was rumbling too so we made short work of our plate of £4.95 nachos.
Enough was enough after our 'snack' and we wanted to go home. T insisted on giving us a lift, I didn't want him to know my address but agreed he could drop us in my town centre.
Even more unsteady on my feet, we wandered across the car park to his car. Him constantly trying to touch my bum with his freakishly large hands didn't help. His car was lovely and expensive. It didn't make sense that he was so cheap when he clearly had a few bob. I went to get in the front but T told me I had to get in the back. There were DVD players in the head rest and there was something he wanted me to watch. A present for me that he had spent weeks finding because the girl in it looked like me.....
He handed me a porno. That was my gift. On the front cover was a fat mixed race girl and the title something along the lines of " Naughty BBW's first Gang bang"
Smelen was dying, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. His friend couldn't look at me. I looked at the tissue box on the parcel shelf of his car, to the DVD in my hand and then at T and his stupid, smiling, disgusting face.
Throwing the DVD on the floor, I flounced off towards the station (very difficult being overweight and drunk in heels) Smelen followed still laughing. I told him 2 words- the second one being "off". No way was I getting in his bloody car!
When I got home I saw I had a text from T, my last before I blocked him. It read
My beautiful wooman (spelt like that) why you break my heart. I wanted you for marriage
Yeah, marriage and a gang bang! and I'm not up for either.
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