Women's Guide to Dating

The Walk

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****A/N - Drakes name is now Justin. Drake didn't seem to fit, so from now on, it's Justin!****

Women's Guide to dating

Chapter 3

TotallyWorthIt - So, I think it was two blogs ago? Anyway, two blogs ago, you mentioned about the ‘acting desperate thing and never asking for their number, always let them do the crawling’, well, I met a guy two days ago, and he asked me on a date, I accepted. Now, I don’t really know if he’s looking for an easy lay. And, I don’t want to be desperate and ask for his number, but what if the date turns out really good and I can’t ask him for his number because, well, I don’t want to seem pushy? What do I do?

My reply – Two blogs ago, I did mention that :) So, there is a really simple solution to this question. So, you go on a date and everything turns out great. For you. You’re not sure if he wants to see you again, and you’re not sure if he actually is looking for an easy lay, right? Simple, when he sees you off at the door, you tell him you had a great time, yadda yadda, unlock the door to your house/flat/whatever and go inside. You might be thinking, ‘Are you crazy, I happen to want to see this guy again!’ Ahh, my little duckling, if he wants to see you again, he’ll stop you before you get in, or knock on the door and you’ll exchange numbers, and if you’re lucky, arrange another date. And, if you were supposed to be an easy lay, don’t invite him in, he won’t ask for your number, but he’ll try to leave you with something to think about, just so you regret not sleeping with him. I call this ‘The Walk’. – Your fellow woman.

Nurse her back to health

The sizzling sound of frying bacons filled the kitchen as I rummaged through the cupboards for Leila’s favourite mug. Once the coffee beans had finished brewing, I filled her cup up, knowing when she had hangovers; the only thing she drank was black coffee. No sugar. Personally, I hated the stuff.

Setting the plates on the table in the little dining room that connected to the kitchen, I stacked up her plate with eggs, sausages, bacon and some buttered toasts. I bet she was feeling like crap. I hoped she was feeling like crap.

Being the good friend I was, I grabbed a wooden spoon and a pan, sneaking into her dark, window covered room. Taking a lungful of breath, I placed the pan above her head as I shouted, “Wake up, sunshine!” When she didn’t stir, I started to beat the pan with the wooden spoon, while repeating ‘Wake up, sunshine!’ in her ear.

“Rayleigh” She groaned as she clutched her head in her hands. She looked like she was in pain, knowing that, I hit the pan a little harder.

“Breakfast is ready” I said calmly, a little out of breath. My throat was scratchy from the intense workout I’d done to both my lungs and throat.

Once Leila appeared in the ‘dining room’, she looked like hell. “You look like crap” She glared at me as she took her seat, diving for her coffee first. “My head kills” She groaned, “And, why does it have to be so sunny?!” I rolled my eyes, “Remember this feeling when you chug alcohol down your throat” I retorted in reference to her first statement. She rolled her eyes then groaned. Bet that hurt her head. “This is good” I waited for the ‘thank you’, but it never came.

“You’re welcome” I snorted, she looked up at me with her sparkling blue eyes, “I didn’t thank you” She smiled, sweetly. “No you didn’t, because thanking people is for normal people” She snorted out a laugh in an unladylike way.

“You’re such a b*tch” I smiled, “I’m the Sweetest B*tch” She ignored me as she shovelled her food into her mouth. “So, when are you going to start looking for a job?” I heaved a sigh.