When a dinner is not a date....
By way of the world of the internet, I wish Rob the most wonderful of birthdays ever! He passed "a significant number" over the weekend and he and I celebrated this event in style.
On Friday night, we both frocked up, and met at a divine restaurant in the city. I arrived before my dinner companion, and decided that the occasion called for some Pol Roger IMMEDIATELY. Upon looking around the establishment, I think I have found where Melbourne hides its hot men... but I digress. The waiter, indeed himself a vision of hotness, was quick to ask about the table for two and my "date". Now I love Rob to bits. But no self-respecting hag, out for dinner with her fag, is going to let some gorgeous man think that is a date when I am clearly THE MOST SINGLE WOMAN IN THE UNIVERSE! I quickly corrected him with "oh, it is dinner - NOT a date!".
When Rob arrived, I related to him the story, and he concurred that never let a hot man be confused about your availability. And what a pair we must have looked. He was very suave, with new shoe and suit - looking dapper and ever the stylish young gay man about town. Me - looking striking in an ensemble of black (quelle surprise!), with fire-engine red lips and bust aplenty - and a few years on my young charge. Surely any intelligent person could spot gay man and fag hag at 20 paces?
We supped on a fine dinner and wonderful wine, and both attempted to flirt with the waiter - who, sadly, did not go home with either of us. 'Twas a wonderful evening - bravo young Rob!
Prior to the dinner engagement, I had remarked to Rob that any dates that I have had of late all seem to occur over coffee, or brunch. Either way, they occur during daylight hours. I must stress that this is not my most flattering time. For those who don't know me, and have a vivid imagination: I am raven-haired (with a streak of red for "interest"), enviable lips (think Angelina without the Botox look), pale complexion, and a penchant for heels. Meeting over a coffee during full daylight hours, I fear does not do me justice. My dinner with Rob enabled me to actually frock up to my full potential. But I beg of the men that may want to date me at any stage in the next millenia - give a girl a break and take me for dinner/drinks - anything that allows me to at least look my best - before you see the morning after disaster!