Monday, May 28, 2007

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!

4 comments:

Sienna said...

Great post. Shame about neither of you bedding the waiter, however a good time was obviously had by all. Wow wonderful to have a friend to go out with that isn't trying to have his way with you.
Keep blogging, you are very entertaining with your stories!!

phishez said...

I'm such a fag hag. I even go on 'dates' with him. And when I say dates I mean coffee, dinner, dancing, movies and shopping. They're so much fun and I love having my own personal stylist at no extra charge!

Cath said...

Actually Livy.. I wouldn't mind a date wanting have their way with me at the moment...

And Phish - clearly I got the short end of the fag hag stick.. all my gay boys may be stylish and lovely - but have no opinion on women's clothes - only men.... Sigh!

coffeesnob said...

just a wild guess about venue: melbourne supper club?