Man me

When I meet male versions of myself it’s always so fun.

I’ve known this guy for a while, and he’s just this really good looking guy that all my friends fancy, but I always had him down for a top bed wetter.

He was far too polite and well spoken for me, and he came from money, which you could tell within the first four seconds of meeting him. But to be fair to the prick, he had the face of a freakin angel.

Our first encounter went something like this:

Posh boy proffers his hand out to shake it with the most enthusiastic smile and a “Hello LostItGirl, so great to meet you!”

LIG rolls eyes and replies with “I’ve given out more wanks than handshakes mate…”

I don’t recall saying that at all, he reminded me of it. But it does sound like something I’d do, so it must be true.

Obviously he then proceeded to fall in love with me. He was constantly up in my fckin face, grinning away, being all polite, asking if I wanted room temperature water and shit like that.

And me being me, well me – I just swiftly forgot about him and cracked on with my total chicness.

He would send messages to me on socials that I’d answer in full semi-skimmed mode or simply just ignore. I bumped into him at various gigs, then very quickly forgot about it.

But more power to the guy, because his persistence paid off. Persistence and the fact that my bisexual freak of a friend had pissed me off, so I finally agreed to meet him after a year of his hard graft. I didn’t view it to be anything of a romantic nature. He was just too damn polite. Yes sure, he was hot. But LIG needs some excitement and danger.

The big meet

He called me like three times on the day of the meeting to make certain that we were still having the meeting.

He thought I wasn’t actually going to see him. But I was, because I was bored, so he should have just relaxed. But it turned out his over-zealousness was a little bit of him thinking I would swerve him and a lot of the fact he was totally smashed.

In the day….at work.

He works in music, where it is actually encouraged to do all manner of cliche music business-type things from the 90’s, but in 2016.

I told him to meet me at the clock tower at Waterloo and that my train would be pulling in at 7pm. I could tell I’d need some beers for this because he sounded so wavy on the phone, so I cracked on with that on the train.

Naturally he rang at the time of my train arrival to say he was outside smoking. He was not the type of guy to wait under a clock tower presumably. Which meant LIG was super impressed, this got my attention. Like how hot is that…

When I met him it became evident I had him all wrong. He was leaning against a wall smoking, all floppy hair and hot face. Bundled up in layers and skinny jeans.

He’s also one of those dudes that’s constantly on his phone, but he’s not calling them, they are calling him.


They’re asking what he’s doing, or usually begging for gig tickets. He’d answer all these calls on his headphones. It was so damn hot. And his interest was always more on me than the calls.

Warning signs had begun. But guess what? As if he knew somehow of my trepidation, out he pulled a Xanax and handed it to me.

The perfect cure to all anxiety. The perfect way to a LIG heart.

In a Xanax haze, and with a few vodkas in the bank, we went off to find a bar. It became apparent he was nowhere near the same level of composure as me. He was wrecked. It was so hot, he pulled it off perfectly.

In the bar he began spilling his pint down his face, which wasn’t chic obviously, and it was clear he was not fit for public consumption. But there was no way I was taking him back to mine, I never take guys back to mine, you can’t get rid of them…


So he said we should go to his friend’s penthouse.

This just happened to be in the Renaissance Hotel, which has the famous Spice Girl steps. Here in his weekend abode surroundings, he was comfortable so less of a hot mess.

His face was so so pretty but obviously it was me that brought everything to the table in terms of conversation and wit. Due to the fact he was so smashed.

It sure made me feel good about myself though. Turns out I’m actually pretty normal compared to most. I thought I was a shit show. But I’m beginning to wonder if I’m even a show at all (you are, dw ed)

I Snapchatted all the events of the night, and the chic surroundings. There were crystals in the carpet, paintings were lifted up to reveal TVs, chandeliers cost five grand just to clean. This is my kind of place. Humble? Nah…

We made out a bit after I insisted he brushed his teeth. Even if I’d wanted to take things to third or sixth base he wouldn’t have been capable. Poor dear.

But I wasn’t stupid enough to do that with this guy. He would’ve wiped his dick on the curtain and left for sure. Even though he professes to have been in love with me for a year, he just gave off the vibe that he wouldn’t stick around once he had achieved his goal.

The owners of this penthouse returned home and were super nice. You know when you expect the obscenely rich to be assholes, but then they go ahead and shock you by being decent? They were that.

I don’t recall how bed time was decided upon because I was in a beautiful Xanax haze and he was on another planet altogether. But we went to bed and as soon as I climbed in to the chic four poster, I was fast asleep. I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in quite some time.

In the morning he was so nice, he even got me water. He complimented me, walked me to the station, offered to pay for my travel, carried my bag, opened doors, and once we said goodbye he texted an hour later to fully ensure I would walk around for the rest of the day like this ???

This is a small issue. This dude has been brought up very well having come from money. He has manners on tap and is legitimately kind, but he’s mixed with that with being a full on badass.

He’s outside smoking instead of waiting under a clock for me, he loves prescription meds and partying. He would go missing for days but when he said sorry he would mean it.

Do you see the problem here for LostItGirl?

The balance between badass and nice guy seems to be perfect.

Don’t worry there’ll be a catch. And also don’t worry, I’ll find it in the coming weeks…

And also don’t worry, because I’ll blog about it.