Sluttiness thy name is Fen

Vi once blogged about how she and I wish that we could be sluttier. Well, I can't speak for Vi (and she does now have an Actual Boyfriend) but I have just had a very slutty weekend.

Saturday night I went to a Spanish themed fancy dress party (little tip: stick a flower in your hair and you're Spanish). I got talking to a guy who seemed relatively nice and mature. Then the lethal punch I was drinking kicked in (red wine, white wine, gin, paint thinner, arsenic and some fruit juice) and I may have indulged in a little bit of PDA. My friend was driving me home and this guy somehow convinced me that it would be a really good idea if he came with me. I blame the punch. Thankfully, although I brought him home with me, a few of my morals kicked in so it wasn't a complete, total mistake. The next morning he left, without asking for my number. Which wasn't really a bad thing as his maturity level dropped quite considerably once we were back at mine. After he left, those darn morals kicked in again and I didn't feel great about myself. Still, it's nothing that an 8 mile run, shower and the thought that he had a heck of a journey home because the underground line closest to me wasn't working couldn't fix.

Then, Sunday evening I had plans to meet up with a guy from work who had recently moved to my area of London. We know each other more through the work softball team then actually working together - just to clarify. I had said a few weeks earlier when he mentioned that he was moving near me that I would take him for a few drinks in the non-dodgy pubs I frequent(I live in kind of a dodgy area). I didn't actually think that he would take me up on it, I was just really offering to be nice. However, lo and behold he emailed me and asked when we were having our non-dodgy pub tour. Fast forward to last night and me and the White Horse* met up and only made it to one pub...for 5 hours. I have never talked to a guy for that amount of time before, and I really like talking.

I had wondered if anything was going to happen between us, because when you first get to know a guy there's always seems to be the thought that something might happen until there is clarification either way. Towards the end of the evening I got the distinct impression that something was going to happen. To summarise: I left his at 2 this afternoon, my morals went out the window and I was reminded about how good pistachio ice cream can be. Oh, and I got to do the walk of shame. Good times.

Now, if you are all keeping up with my love life - and if you're not, why not? You are probably coming to the realisation that this is the second guy from work I have got involved with. Probably not the wisest decision I've ever made. I am totally going to behave myself from now on. Seriously.

And that was my slutty weekend.

So Grayer, look out. You may have competition for being the biggest slut of the blog. And if I don't manage to take that award, I am definitely the biggest slut of my office. We all have to be something in life.

* I need to clarify that he doesn't have the name the White Horse because he is my knight in shining armour but because we went to a pub called the White Horse, and he just so happens to have the same name as Vi's Dark Horse. Vi and I really are that in sync.