A Night in the Pool (Part Deux)

The last (and also first time) I went to Liverpool (in October 2015) I was in the middle of my 30 day (turned 60 day) Challenge and I completed the task of complimenting a stranger in order to fulfill my obligation to myself to approach more men.

This time around I was under no such contract and therefore could enjoy the night as I saw fit.

We were there for my birthday weekend and if you’ve never visited the delight that is the city of Liverpool, I’m not sure I can adequately describe the amazing vibe it has when you’re on a night out there.

But I’ll try…

The streets are filled with people, which in London can feel overwhelming, however in Liverpool it just feels as if there’s more opportunity. The people (for the most part) are so friendly and approachable. Both times I’ve visited I’ve always felt so welcomed and I know that no matter what happens I am guaranteed to have fun.

That being said we did have a bit of a negative experience with some Mean Girls sitting at a table across from us, one of whom kept casting looks our way and whispering to her friends. But other than that little blip it was a stellar night.

It was Halloween weekend and we were dressed to kill (forgive the pun). We got into the groove in Alma De Cuba and while we were having fun I decided I wanted a change of scenery. After wandering up the notorious Seel Street, I found my way to Red Door, which had been recommended to me by a new friend.

Once we gained entry, I mentally noted that it appeared there was a better ratio of good looking men in this place than the last and it didn’t take very long for my eyes to alight on a very attractive man.

Now it’s important to note that my usual behaviour around attractive guys does not entirely fit in with my otherwise extroverted personality. I still can’t really pinpoint the cause other than I have an overwhelming abject fear of rejection and in this one aspect of my life I have the dual negative tendencies of worryingly thinking too much and of self doubt. Which does not add up to me being a carefree sassy diva when it comes to letting gorgeous strangers know I find them attractive.

My MO when seeing a hot guy is usually to spot him, automatically assume he won’t find me attractive, argue with myself about approaching him before either ultimately bottling it, or losing the chance anyway as he will inevitably have moved out of my line of vision.

The reason I’ve explained all of this is because on this particular night, for some inexplicable reason my inner audacious goddess was out to play. Upon sighting my prey, I’m not entirely sure how or when it happened but I managed to manoeuvre my self into a conversation with him. I don’t really remember what we talked about, but I do remember that after our brief chat I was consumed with the desire to initiate another interaction with him.

At a later point in the night a friend of his was being quite flirty with me and I recall that I responded in a way that was also very out of character for me. I stated with assured confidence and certainty “I’m really sorry but I fancy your friend.”

I’m not sure where I found the balls to speak my mind so boldly but it’s a testament to him and also further evidence of the friendliness of the Scouse natives that rather than being highly offended (which I can honestly say he would have been well within his right to be) he proclaimed that he was going to set me up with his friend and placed my hand into my preys, as if it was our wedding day and he was responsible for giving me away.

We then entered into another brief but invigorating conversation, however all too soon he extricated himself from me yet again declaring that he was going to the bar, although he did offer to buy me a drink, but I declined.

And do you know what happened next, dear friends?


After a while it was obvious that he wasn’t coming back to the dance floor and I can humbly admit I felt disappointment and dismay.

Some time after this, myself and LA went outside for some fresh air, as I walked past a group of guys huddled together, I felt a distinct pinch and when I turned around I was again faced with my prey who smiled and said “I thought that was you!”

Pleased with my evident allure, my inner audacious goddess preened, as I couldn’t help but note to myself, if he didn’t want to speak to me he wouldn’t have let me know he was behind me.

LA and I went to find seats as our feet were hurting from the ridiculously high heels we were wearing and we’d done quite a bit of walking earlier in the day. But when LA decided that she wanted another drink, although I didn’t really want one myself I must admit I accompanied her to the bar with the intention of trying to spot my prey. It felt as if we were in a game of cat and mouse and I’m sure you can guess which I was.

Alas, when we entered the main bit of the establishment, he was standing at the corner of the bar as if he’d been waiting for us all along (I’m sure this was a sign that it was meant to be). For the second time that night though I felt vindicated that my hunt wasn’t one sided as he offered to buy not only me, but LA a drink as well.

After thanking him for our drinks we made our way to another table as my feet were really sore at this point. I know you may be thinking why wear ridiculous heels if they hurt your feet so much? But alas that is the plight of the smaller than average female to bear. I complain about heels but I am only five feet tall and without them I don’t feel like a real adult on a night out.

But I digress, a short time later I noticed that the security men were carrying someone out of Red Door and I watched in dismay as my prey followed closely behind (the guy being forcibly removed was clearly a friend of his).

Now remember everything I’ve told you about my usual behaviour when it comes to guys I find attractive, I categorically do not approach them no matter how much I want to, but on this occasion I made an unprecedented split decision.

I announced, rather grandly, to my friends “I’m going to get his number” and without hesitation I jumped down from my stool and marched outside proffering my phone at my prey and calmly asking “can I have your number?” to which he acquiesced.

I really don’t know what got into me that night, I don’t know if it was the fact I was away from home, or the fact I was in one of the friendliest cities in the UK. Or more likely, it could have been the copious amounts of celebratory alcohol I’d imbibed that day.

Although I must state that even in the past when I’ve had quite a bit to drink I still find the notion of approaching a really attractive man one of the most nerve-wracking things to do. It strikes such fear in my heart that I can’t say I’ve ever done it before.

Whatever the reason, I was so impressed with my actions of actually hitting on a man I added it to my 30 before 30 list as it’s definitely something I’d always wanted to do and never done. I just wish that my inner audacious goddess would come out to play a bit more in the future.

So, Dear Friends, I cannot state with certainty that hitting on that good-looking person will always get you the desired response…but, it is better to try and fail than to never try at all right?

Or something like that anyway…

Until next time!!

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