If you read back just a few posts I had completely given up on Mr Gingerbread Man assuming that if he was at all interested he would have made the effort to set up a date. However I clearly changed my mind on Friday night.
Having enjoyed a free mojito on a rooftop off Times Square we hit Tippler, a fantastic new bar under the gorgeous Chelsea Market.
After a few too many drinks of the cocktail, wine and bubbles variety I thought it would be a genius idea to message him at 12 to ask what he was up to that evening...I was obviously booty calling. . To my shock he was free and I braved the pouring rain to join him in Soho...model boy is back on!
I might be old fashioned in my opinions but a booty call is just that, it generally happens after a night out and mostly requires no commitment and only pleasantries the next morning. A date is conversation, it's fun and you actually care about what this guy thinks of you at the end of the evening...the two should not be mixed!
This booty call turned into a drink in a bar in the Meat Packing district, nothing flashy just a great low key space. And most surprisingly he was incredibly good company. I was having so much fun talking away that I was actually caught off-guard when he kissed me...although that lasted seconds as we engaged in a serious dosage of PDA. We made it back to his place in Williamsburg around 5am, continuing the serious making out before falling asleep, all items of clothing remaining strictly intact (disappointingly). It was the perfect date...and a incredibly unsuccessful booty call!
XOXO
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