Sick Boy!

37 years old; 6ft 2in; never been married; no kids-want kinds; spiritual; MD; occasional smoker; regular drinker

Sick Boy's Profile

Looking for a special attractive lady to love, cherish & adore. Would like to travel to exotic places & have a lot of fun along the way...

I think in this section being totally open & honest is the only way to find the 'perfect' match...I'm 37 & have had a great life so far, have organised events for up to 40, 000 people, travelled to some of the World's most exotic beautiful places, sold millions of albums globally & raised millions of £££'s for some of the UK's leading charities. Due to the nature of my work I started out being very 'me me' if that makes sense - little bit selfish really - this was refelcted in the calibre of my girlfriends - mostly models & looking back on it just 'trophies' that I never really loved deeply anymore then they loved me I guess. 7 years ago I met the lady I thought I thought would be my lifetime soulmate if that doesn't sound too profound - a perfect combination of beauty on the inside & outside. We lived together for many years - yet - unfortunately, found out that that she been having sexual 'relations' with a female work colleague - quite a sexy thought maybe - but the reality was that it was all behind my back & sadly the trust had simply gone. Without trust I guess there's nothing without sounding morbid hey. She moved out around that time & it's fair to say this has been very much a soul-searching year for me. Having gone from one relationship to another for many years I finally got to know me & be at peace with my own company - something which I had never done before. I feel I'm ready to start dating again, do have very high standards & know it's unlikely that I'll meet the cool foxy lady of my dreams on a dating site - but it worked for a really close friend so what's the harm in trying hey. I'm pretty outgoing I guess, some say attractive/sexy - (don't take a good picture though) - but I can't really say that about myself with sounding conceited which I'm certainly not. Would like to take things really easy & just see if we make each other happy...If I'm making sense then would love to hear from you, be happy, peace!

The Date

Sick Boy suggested meeting at a Spanish Tapas restaurant for drinks and dinner. Unusually we didn't exchange a flurry of emails, any texts or even a phone call. His photos were attractive...Sick Boy in a swimming pool abroad, Sick Boy's face highlighted in purple and Sick Boy's landscaped garden and tastefully decorated living room?! As an aside, why do men put images on their profiles of the interior of their homes, offices, art works, motorbikes, cars, chopped photos of them with ex partners or the lingering tiny hand of a child...it always puts me off, but hey, clearly not quite enough not to take up Sick Boy's offer of Spanish Tapas for 2....

I arrive at the restaurant feeling very mixed, half hearted, I suppose, about this date. So as I begin to walk up to the restaurant frontage, I scan the bar for Sick Boy...the restaurant area is pretty busy with couples, friends, families and I can not spot any single men awaiting my arrival...just as I am about to hightail it back to the taxi rank, I get eye contact with Sick Boy, he is sitting in the very corner of the bar, glass of red in hand and gives me the nod that it is he! I feel quite edgy, he does not look like his photos...not in a totally bad way...just very different to the image I had built up in my mind. Definately alot thinner and older. Anyhoo in for a penny in for a pound it's too late to bail, particularly in these heels. So in I go. What really takes me by surprise is how nervous Sick Boy seems. I mean, having read his profile, he seems very confident and successful and self assured. Well we're at that utterly awkward introduction stage where you really have no idea what the other person is thinking and whether he's pleasantly surprised or terribly disappointed by my persona. As this is racing through my mind, I am also trying to take in his first impressions on me. Attractive face, tall....I see beads round his neck, but it's more to do with his nervous disposition and the fact that he's clearly had a few riojas! To be honest, as I sit on the bar stool and order a glass of red to join him, my initial thoughts are this is not a flyer and we are not gunna hit it off. Sick Boy launches into how he's only been on the internet dating website 10 days (everyone seems to say this...we're all new to it..NOT! See you at the annual reunion Sick Boy et al!) Sick Boy compliments me on my profile...this has happened a fair bit, I guess as I don't site DVDs and bottles of wine as my major hobbies and that my life is the greatest of all, it makes my profile stand out from the rest! Very quickly Sick Boy is telling me about his ex partner, who used to paint amazing nudes of women on canvas - she's the one from the profile, who ran off with her best female friend and is now 'tipping the velvet' full time. I quite like his candidacy but I also can't help feeling dubious about the story, let's go back a few dates to Mr Adulterer his Mrs was bi-sexual so the story went...anyhoo I am all ears and I re-assure Sick Boy that he's not alone. We move to our table, which thankfully is next to the bar and away from the masses, ideal for first date conversation. Sick Boy and I order. Calamari, olives, king prawns and a salad to share. We are now 2 glasses of rioja down and Sick Boy decides white wine would be good with the meal. He then tells me that he's had 'bad guts' for the past few days...mmm....he does look as if he is in a slightly cold sweat and I ask him if he feels ok. He says absolutely....and canes another glass of wine. The food comes and we have both relaxed into a fun and interesting conversation about work, previous relationships, likes and dislikes. Sick Boy suddenly says he needs to get some air...internet dating etiquette radar raises the alarm within - is he now bailing leaving me with the bill and the embarrassment of Tapas Tango gone wrong...hey ho I think as I see Sick Boy do a 'pink panther...de da...da de....da de da de da de da de daaaaaa de de de de! past the window....what happens next is a new one on me. I see Sick Boy hunched over the fire exit door at the side of the restaurant, vomitting....the reason I know he is vomitting is a pool of you know what is now trickling past the window where I am sitting looking at garlic mayonnaise and battered calamari. Mmm not the only ingredient 'battered' on this date me thinks! The restaurant doors swing open and Sick Boy returns, no mention of the 'incident', telling me he feels a whole lot better and shall we get another round of drinks!!! I can't stop myself so I ask him..."have you just been sick?" "Erm yes he replies, so sorry I have a really bad stomach upset". Sexy Sick Boy...he then tells me he needs a mint and stumbles to the bar to ask for one. At this point 2 waiters go outside under the instruction of the loudly spoken bar manager to clear up the mess! Jesus. For whatever reason, which escapes me now, I agree to head off to a cocktail bar for last orders with Sick Boy who decides Amaretto is the answer to lining his 'bad guts' I suggest that a milkshake may be more appropriate and an early night, for him only! He tells me I'm one cool lady...I must be I'm still here and as we part company on the taxi rank and Sick Boy leans in for a kiss....I manage to out wit him and fall into the back seat....as far as I remember he never did have that mint and I know the sayng goes you gotta kiss alot of frogs to find your prince but I draw the line at Sick breath...Sick Boy! Still searching....and who knows for how long!

A Stranger Gave Me Flowers Today...

Imagine this...I'm stepping out on my lunch break from work, my hands are full and I'm a woman on a mission, elbows at 90 degree angles, heading to the post office, for an all important mailing session. I have just managed to light, albeit clumsily, the much needed Marlborough Menthal to get me through the lunch hour rush in town. All I know is I'm half way through my day job and I'll soon be gleefully driving home with another day in the office done. Out of nowhere comes the said Stranger, who thrusts a bunch of lillies in green flower stall wrapper in my face! Wow! I stop. He bumbles on to tell me that he has seen me a few times and just had to do this today or he would never do it! I am flabberghasted! And in true idiot style I say "Good for you...how cool is it to give a stranger flowers...and more people should do this...blah blah-dee blah!" He then pushes a torn off piece of paper into my hand and tells me his name is Phil and that he would REALLY like to take me out. This is the stuff movies are made of, right? I mean, ok let's take a raincheck here. He is pushing 40, slightly receding, smart casual, harmless looking. At this stage I am feeling totally elated! What a fantastic thing to do to make someones day....I am now babbling, I introduce myself and ask if he works locally. 'No' is the Strangers response he works from home, but his grandmother lives in town - all very sweet I think. There's an awkward pause and thank him again for being so spontaneous and nice. I walk off in the direction of the masses and the mailing station commonly known as a frigging undoubtedly rammed post office and he heads in the other direction. I am beaming..expecting all my passers by to now realise that I just got given flowers by a stranger. This is like an old fashioned musical should I pirouette around the lampost or go legs akimbo over the taxs on the rank? Erm no....just keep walking, try not to set the lillies on fire with the Marlborough Menthal.

Fast Forward 2 days....

It's Friday morning, I am in the office...thanking fuck it is Friday and I am facing 2 whole days away from the brain drain misery - yipee! The phone rings...I pick up...a male voice says Hi it's Phil. My mind races....Phil...any clients that I'm on first name terms with, called Phil - erm NO. Then the icy discomfort flows over me. Phil is the Stranger with the flowers. He apologises for calling me in work. But all I can think is, all my mind is consumed with is, is how does Phil know where I work? My mind races back to that conversation on the street and I am certain that my workplace was not discussed or disclosed.....I feel awkward, intruded upon and I just want to get off the phone. He asks me if he could take me out for lunch today. I stutter and stumble and bascially make my excuses that I have plans, which i dont, I will be mainly freezing my tits off, eating a soggy sandwich in the park, but hey. And as I place the receiver down I feel incredibly uneasy.