Belly-Dancing Groupies

Edna and I went ‘belly-dancing’ last night, as we always do on a Wednesday night. It became a bit of a regular thing a few months ago when we stopped working together. Wednesdays are Sushi, Belly-Dancing (aka a pint or maybe, two), Over Analysis and a Swim night. We only make it to the pool about a 3rd of the time;-)

Last night we had a major weekend debrief to do plus she had to dump Steps (see entry for Friday night). After a fairly fun, but intense weekend she had told him on Monday morning that she would call him on Thursday evening ‘cause she was busy until then. So he texted her…30odd times and when she didn’t return the texts, he called her and left messages. It had got to the point by Wednesday afternoon where she couldn’t pick up the phone and had a face like thunder because of the stress of it all.

After much consultation with other friends at work (yes, she does have other buddies) it was decided that he had to go. So after a ‘courtship’ of just 4 days, she was going to dump him. The general consensus was that due to the lengthy duration of the ‘relationship’ a phone dumping was acceptable.

So after Sushi, that’s what she did while I popped into the supermarket. It was all over…a weight was lifted.

We were wrong…as we sat and drank the first Strongbow of the evening he texted saying that ‘cause of all the bulls*it he’d never have a relationship again. She ignored it. Twenty minutes later he texted again, this time asking if they could still be friends. This went on …and on…and on. As far as I’m aware there have been no texts today.

All the drama, laughter and cider inspired us to come up with the 4P’s of dating. A joint effort that rates the following of each potential boyfriend. Each of the following is scored out of 10 with a maximum rating of 40.

Personality – Does he make me laugh? Does he make weird sweeping statements about things he knows nothing about? Does have similar interests? Is he safe to air to your friends?
Performance – Does he make my toes curl? Does he do things you never knew you could do? Does he do the hokey pokey? Is he aware that hickies are totally unacceptable after the age of 12?
Presentation – Does he have holes in his socks? How does he smell? Does he give a pash rash that rivals a radiation accident scrub down? Does the six pack on his stomach rival the six pack in his fridge?
Post-Coital – How does he behave after the deed? Is he still exhibiting the niceness of before or does he just say ‘OK, let’s get you home sweetie?’ Can he remember your name?

Needless to say, this was a two-thirds night. But we did get to be groupies for the acoustic guitar player that is always on, on a Wednesday!

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Credit where credit's due : Thanks to Edna for the contributions in purple and for allowing me to share her story ;-)