The bus stop barrister

Back in September for my coworker's birthday, we went on Friday night. Four of us single women - me the youngest by almost two decades. First we hit a local wine bar near our office and plowed our way through an unknown quantity of French white. We were chucked out at 11 and somehow along the way we picked up a barrister, another coworker and his girlfriend as we tromped up the road to somewhere still serving.

It didn't take long before there were three of us dancing on the bar - I was actually glad when the music stopped because in that state of of drunkenness, I was surprised to have not fallen off the bar. My coworkers dropped me at a bus stop to get home. No buses were forthcoming and in my double vision drunk state, I tried to hail a taxi, only to end up flailing my arms at cars that weren't actually taxis.

A man at the bus stop chatted me up and after a bit invited me to go with him to find somewhere else that still serving. This was probably a bad idea bearing in mind my current state, but I agreed. He was a barrister and had a cute Northern Irish accent. We found somewhere still open and upon receiving my gin and tonic I promptly dropped it on the floor and smashed the glass.

St closing time he invited me back to his place, which seemed like a good idea at the time. We caught a cab and went to Stoke Newington, stopped at a shop and picked up a bottle of wine and a pack of fags. He had a beautiful two bedroom flat in a converted warehouse near Clissold Park. Wood floors and high ceilings. He had recently bought it (for 350K) and even more recently moved in. Everything was in boxes.

I don't know how long we stayed up talking before we ended up in bed. I remember thinking that I had a renewed confidence in the ability of men to give good oral sex. I did, however, put this down to his age - 37.

I woke up with a killer hangover, but put on the Velvet Underground, though a bit too loud for his taste. We went to breakfast and then a wander around Clissold Park. I was slightly uncomfortable with him trying to get a bit romantic with me while we looked at the deer and rabbits and skirted away. It is one thing to have sex with a strange, but quite another to hold hands and kiss in public - this is a sign of intimacy that I am only comfortable with after a certain amount of time and commitment. He asked if he could see me again and I gave him my number, but with the warning that I had lost my phone (I was a bit disappointed with myself that I had gone drunkenly home with a man when I did not even have a mobile) and that it would be a few days for I got a new one.

He did of course text after I got a new phone and wanted to set up a date for the weekend before he was about to jet off to Riga to give a lecture. I hummed and hawed about whether to see him again as I was not sure whether I actually fancied him and felt that 37 was a wee bit old for me. A 37 year old commercial barrister earning 200K a year that was still living the bachelor lifestyle, having not even been married and divorced, was a bit strange to me.

At friends urging, I did agree to meet him once sober before making up my mind.

On the day of our date, a Saturday, I had a wicked hangover and had taken a friend/shag buddy home with me the night before. A and I dragged ourselves out of bed at around 3pm, got some lunch and then off I went to get ready. Slightly odd way to start.

We met in Chinatown at around 6, then went for a wander towards some pubs that he knew, or purported to know, as we got lost on the way. We stopped at a cash point because we both needed some funds. There I was thinking, even if I don't want to see him again, at least he said that he would take me out and, well, I've never had a guy offer to take me out on a proper date and pay for everything. Luck be it, the cash machine ate his card and he didn't have any other cards. So ultimately, I paid for it all. We went to a pub, had a few drinks, though not many because I wasn't fully recovered from the night before.

We then went on to chinatown for a meal and at about 11 I managed to bid him farewell. He did ask whether I wanted to go back to his place - cheeky bugger. To which I said I didn't feel well and had to go home.

Incidentally, I did not go home, but went and met KT and some other friends at our local and gave her the lowdown.

Oh well, an unsuccessful date. To his credit, he did get in touch to try to convince me to go out with him again and he would take me out to make up for the lost card. Honestly though, it would have been more effort than what it was worth. I decided I really didn't fancy the guy and he being 37 going on 27 didn't sit well with me.

I do still wonder whether I will run into him again - his chambers is a stone's throw from my office and I am just waiting for the day when I run smack into him on the pavement at lunch time.