Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy(29)







ESCALATING DATING INCOMPETENCE


ON THE FIRST DATE – JUST GO ALONG WITH WHAT HE SUGGESTS

Wednesday 19 September 2012

134lb, pounds gained 1, dating rules broken 2.

9.15 p.m. Chloe can’t do Saturday night, and instead of putting my energy into finding someone else, have obsessed and fantasized so much about the dinner, and what am going to wear, and the way he will look up at me when I appear in the navy silk dress, that have not organized anything else. Gaah! Text from Leatherjacketman! <Fancy a movie on Saturday? Argo?>

9.17 p.m. Argo? Argo? A movie is not a PROPER DATE! Argo is a guy movie! The navy silk dress would be overdressed at a movie. And anyway Chloe can’t do Saturday and . . .

9.20 p.m. Just sent: <How about dinner? Would like to get to know you better.>

DON’T MAKE IT ALL ABOUT THE BABYSITTER

9.21 p.m. Me: <Also – babysitter problems Saturday night. Any chance we could do Friday??>

10 p.m. Oh God, oh God. Leatherjacketman has not replied. Maybe he is out? With another woman?

11 p.m. Leatherjacketman: <Can’t do Friday. How about the week after? Friday? Or Saturday?>

11.05 p.m. Texted back <Yes! Saturday!> then slumped. He wants to wait a whole week? How can he bear it?

Sunday 23 September 2012

9.15 p.m. Agonizing. Leatherjacketman has ignored me all weekend. Has clearly gone off me. If was ever on me in first place.

10 p.m. Am going to try to get things going again.

DON’T PREARRANGE FIRST-TIME SEX

<So sorry about moving things around. Will wear high heels on Saturday to make up for it! And babysitter is staying over.>

Monday 24 September 2012

136lb, pounds gained 2, texts from Leatherjacketman (possibly as result of pounds gained, even though has not seen yet) 0.

9.15 p.m. Leatherjacketman has not replied. Thinks am desperate slut.

Tuesday 25 September 2012

135lb, texts from Leatherjacketman 1 (bad).

11 a.m. Just got reply!

<Great. How about ENO in Notting Hill. 7.45? Looking forward to the heels.>

He hates me.

Saturday 29 September 2012

Number of times changed outfit for date 7, minutes late for date 25, positive thoughts during date 0, texts sent to Leatherjacketman 12, texts received from Leatherjacketman 2, Dating Rules broken 13, positive outcomes of entire experience 0.

BE ON TIME, REMEMBERING THAT THIS IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN CHANGING OUTFITS AND PUTTING ON MAKE-UP, RATHER LIKE WHEN CATCHING A PLANE

7 p.m. Spent so long putting on outfits and taking them off again, that minicab went away, has not come back and now I cannot find taxi in street. Have sent series of hysterical texts to which only reply has been: <Plenty of taxis here.>

8 p.m. In the Electric Bar. Ended up bringing car but was so late that have had to dump it in residents’ bay where am sure to get a ticket. Leatherjacketman is not here.

MAKE SURE YOU BOTH THINK YOU’RE GOING TO THE SAME PLACE AT THE SAME TIME

8.10 p.m. Oh, shit! Shit! He didn’t say the Electric. He said ENO.

8.15 p.m. Deranged now. Just sent him text saying have gone to wrong place and now have to run to ENO.

WHEN YOU ARRIVE, BE RELAXED AND SMILE, LIKE A GODDESS OF LIGHT AND CALM

Turned up at ENO forty minutes late to be confronted by a greeter lady who clearly thought I was a mad person who should be ushered out.

I realized I couldn’t either see Leatherjacketman or remember his real name.

Eventually located him, engrossed, horrifyingly, at a long table of cool advertising-style people, had to actually go over and touch his shoulder to get his attention, at which he tried to introduce me but obviously couldn’t remember my name either.

He tried to get me to join them. But the restaurant couldn’t fit in another chair, so we had to go to a table for two, with Leatherjacketman repeatedly glancing over at his sophisticated friends, clearly thinking how much more fun they were than me.

When leaving, the sophisticated friends invited us both on to a party, at which, thinking, ‘Nooooo!’ I said, ‘Yes! That would be great!’

I lost him immediately at the scary party, hid in the toilet.

DO NOT GET DRUNK OR OTHERWISE INTOXICATED

When I found him, he was smoking pot. I have not smoked pot for fifteen years and then it was two puffs, which made me so paranoid that I thought people were ignoring me when they were actually talking to me. Nevertheless gave in to Leatherjacketman’s friends’ peer pressure and had two drags on the joint. Immediately became completely stoned and paranoid.

Perhaps noticing this, he whispered, ‘Shall we go in here?’ gesturing at a closed door. Nodded mutely.

We were in a spare bedroom, covered in coats. He closed the door, pushed me against it, kissing my neck, sliding his hand up my skirt, murmuring, ‘Did you say your babysitter was staying over?’

Nodded mutely.

DO NOT TRY TO HAVE SEX BEFORE YOU’RE READY

Not only was I stoned, not only was I paranoid, but I hadn’t had sex for four and a half years and I was absolutely terrified. What if he thought I was revolting without my clothes on? What if I slept with him and he didn’t ring me again? What if I couldn’t remember how to do it?

‘Are you OK?’

DO NOT KEEP DISAPPEARING INTO THE TOILET FOR AGES OR HE WILL THINK YOU HAVE A DRUG OR DIGESTIVE PROBLEM

Helen Fielding's Books