Ah, summer has arrived in London. It is no longer freezing cold and raining with a grey sky. Now it is clammy and humid while raining, with a grey sky.
I had a fifth date with Mr Environmentalist, aka Pedro. We went to see a film that I won’t review here in case he finds the blog. Then we went back to his house and I stayed over which was a mistake really because we both snore and kept each other awake all night. I knew that was a bad move. My top tip for having sex with people who you are dating: set aside time to have sex. It is a date in its own right. Do not tack it on to the end of another date by which time it’s late, you’re both tired and both could do with some quality sleep before work.
Anyway. Despite that small tactical error, we are still getting on well.
I find him very emotionally expressive and romantically demonstrative, a lot more than I am used to. He seems like he wants romance. I wonder why he picked me and why he hasn’t found what he’s looking for already. So I asked him some questions about it.
On the subject of monogamy (he is a long-established monogamist while I object to it on principle), he explained that women who he’s met previously from the dating website helped bring the relationship to an end by demanding a monogamous commitment too soon, before they’d had a chance to develop any feelings for each other. I thought that was interesting. I’m not sure it completely answered the question but it partly answered it so OK. Then I said ‘what are you going to do next time I go on holiday? You will be jealous’ and he said ‘no, I won’t’.
Then I asked him what he is looking for, a conversation that went like this:
Gloria: What are you looking for, Pedro? Do you want to be in love?
Pedro: Of course. I want that every day.
! I am not used to this kind of talk. As you know, readers, I am no stranger to the joys of falling in love, but still. JC would have cut his own throat before saying something like that.
Let’s have some UK garage. Let’s have some Mark the Ruff Ryder. Love his London accent and his dirty London sounds.
Once upon a time I walk in my manor. Come across a bad boy selecta.
Mark Ruff Ryder: Joy