Smouldering

Waxing is the socially-acceptable form of self-harm, I came to realise yesterday as I was bending myself into odd positions attempting to wax my bikini line.

Unlike most women, I love waxing. I love the quick, sharp pain and the satisfaction of baby-smooth skin afterwards. Hence the reason I do it myself rather than let some bored teenager in a salon do it.

As disgusting as it is to admit it, I enjoy causing myself the pain.

On an un-related note, I went to another comedy club last night and met a man. Two men, really.

The first was the comedian himself who quickly picked up on my singledom and proceeded to proposition me throughout the show. I always did like a man who can make me laugh. In fact, when a boss of mine asked me last Summer what I look for in a man, I quite (infamously) said that if he can make me laugh, he can pretty much have me. Simple, but true. I'm now trying to decide whether it would be considered stalkerish for me to turn up to his show on Saturday night. I need a male opinion, but sadly I am lacking in male heterosexual friends who could answer honestly.

The second man broke my heart. He was quite simply smouldering. Hands down sexiest man I've ever been in a room with. We made quite a lot of eye contact as we were mooching around outside the club, waiting for the doors to open. He then followed me up to the hotel bar, where I was sitting on a stool doing my best impression of alluring, 1940s hotel bar female. Naturally the bargirl went to serve him first, even though I'd been there longer, but he corrected her. A quick flash of the lashes and a breathy thank you was all I was able to manage before a woman appeared behind him - clearly his girlfriend. She glared me back into submission before pulling him away.

Cut to the interval. In the first half of the show, thanks to my comedian friend it had emerged that I was single, vaguely attractive (beautiful was the word used, repeatedly), wearing a beautiful dress etc. I went back up to the bar to get myself a drink (as instructed by the comedian who said I'd be more likely to sleep with him if drunk - if only he knew) only to be followed by Smouldering American (as I shall now call him). He started talking to me.. flirting unashamedly. Telling me he couldn't believe I was single and that not one person in that room was up in the bar buying me a drink. As we failed to get the attention of the barstaff, we pooled drinks orders with him telling me to look sultry to attract attention. Sadly I am nowhere near skilled enough with words to describe the sheer chemistry we had. I have never, ever felt that with a man I've just met.

Then his girlfriend came and retrieved him and we parted ways. If I'm honest, I don't even care that he has a girlfriend (horrid, I know). I just know that were we to meet again, our clothes, beautiful or not, wouldn't stay on for very long.

All in all, a pleasing pain-filled (in more than one way) day.