Popping Your Cherry

“I’m writing this fuelled by my ‘reward pint’ and a ridiculous adrenaline high, but I simply had say: thanks mate. At age 38, after years of procrastinating, blog-lurking and being in relationships, today I finally bit the bullet. I downloaded this audio file to my phone, placed an intimidating handful of ten matchsticks in my left-hand back jeans pocket, and hit the streets of lovely old Vilnius town, where I found myself on business.

I started with a lucky lady sitting on a bench beside me for the coffee shop query and took it from there. My years of anxiety and excuses about doing this turned out to be, at the worst….. a slight social hiccup; a moment of mild confusion for the girl. You’ll have had worse if you’ve ever chit-chatted at a formal reception, a cocktail party, a new-found pub. Beyond these, three would, in any book, be adjudicated as hot. None of seemed bored; all smiled. One jumped when approached too suddenly. Two highlights.

– A girl in a vast, white, space-age insulated long coat, static and smoking a rollie, cried out for the stack. Done dusted, and happily ejecting as per the orders, she hooked my turning back, with, ‘So…where at you from?’ A very pleasant 10 minute tease ‘n’ chat.

– And then, nine down. A weasel voice pointed out that 90% is an outstanding first in the university marking system….why not bail now and get that pint in? But at that moment I clocked a pair of tight-clad legs, neat jacket, great hair, and pursued into Cathedral Square. I lost her through poor geometry, but at that precise second, saw beyond her, another: a mass of blonde; luxury winter coat. I got a glimpse of nose, but, you know, one of those half views from which you can’t determine the cut of her jib. The early spring square was nearly deserted, nearly dusk. Ice-pure Baltic air. I pivot.

“Excuse me, do you speak English? I just had to say….”

And there, at the reconstructed carriage gate of of the palace of the Grand Dukes of Lithuania, I vibe with and challenge….the most beautiful human I’ve ever talked to. I swear before God, a bone-fide, Kite-Marked nine, 20 years old. Ukrainian, of course. Just a little interaction. Going nowhere. But I see vast horizons swimming into view.

Thanks again


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