Hi there and hello my Lovely Lovertons!
The day is looming up large and loathe-some. Paper-mache hearts adorn every shop window and street corner. Starry eyed teenagers long for their first secret admirer and long term relationships suffer the monetary turmoil of how much is too much? That’s right lovers, it’s almost Valentines Day.
Those who are coupled up and cosy this Saturday will scoff and say things like “Oh we never celebrate, every day is Valentines day for us.”
Excuse me while I wash the vomit out of my mouth with another shot of vodka.
Everyone gets sucked into Valentines day, whether we are single, coupled or yet to decide. There is literally no escaping it, even if you try. Seriously, you try and book a holiday around this day and everything is on special for those damn couples. Luckily most bars have fabulous two for one offers so you are able to drown your sorrows much cheaper than a regular Saturday.
I am sadly one of the many girls who has never received a rose. And you know what? It doesn’t bother me at all. Until February 14th that is. Something about this day makes even the most sensible of us sign up for Valentines speed dating or drag ourselves to the closest bar in hopes of getting a cheeky snog. Just so we can tell all the couples to shove their cuddling and trump it with hot stranger sex. (Which normally turns out to be quite the soggy limp affair after the amount of champagne consumed takes effect of both of you.)
So why can’t this day be what we want it to be? This year I have decided to take charge of my Valentines day. I have my vibrator. I have my pack of Tim Tam’s and I have my box set of Sex and the City. Oh yes, this will be a day to remember 😉
But I haven’t forgotten the romantic side of old Val’s Day, which is why this week instead of re-telling my dating dodginess, I’m going to share a few stories of how I think love should be. They are all fictional of course (things rarely turn out this perfectly) but I love to write them with the hope that one day my sexy, smart, well dressed, hilarious and well endowed prince will come. (Hopefully not all over my face)
So enjoy Lovers, and let your fantasies take life!
It was a warm summers day in Louisiana. Clara fidgeted in her store bought corset as she rode. The costume party earlier had been a blast, and Clara’s extra touch of entering via horseback had firmly secured her first prize. She had certainly shown that pathetic Pocahontas try-hard a thing or two about committing to a role.
As she trotted through the dense foliage, Clara pondered who exactly she would take to her well deserved and rightly won dinner date. It was at one of the fanciest places in town, so she couldn’t very well take her Dad again. She sighed. It seemed she had everything in life but the perfect man. She’d had relationships of course, but nothing to write home about, which was what she was forced to do when the boredom of her life threatened to overcome her. Clara dug her heels in a little more and Pansy her horse sped up a little. The less time spent thinking the better, that was her motto.
All of sudden Pansy let out a little whinny. Clara knew better than to ignore her horse and her eyes scanned the tree-line, looking for anything amiss.
From behind her she heard footsteps and she swung Pansy around to face whoever was approaching.
Three pirates emerged from the brush and Clara had to bite her lip to stop from giggling. She had just been speaking to the men a few hours earlier. Admittedly all the champagne she had drunk may have loosened her lips a little about her trust fund, private yacht and townhouse, but they were all friends right?
Besides, it would just be far too ironic to be robbed by a bunch of pirates!
Turns out not so much, as one of the men drew his plastic sword, scowling and attempting to look menacing.
Clara laughed and waved a hello at them as she turned Pansy back around and trotted towards home.
Her heart did a little flip as she heard the men break into a run, but she maintained her composure and didn’t turn.
A shot rang out and Clara screamed as the bullet flew ever so dramatically just past her cheek.
Pansy bucked and kicked, terrified by the noise. Clara turned, and saw the pirates gaining fast. She kicked Pansy into a gallop and reached into her saddle bag to pull out the .48 Magnum she always carried. (The gun not the icecream) Firing off a few warning shots behind her she tried to scare them off. Unfortunately this just invited them to shoot at her with even more enthusiasm. She pulled the trigger again, attempting to aim this time, but the gun just clicked. It was empty! She cursed, remembering how she was showing off with it at the party. She threw the gun at them, hoping it would hit one of them, knowing of course it wouldn’t. The whole saying throws like a girl stemmed straight from her, and as she suspected, the gun clattered uselessly the dirt. About four seconds later some very un – ladylike words exploded from Clara’s mouth as she remembered the spare bullets in her purse. She tried to breathe evenly though as steadily the distance between herself and the men grew, and when she felt they were far enough away she turned to face the road again.
Just in time to be collected by a low hanging tree branch.
It struck her straight in the stomach, and Clara flew several metres through the air before skidding to a halt on the dirt.
She gasped, completely winded. Clara tried to call out to her horse, but it looked like Pansy was really living up to his name today as his tail disappeared into the brush.
She gathered her billowy skirts to her, hoping the thousands of layers of silk and chiffon would make her look much bigger than she actually was.
This was just too ridiculous. Being chased on horseback by pirates? She must be dreaming.
But as they began to close in on her, plastic swords at the ready, newly dry-cleaned costumes practically glistening in the sunlight, she began to fear that this may indeed be the end for Clara Bechamel.
And that was when The Hulk swung in.
Clara watched, mouth agape, as a beautifully painted green man jumped from a tree branch onto one of the pirates. He was magnificent. One punch to each of the pirates and they were down. His body paint started to smear as sweat poured down him from his exertions. Clara liked. Clara liked a lot.
When finally the last of the pirates was out, Mr Hulk, or should we say, Mr Hunk, approached her.
Clara tried to compose herself, but failed miserably when she realised the mans costume was in fact entirely comprised of body paint, and in hot weather like this was sliding off him like ice cream left out of the freezer. Ice cream that she could eat all day. Stop it! She screamed to herself, shaking her head crossly.
“Are you hurt?” the stunning Adonis before her asked. Clara slowly raised her head and before she knew it, her eyes had locked with his.
Blue eyes, lush brown hair and with chin stubble she could practically grate parmesan on, he was absolute perfection.
Words failed her, but as if they had but one mind, he came and sat beside her, easing an arm ever so slowly around her shaking shoulders.
“Thankyou.” She whispered to him, ashamed of the wobble in her voice. She hadn’t realised just how terrified she had been.
“You’re very welcome.” He said, pulling her into a tight embrace.
Clara inhaled deeply and was rewarded with the tangy mix of body paint and his musky man scent. She could stay like this forever.
“I suppose we’d better get you home.” He said after a time.
Clara nodded, saddened that her magic moment was so soon to be over. He eased her up onto her feet, never straying far from her side. He seemed as drawn to her as she was to him. Like some powerful magnet prevented them from being separated.
“Where do you live?” he asked, his hand still resting on her shoulder, it’s heat burning right through to Clara’s skin.
Clara flicked her head in the direction of her house, remembering the cold empty rooms, void of any life but for her and her pets.
She noticed a change in his demeanour and gazed up at him, drinking in his beautiful green features.
“What is it?” she asked nervously
“ I believe you’ll find you’ve got yourself a new neighbour.” He grinned
Clara’s jaw dropped and before she could get a hold of herself she threw herself into his arms.
“Have I got a housewarming for you!” she cried
He laughed, his deep chuckle resonating through the tree’s.
Clara let her feet drop back to the ground but didn’t release her hold on him. His arm circled her waist and with the other he tilted her chin up to meet his mouth in a deep, warm kiss.
Clara’s legs failed her, and had it not been for his support, she would have fallen. But he held her tight, as unwilling to let go of her as she was to leave him.
They finally broke apart as a soft whinny issued from the trees to their left. Pansy broke through the trees and sheepishly approached Clara. She ran over to him, cradling his head in her hands, overjoyed to see him back.
When she turned back around her green saviour was looking at her with a strange intensity.
“What?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“ It’s you.” He said “I want to know everything about you. You-” he looked around, searching for the words. “You completely mystify me, and yet I can see myself marrying you tomorrow.”
Clara snorted and clamped a hand to her mouth in embarrassment.
He smiled, clearly abashed.
“We’ll just start with names. I’m Ben.”
Clara looked at him, knowing she had finally found what she had been searching for.
She held her hand out playfully for him to kiss.
He walked forward, bending down to kiss her hand before sweeping her legs off the ground.
“ I believe we should get to know each other better.” He said “ What do you suggest?”
“Well,” said Clara slowly “I do just happen to have a dinner voucher…”
He laughed that beautiful laugh, and as he carried her off into the sunset, his green paint smudging her pristine white corset, the last thing on her mind was dry cleaning…
Love you long time!
Pick up line of the day: How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice!