Ladies of Peru

I've met a girl, a special girl. We went for an afternoon coffee in Hampstead, she is tall and dark and exotically beautiful in that classically South American way.

We talked about silly things while the spring sun streamed in through the windows and then went for a gentle walk into town stopping in bars on the way, it was a lovely day. We ended up in a Cuban bar in Camden, drinking mojitos and having a conversation increasingly dusted with unsaid flirty implications. Just how I like it.

When it was time to go our seperate ways, she invited me to join her and her friends later that evening for cocktails in Soho. I dashed home and changed into some clothes more suitable for evening wear, pausing only to phone Henry as moral support and rushed out again.

We arrived before the girls and amused ourselves with the usual trick of drinking things we really shouldn't, enjoying the atmosphere and Henry started talking to some girls from Latvia.

Then my Peruvian girl appeared. She had changes out of a subtle yet sexy jeans and top combation (Of course well chosen for a first date) into a dress that was shockingly slinky and tight in places that a good (extremely lapsed) Christian chap that shouldn't think about too much. We had more cocktails together and there was talk of going dancing but I was fading rapidly due to having been up so late the night before. At around 2am I could take no more and made my excuses and left.

I said goodbye to the Peruvian, saying I was sorry to not see her dance (I was) and then inviting her too meet me for a lazy lunch on Sunday, she agreed and I positively skipped home.

On Sunday I woke up feeling refreshed but slightly nervy over if she was actually going to appear for our drunken meeting. It had been arranged in a bit of a boozy state so who knew if she even recalled it. Anyway, after a brief wait at the meeting point (My phone is still on the blink so it's very hard to co-ordinate meeting people) she appeared. We went to a great little cafe and had Israli food while reading the papers (Her the FT, me the style pages), it was a lovely second date a very different pace but better for it.

We shared an extremely lazy lunch we went to go and see a film together and then, rather sadly went home. I had to prepare the flat for the visiting Scottish chum (who is here drinking mulled wine right now) and do dull Sunday things, far less fun than hanging around with Peruvian beauties but sadly essential.

We are definitely going to meet up again, and I spent a good portion of this afternoon reading up on Peru just in case knowing the gross domestic product or rate of inflation comes up in conversation. I'd hate to be caught out.