No sex in this city: Who needs a name?!?

A few weeks ago I went for a long boozy lunch with a girlfriend and ended up having evening drinks at Mrs Sippy's in Double Bay.

As you can imagine despite having a hefty lunch this little lushie couldn’t quite take the epic drinking hours in her stride and was rather tipsy by the time the local talent was arriving at double bay’s hottest new bar.

With the courage of a cup of whiskey I stride up to a bunch of young gents and swiftly introduce myself, flirt outrageously and possibly incoherently and manage to swap numbers with one of them.

The thing is.... I have no idea who. Whoever it was had sent me a text message around midnight that same night which read as follows:

“Hey…just met you but want to root you later. Give me a call”

Um…..thankfully I was getting some much needed sleep when this arrived. But is this man serious!?!? ROOT you! LATER?!?!?! I had to laugh. This man got front. I showed it to a couple of my good male friends who evidently thought it was bonza. Whatevs Neanderthals!

I have to admit I did think it was funny but only because I had no idea who it came from and thought it might have actually been a joke.

I thought nothing more of it until last week I was back at said venue after the polo and bumped into a friend who I saw the night of the ‘root’ message. He was with a young gent also there that night and I immediately pulled out the message and asked him if it was him who had sent it. Appalled this guy replid NO very convincingly and they all proceeded to laugh. I was like ok let’s call it then and see if YOU answer. So I did. And no it wasn’t the man standing in front of me. EEK!

I proceeded to ask the man on the line his name which I again immediately forgot. Mainly because I freaked myself out that I had the balls to call him!

Mystery root messenger then sent me sms’s about wanting to buy me a drink and that he was driving so he would pick me up etc…this went on for a while. But I had by then gone home and tucked myself up in bed yet again. This time I didn't wake up to another invitation to be 'rooted' thankfully. Whoever you are you seem keen so I hope to god you’re a good sort after all this!

Again I think nothing more about it until yesterday when I receive another text message from MRM asking if I was free for dinner the next night. Hmmm this is better, an invitation for dinner…we’re making progress. Ok I say and we agree to go for an early dinner as I have a party to go to later that night.

The problem is, I STILL do not know this person’s name. Mortified I finally tell my flattie about this issue and she saves the day by calling him from my home phone which has a blocked number and asked for Jacob (I hope to god his name is not Jacob!!!) Sweating over this small fact whilst she plays detective I finally breathe when it turns out he is NOT in fact Jacob. THANK GOD for that WE HAVE A NAME!!!