Posted by: purplediva | May 19, 2010

Rabbit in the headlights…..

My very first article from ‘Do men lie for sex’   just in case you missed it……

The big lie...for sex

Jessica Rabbit 😉

Hanging on his every word, with me giggling like a demented schoolgirl every time he said something mildly amusing, we walked arm in arm down the corridor.  Reaching the door, he deftly pulled out the key from his pocket whilst holding my gaze.  I was bewitched and under his spell.

Ironically, it hadn’t been ‘him’ that I’d been interested in, but his brother, who I knew well, which is how we’d been introduced.  3 brothers actually, all pilots but in different fields, commercial, private and the RAF.  I was impressed and a little excited that someone of their ‘standing’ would be interested in little ‘ol me.

With a decree absolute still raw and slightly smarting, and after 3 months of a debilitating illness that I’d only just recovered from, this was my first night of freedom for months.  It was coming up to Christmas.  I was vulnerable …

With a few friends from my dance group, we ventured off, first to a local pub and then onto a nightclub, with the ‘3 musketeers’ (pilots) in tow, as they were staying together with the brother that I knew, at a nearby hotel.  RAF man was flying out to Bosnia in a few days to begin a long period of placement there.

It was a wonderful evening, lots of laughter and merriment. I couldn’t drink alcohol as I was driving, but that didn’t stop the fun and frolics.  And then ‘he’ (RAF man) uttered those infamous words……no, not what you’re thinking, but far more subtle; “You are simply amazing, I could talk to you all night”.

And I fell for it!

So, I agree to drive him back to the hotel where he is staying for a couple of nights, and have innocently decided it would be okay to go in for a coffee and that further little talk, because I really am so amazing.  Being female, the first thing I do is to check out the bathroom, especially after a night of copious drinking and intermittent snogging.  It’s probably the first time for a couple of hours that I’ve checked to see if my trademark red lipstick isn’t smeared up to my nose and down to my chin, giving me a trout pout to rival that of Lesley Ash or Meg Ryan (but I’m not quite so cute looking…..(It’s quite hard to be ‘cute’ when you’re a plumpcious size 16, don’t you think?)

Walking out of the bathroom my jaw drops quicker than my rose tinted glasses. I’m suddenly faced with the stark reality of the situation before me, akin to being thrust in front of Simon Cowell and the full force of the x factor judges along with glaring theatrical lights spotlighting ME!   I am confronted by RAF man, laying face up, naked on the bed, grinning, and, let’s just say for the sake of lady like decorum….fairly proud of himself!

The enormity of the situation, rather than his ‘proudness’ was what struck me.  He certainly had nothing to be proud of.  I’d smiled and occasionally lusted over larger courgettes in Sainsbury’s than what was now thrust in front of me, BUT what the hell was I going to do?

Like a rabbit in the headlights, my penance for my stupidity (although I’m not particularly religious so don’t know why I use this word), was to stay, give myself a 5 second talking to, and, strike a Madonna-esque pose.  All the while, muttering under my breath words like ‘stupid cow’ and ‘brace yourself Ethel’, and humming in my head silently, ‘always look on the bright side of life…dodo dodo dodododo’.

Ironically, there was nothing to brace, it was over and done in seconds, and I felt like a piece of pooh.  So, I guess the big question is…why did I stay?

The simple answer is, because ‘I’ felt responsible. I genuinely, 100% thought he wanted to ‘talk’ to me.  I was 33 years old, divorced, with 2 children, a mortgage, and full time career…..HOW could I have been so ‘bleeping’ stupid?  Not to mention immature … not to have seen through the façade and blarney that I was being spun like candyfloss on a stick.  I couldn’t even blame it on alcohol consumption!

I didn’t see through it, because I didn’t want to.  I wanted to believe that someone wanted me, in a naïve way despite the truth showing itself in full glorious technicolor, 3D and with scratch n sniff features!   I walked away with a fake smile, having learnt one of ‘the’ best lessons I’ve ever learnt in my life, albeit with a high price tag.

Men lie for sex.

The trick is in asking the right questions to determine the genuine ones, of which there are many.  As the saying goes, ‘you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince’ and thank God my trout pout days are well and truly over.

Although … I am still quite partial to the occasional tingle …


  1. I absolutely loved this post – refreshingly honest and fantastically written, as always. It also reminded me of my wild young days, where I now look back and smile and think “thank goodness I did that all back then”!!!!! x

  2. so sorry you have disappeared..

    • I am still here John….just that ‘Daisy’ has disappeared from FB for the moment. She may be back 🙂

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