Let's start from the beginning, the first time the city of York saw me spread my wings...
As a newly hatched fresher, I met Hugo - a fellow Language student. His balance of laddish humour and gentlemanly charm offset his more than generous curves. Our childish passing of notes in class soon turned into texting, and our flirtatious conversation led to an arrangement to meet in Tokyo.
I love my flatmates, don't get me wrong, but when I asked them to come with me, they were less than keen. This is how I found myself, one cold Thursday evening, stumbling through blustering winds and over slippery ice to Tokyo like a new-born deer. Alone.
There he was, a blurry round figure in the purple and green Tokyo haze. I swooped in to take my prey. However, it wasn't long before I discovered Hugo was a rather traditional boy. No kissing in clubs, and getting off your face was even more disgraceful. What was I to do? There was a distinct lack of romance, and an even more disturbing absence of alcohol. Being sober in Tokyo isn't much fun, especially when your chirpse is a flailing disco queen.
I was determined.
Shivering on the street, he began to make what I believed at first to be the gentlemanly gesture of offering me his coat. It wasn't until he shrugged off the thin gilet over his thick under layer that I realised we had contrasting ideas of chivalry. He gave me half his coat? We hailed a taxi, and I was once again reminded of his conservatism - he refused to consider anything as outrageous as getting off in a taxi. Stage fright?
We ended up in his room - I was getting somewhere. Believing I finally had my chance, I perked up, as did my nipples in anticipation. Time to ruffle his feathers. He came around and we shared our first kiss. I experienced all the things a girl should after crushing on someone for so long. Lust, exhalation, and a rush of emotion. What I didn't expect, was the rancid garlic breath from his after-Toyko Efes. Head down, power through.
Barely seconds passed before Hugo stripped off, revealing a less than impressive 'little H'. Not the worm I had longed to peck, but beggars can't be choosers. Finally, he looked game. Looking deep into my eyes, I could tell that the next couple of hours were going to be exhilarating. We shared this moment for some time until, awkwardly, he slipped on a pair of Victorian style striped pyjamas, and crawled into bed for a 'sleep-over'.
Hugo turned out to be a little boy, and I was still waiting for someone to peck my cherry. It was time for this bird to get back to her own nest.
Little did I know, this was only the beginning of his story...
Gotta spread my wings (legs),
- Birdie xoxo