The winter sun was shining, and I was having a great Sunday, enjoying the sun at an Oxford Street rooftop bar. I had taken a weekend off from destroying soccer games, and I was trying to flirt with Mikayla Wang, my sexy colleague from the law firm.

Mikayla was everything I could wish for in a woman. She was single, beautiful, successful, and as far as I knew, HIV negative. As we drank our third cocktail, she put her hand on mine, leaned over, and looked into my eyes. Bingo! My charm was working. It was soon time for some bedroom gymnastics.

“I am having such a great time with you, Geoffrey. I am so glad that you took some time off from mentoring disadvantaged children, to hang out with me.” Mikayla said and smiled.

Bingo. I knew that mentoring disadvantaged children would sound better than refereeing angry adults. However, how would I deal with this lie if I started a relationship with Mikayla? Why worry, one step at a time, Geoffrey!

“Yes, as much as I love helping others, I must also look after myself. The cocktails in this place are to die for.” I exclaimed.
“Yes, it’s amazing to hang out with you here. We can be best friends forever. I am a total fag hag.” Mikayla said.
“Fag hag?” I asked.
“Yes, I love hanging out with homosexual men. I was so excited when you asked me to meet you here. My last BFF got deported to Melbourne.” Mikayla revealed.

Oh no. I had taken a day off soccer to hang out with my sexy colleague, who thought I was gay. What a complete waste of money. Yet, I could still salvage this afternoon. Mikayla was tipsy, and she looked at me with dilated pupils, so there were some sexual chemistry.

“Umm, as much as I love the gay scene, I am straight,” I said.
“Oh, I could never have imagined. You are so cultivated for a straight man.” Mikayla said.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It might be good. I need to go to the bathroom.” Mikayla said and headed for the bathroom.

I sighed. I hoped that I hadn’t played the good guy role too well with Mikayla. How annoying it would be to miss out on six hours of angry soccer players to have drinks with a beautiful woman without having sex!

I walked up to the bar and ordered a double scotch. Sex or no sex, I would still use this arvo to get shitfaced!

***

I stared at my whisky glass in awe when my friend Martin arrived at the venue, accompanied by a stunning East Asian woman. Was Martin cheating on his partner? More importantly, how the hell did he pick up such a bombshell while wearing his smelly and grass-stained referee outfit?

Martin and the Asian bombshell approached me, and Martin spoke. “Hi Geoffrey, this is Sarah that I told you about.”

My head spun. When the hell had Martin ever told me about dating a bombshell called Sarah? Most of his conversational topics were about his books, his dodgy refereeing calls, and his conspiracy theories.

“I’ll buy us a jug of beer. Sarah, why don’t you sit down and socialise with Geoff?” Martin said and walked off to the bar.

Sarah got seated, smiled at me with her cute dimples, and spoke: “So, you must be Geoffrey. Martin has told me so much about you. I love it when you feature in one of his stories.”
“Oh no, which ones have you read?” I asked.
“I have read all of them. I assumed that you were ugly from reading the stories, but he showed me your picture, and you are actually cute. That’s why I asked him to introduce us.” Sarah said.

I gasped in shock. Would Martin be helpful for once?

“Well, at least you know my little secrets now,” I said and faked a smile while hoping that Martin hadn’t shared too many embarrassing secrets about me.

“Oh Geoffrey, who is this woman?”

I stared in awe at Mikayla, who against the odds, had resurfaced from the bathroom. Why on Earth did this scenario play out for once. Usually, a woman spending this long time in the toilet would be trying to find an excuse to escape.

“Umm, hi Mikayla, this is Sarah. She is a friend of Martin.” I said.
“Nice to meet you, Mikayla. What do you do?” Sarah said.
“I am a lawyer at the same firm as Geoffrey,” Mikayla said.
“So, you are also a successful lawyer then?” Sarah said in admiration.
“Yes. I will soon be a partner at the firm?” Mikayla replied.
“Oh wow, I am so impressed,” Sarah replied.
“And I am so jealous of your beauty. You must be a model. Let’s get a bottle of rose and share our stories.” Mikayla replied.
“I would love to,” Sarah replied and followed her to the bar.

Watching how the beautiful women immediately hit it off, I had an ominous feeling that this would be an afternoon to forget, and another story for Martin’s collection.

***

“Where did Sarah go?”

I looked at Martin who approached me with a jug of the cheapest mid-strength beer in the establishment. Clearly, he wasn’t trying to impress others with his non-existent wealth.

“Wait, I thought they were with you. Where did you go?” I asked.
“Oh, you know how things go. I got sleepy and I wanted a coffee. But I didn’t want to pay for the coffee. So, I put ten dollars in the poker machine to receive a free coffee.” Martin rambled.
“So, you spent ten dollars to get a ‘free’ coffee. That doesn’t answer the important question. Where did the girls go?” I asked.
“Girls? Were there more than one?” Martin asked in confusion.

I sighed. I had set myself up to a classic problem in my life. Effectively, I only have two modes of dating:

Either I would date no-one at all, which yields no positive results, or I would date many at once, and mix them up, which has a similar outcome.

When I set up the date with Mikayla, I must have forgotten that I had already asked Martin to bring Sarah here. What a mess.

Martin handed me his phone. There was a text message from Sarah. “Hi, Martin. Thank you so much for bringing me to the gay bar. I met up with Geoffrey’s colleague Mikayla and we are hitting it off. I am so happy that you enabled me to meet such an amazing woman. I promise to read and review all your books to make it up to you. XOXO Sarah.”

I handed Martin the phone and sighed. Martin smiled and spoke: “Wow that was an unexpected outcome. Well, at least I found a reader for my books. Let’s drink some beer and watch a soccer match on TV.”
“I am not sure. I might go home instead.” I replied.
“Nah, save that for later, mate. On the bright side, at least you won’t need to get tested for STD this time.” Martin stated.

Martin was right; life could be worse.

“Cheers to not needing STD-testing!” I said and raised my beer.
“Cheers to that!” Martin replied.

After that, we spent a few hours discussing dodgy refereeing calls and Martin’s conspiracy theories before I went home for my much-anticipated porn website visit.