21 Double Dutch

I've got a girlfriend...

What? I was confused. I re-read the text that I'd just received from Mr Lekker.

The word 'girlfriend' was jumping out at me. Which would be ok if it was following the words 'do you want to be my...'. Instead this was featuring in a sentence that I really didn't want to be seeing. Nor should I be, because I distinctly remembered asking if he was in a relationship and the answer was definitely in the form of a negative.

...I'm really sorry that I lied to you...

Good, at least I wasn't losing my mind. I had asked him.

...I was having such a good time and I didn't want it to end...

Er, this isn't a trip to the fairground we are talking about Mr Lekker.

I jest, but in reality I was absolutely gutted. I felt sick.

For a start it seemed incredibly unfair. I'd been single for...ooh...cough...a while, and felt that I'd been pretty patient. Did Cupid think it would be a good joke to introduce me to someone that well and truly floated my boat, but someone that was already playing port and starboard with someone else?

As well as that, I was annoyed at the fact that I had suddenly become the 'other woman.' That's not a game I ever wanted to play. Apart from all the usual reasons, I believe that I deserve better than being 3rd place in someone's life (in my opinion these men tend to put themselves 1st, and their partners 2nd.)

I would like to say that at this point I just deleted this text, along with his number and carried on with my life. That's not what happened though (of course if you would prefer to think that is what I did do, then please stop reading now and just avoid any post with anything Dutch-related in the title and you will be none the wiser.) No, the rest of his text was so lovely (damn him and his talent for texting!)that I felt compelled to phone him.

There followed a deep and meaningful conversation where we said how strongly we felt about each other. And ended in us deciding to meet up again.

I know, I know! I'm not sure either how in the space of a morning I'd changed from being someone with morals, to Monica Lewinsky.

The chemistry between us had been almost palpable though, and surely if things were that great between him and his girlfriend he wouldn't be calling me most evenings to say goodnight?

The chats and texts continued as normal. We planned when to meet and started discussing where. England or Holland? (Or somewhere neutral like Switzerland?!) I sent him a text about flights I'd seen.

I didn't get a reply. Weird. That wasn't like him at all. Maybe he hadn't received it?

I sent it again. Still no reply.

I sent a different text. Silence.

My male friends often tell me tales of 'psycho' girls that text them repeatedly and just won't take the hint that they aren't interested in them. I nod and agree that these particular women do sound a bit unstable and I assure them that we aren't all like that. Writing this though I realise I was, albeit for a very brief time, one of those girls!!!!

Of course it all could have been avoided if I'd received a message, something along the lines of...

Hey Rapunzel, great meeting you but by the way I've decided not to contact you again.

Fine - at least I'd know where I stood. No such text arrived though so I presumed that Mr Lekker must have lost his phone. Or be in hospital. Or dead. Cause he wouldn't just stop contacting the girl that he said he was falling for would he?

Of course he flipping would! And thankfully I eventually saw the light myself. Not before sending a few 'Loopy Lou' texts unfortunately but hey, I was emotional.

A Dutch friend suggested that I sell my story over there. I decided against it. Mr Lekker may be famous but he isn't exactly Tiger Woods. Plus my 'kiss and tell' would literally be just that - there was no horizontal fun to speak about. I'd be lucky if anyone would pay enough for a portion of frites and mayo for my non-juicy gossip. Also I'm really not that kind of a girl. I'd never dream of telling stories to a load of people about my personal life.

So life continued. I managed to wean myself off watching Mr Lekker on t'internet. I'd practically forgotten he even existed.

Until months and months later my phone rang from a Dutch number. A Dutch number I vaguely recognised...

I couldn't believe it! I also couldn't hear him. I was in Scotland visiting the parents, in the home of crap phone reception.

I tried everything. Moving to different rooms. Hanging out windows. Apart from the odd word, I had no idea what he was saying. I hung up. In a strop.

Then a text came through...

I'm in Scotland. Are you? Can we meet?

Yes, and hell yes!

Obviously I didn't write that. I played it a bit cool. Inside my stomach was churning though. I couldn't believe that I was going to see Mr Lekker again!

20 Going Dutch

Have you ever experienced love at first sight?

I have. Well a definite 'Woo hoo look at you!' at first sight anyway. (Of course if I'd ended up married to said crush, then naturally the story would become a tale of how I just knew he was The One the moment I clapped eyes on him.)

Whatever you want to call it though, I definitely believed that I'd been destined to meet the guy in question.

For a start, I shouldn't have even been there that night.

I'd been spending a few days at the Edinburgh Festival with my cousin Paris (of course that's not her real name - we aren't that sort of a family. It'll teach her though, for putting her number in my phone under Ooh La La which was very embarrassing when she'd call me when I was in company and my phone would announce who was ringing. Anyway, I digress...) It was our last evening so we'd decided to make the most of it by seeing a show.

Unfortunately, Lady Luck wasn't on our side and everything we attempted to get tickets for had sold out. So after traipsing all over Edinburgh, we decided to rest our weary legs and sit and assess our options. In the nearest pub.

Paris ordered us drinks while I nipped to the loo. Still feeling exhausted, I opted for using the disabled toilet on the ground floor, as opposed to climbing the stairs up to the ladies. It was a decision that was to change my life forever, because when I came out, there he was...

Mr Lekker.

Mr Lekker from Holland (hence my use of a Dutch term). He called me over to where he was standing with two friends. So I went (proof that destiny was influencing me, as I'm not normally so obedient when it comes to men.)

I told him that I used to live in Holland (see? Definite destiny.) He asked me if I spoke the lingo.

I replied in the positive and added 'neuken in de keuken' as proof.

He laughed.

Whether that was because he thought I was funny, (it translates as 'sex in the kitchen' so works waaay better in Dutch than in English) or whether he was laughing at my pronunciation, I never found out. Regardless of why, it worked a treat because when I invited him and his friends to join us, he accepted!

And so began an amazing evening. When I asked Paris later, for her honest opinion of Mr Lekker she replied that as he'd spent the night attached to my face she'd never actually seen him.

Obviously she exaggerates. For a start I'm not a teenager anymore so wouldn't just abandon a friend to snog a boy, at least not without checking she was ok first (and fortunately for me, Mr Lekker's friends were great company so Paris was fine..!)

We were pretty obsessed with each other though. It was as if no-one else was in the room. We couldn't stop staring at each other and trying to find out as much as we could about one another.

I discovered that he was a comedian (funny - tick! Good with words - tick!) Single (tick!), older than me (tick!)

In fact the only box I couldn't check was for the fact he lived in Holland, while I lived miles away in Manchester. I decided it didn't matter too much though. I mean I used to live there, so had an affinity with all things Netherlands. It just felt very unfair that I hadn't met him then.

Love conquers all anyway doesn't it? So it would be difficult, but not impossible.

I realise now that it was a bit premature to be thinking along these lines, but I was seriously smitten. And the best bit was, he seemed to feel the same.

I bemoaned when we had to say our goodbyes. But when I received a text from him shortly after, saying that meeting me had made his trip, I felt sure that we were at the beginning of something and not the end.

Naturally I googled him at the first opportunity.

Turns out Mr Lekker was pretty famous. He was certainly more successful than he'd let on. This was an added bonus as it meant that there were a lot of clips of him doing stand-up on Youtube. Therefore even though we were separated by miles, I could still see him every day.

OK, I couldn't actually understand him, as contrary to what I said earlier in the post, I can't speak Dutch aside from talking about kitchen sex and muttering a few profanities. You'd think I'd be able to, what with being Scottish and having no problems saying guttural words like 'loch', but unfortunately there is a bit more to Dutch than that. I vowed to start learning though in order to speak to my new man.

Not that it really mattered, as Mr Lekker's English was so good. I was slightly apprehensive about our first phone call, not being face-to-face and unable to suss out body language, but there was no need. Even if there had been difficulties, his texts would have made up for it.

Ah yes, his texts. They were seriously unbelievable.

Obviously I think I'm not too bad with words and quite a good texter, but with him I'd met my match.

I mean what was I supposed to reply to the following..?

When I think of the two of us alone in a room together, I feel kind of feverish, in my head, my skin, my muscles...

Somehow,...Thanks!... just didn't seem to cut it.

Neither did...Funny, I was just saying the same about you earlier...

I thought I'd met my ideal man - funny, intelligent, good-looking and someone that gives good text.

That's until the morning my phone beeped with a message that changed everything...