Oh Mr Ferrari. Who would have ever thought that I would bag a date with a multi-millionaire?
We started talking around the Christmas period whilst I was in the UK on holiday. His profile was ok. He looked suave and good looking in his photos although not my usual type. Kiwi / Indian, successful, self-made millionaire. I was actually wondering why he’d be interested in someone like me.
I mean, I can glam myself up and be good arm candy at my best but I’m a hippie at heart. Material stuff doesn’t particularly interest me however Mr Ferrari caught my eye. And not because I’d stalked him on Google and seen his Ferrari. I’m not that shallow. I was intrigued by his story. Interested to find out why on earth he was still single at 42 and I also wanted to know what going on a date with a 42 year old would be like.
He kept in touch well while I was away. Not like the Shady Solicitor who was love bombing me all day. He just touched base and checked in. I liked it. On the day of the flight he wished me a safe flight and the day after I returned home he welcomed me back and invited me out for drinks.
I was tempted but still too jet-lagged so declined. I immediately regretted it and thought, ‘oh no, what if this is my one and only chance to date a multi-millionaire and I’ve blown it?’ So I text him back and said: Look I can’t make it tonight but would still love to see you. You’re not around this weekend are you?
And as luck would have it. He replied: I’m free tomorrow evening. Let’s do cocktails and live music. But I’m not sure what I’ll do if you cancel on me again.
Well, I’d only cancelled him once so I’m sure giving someone one more chance, especially when they’ve just got off a 24 hour flight is ok.
I allowed Mr Ferrari to plan the date. I do love it when I don’t have to think and plan. Most of my job is thinking and planning so in my social life it’s lovely for somebody else to take the reins sometimes.
He told me to meet him at the Hilton for our cocktails. There would be live music. He also told me to bring my dancing shoes. This was going to be fun.
I arrived at the bar 5 minutes late but sadly no sign of him. There was live music, a lady singing with an acoustic guitar… very quietly. It wasn’t really dancing music but still pleasant nonetheless. There weren’t any tables left and I didn’t know whether to just perch at the bar.
I decided to text him. He told me he was running a few minutes late but but let me know he was on his way. I hate it when men are late for dates. I particularly hate it when men are late for dates and they haven’t warned me they are going to be late for the date. Bad etiquette. He told me to take a look at the cocktail menu and choose what I wanted.
Looking at this menu felt like an eternity and the drinks were so expensive I felt awkward. I knew I didn’t have to worry about the cost because he invited me here and he could obviously afford it but I still felt strange.
Mr Ferrari finally arrived. He looked just as suave as in his photos. A suit with a white shirt underneath, sparkling eyes and teeth, nice hair, a good accent. I liked him. Phew. He kissed me on the cheek and ordered our drinks. All the bar staff knew his name. He must be a regular.
“Good evening Mr Ferrari, how are you today?”
“I’m very well thank you. It’s a bit busy this evening is there any chance you can find us a table?”
The barman looked perplexed. What was he meant to do? Kick someone off a table because Mr Ferrari had arrived? The barman suggested the same perch I had moments before suggested, at the end of a long table that only had one other elderly couple on it.
We sat down and talked. Conversation was easy and flowing. I loved hearing about how he made his fortune. I loved hearing his story. Thankfully. Luckily it wasn’t all about him. He was good at asking me questions and seemed genuinely interested in me too. There was definitely some chemistry and spark.
He kept his drinking at my pace but we did have 4 drinks there and I hadn’t eaten much. One strange thing I noticed was that when I went to the toilet and he went to the bar to order our next drinks, I noticed him having a shot. How strange that he felt he needed another drink. Oh no not another alcoholic.
We were the last people in the bar and he asked me if I wanted to go dancing. It’s very rare for me to turn down dancing on a weekend night so of course I obliged.
We went to the local, dirty, packed Irish bar. I actually love it there. It gets busy and raucous but the live music is always good and it’s a fun atmosphere.
I offered him a drink. I could afford it at the Irish bar. We just had a beer each. To be honest the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. There was lots of dancing, a few more beers and even a kiss. The kiss wasn’t spectacular but it wasn’t bad either. Thankfully better than the kiss I’d had two nights before with the Shady Solicitor.
Now the next bit is the scary slightly dangerous bit on my part. We left the bar at about 3am and I don’t remember. I also don’t remember getting into a taxi. The next thing I remember that happens is a taxi driver waking me up and I was next to Mr Ferrari outside his house. I didn’t feel shocked or too confused so I can only assume that I’d agreed to go back to his. Mr Ferrari was still sleeping and it took me a couple of attempts to wake him up. He must have been as drink as me.
He told me I had to be quiet because he lived with his parents. I know, another grown man living with his parents! This situation was a little different to the Smoking Accountant though. Mr Ferrari had lived away from home before and he had bought this house for them. He arrived back in Auckland from London a year ago and was happy living with them. Apparently his older sister lived there too.
Again I have a black out moment. The next thing I remember is waking up in his bed fully clothed. He was lying next to me with his boxers on. It wasn’t an entirely undesirable outcome. I quite liked him and I was getting amazing cuddles.
We started kissing, the kisses were improving and we had lots of conversation and laughter. He even started opening up to me about lack of life purpose now he’d made his fortune and suffering from a bit of depression last year. I love it when a man can bare his soul. And with that I felt connected and let him woo me. I’m not going to go into details but this man knew what he was doing. He was all about pleasing the woman and I enjoyed every second of it. Fuck the rules of not sleeping with a man on a first date. I was enjoying myself. I kept saying to myself, will you feel ok if you don’t hear from him again? And the answer was, well that would be a fucked up thing to do, sleep with a woman and not contact her again so he probably will however I’m not sure I’m wanting a relationship with him.
It’s strange I couldn’t put my finger on what was missing. We got on well. He was good looking, amazing in bed, cheeky and charming, rich. Maybe it was a cultural thing. I am by no means racist but I’m just not sure how I’d fit in to an Indian family who all live together? Let alone how they’d feel about me joining their family. On top of this, the aroma of spices that filled the house was nauseating to wake up to with a hangover. It reminded me of when I had deli belly on an 8 hour flight back from Goa to London. I was transported back to that hideous journey.
Anyway, as usual I was rushing ahead. This was a first date and here I was imagining living with him and his family. He’d already mentioned looking at buying a penthouse in the city centre so it would be fine. I could just move into that with him, all my problems would be solved. I’d live happily ever after with him. My instincts were saying no though.
I decided it was time for me to go home. We’d been chatting and having sex for three hours. Don’t worry, his parents didn’t hear us, they’d gone to a funeral so he wouldn’t even need to sneak me out of a window or anything like that afterwards.
Mr Ferrari offered to drive me home. In his Ferrari . This was to be a huge treat so I jumped at the offer. If only I wasn’t wearing last night’s clothes with mascara smeared down my cheeks and scarecrow hair looking like I’d been fucking a millionaire all night. Oh well, let people judge I thought.
I splashed some water on my face and tried to smooth my hair.
The shiny black beast was in his garage and to be honest I don’t get it. Why anybody would buy a car the price of a small house (well a garden shed in Auckland) is beyond me. But this was one to tick off the bucket list and I knew it would make a good story to tell the grand kids too (oops, I’m running out of time for them).
I wish he’d have opened the door for me. Of course I opened it and it hit the clothes horse. Gently though. Why on earth would a millionaire have a clothes horse next to a Ferrari?
“Watch the door,” he said.
“Oops, sorry” I laughed nervously. I’m sure I was now visibly shaking.
And what do you know. I did it again! I hit the door on the clothes horse again! Oh I hoped there weren’t any marks. I spotted him cringing. I felt like that character in the old British comedy ‘One Foot in the Grave’ who whenever she goes round to the rich lady’s immaculate house, she picks up her tea cup of tea and starts shaking because she is so scared of spilling it. This was me.
“Oh gosh I’m so sorry, I don’t want to touch anything,” I stuttered. I really didn’t.
“You know the mats. Guess how much they cost?” he asked.
“I don’t know,”
“Four thousand dollars each”
Yep Mr Ferrari wasn’t helping. Now I didn’t even want to put my feet on them. Should I have taken my shoes off before entering the car?
The drive was strange. The car was low and everyone was staring. A number of boy racers would lean out of car windows to take photos. It was all very bizarre.
And then Mr Ferrari started showing off. He wanted to demonstrate the car had power and accelerated it so it went from 70km per hour to 200km per hour weaving in and out of cars on the motorway as if we were on a race track. I had to tell him to slow down. I thought we were going to die. So he did.
We talked about future things we could do together. He spotted a bowling alley quite near mine and said he’d like to go bowling with me. He also said that he wanted to go to my hippie festival with me at the end of February. Hmmm maybe he did want to see me again.
It was quite amusing getting to mine. I live up a dirt gravel track in the middle of a field. Not quite the road for a Ferrari and I had warned him, but he seemed find. He dropped me off and said, “see you soon darling.”
I lay on my bed and laughed about the night and morning I’d just had. What an adventure.
At 6pm I received a text from him asking if I’d recovered from my hangover. A bit of chit chat and all was good. He checked in with me on the Monday and Tuesday too. And then I initiated contact on Wednesday to which he replied. It was the first time I’d ever text him first so I wanted to show a little interest. But no follow up date.
So I gave up. For a week. I endured the silence until I got angry and thought that i should give him a pice of my mind.
Q: I just wanted to say it’s very rude to sleep with a woman and then ghost them. Please don’t do that to the next woman. Have guts be honest, we’re stronger than we look and kind genuine women like myself don’t deserve rudeness!
(Yeah I know a bit of a rant and I felt so much better. I wasn’t expecting a reply… but an hour later)
F: I think that’s a little unfair 😦
1. My dad has been in hospital since last Wednesday and I’ve been completely absorbed with making him get back to 100%
2. It takes two to communicate. You also made no effort since my last message to get to know me
(Oops ok, maybe before the rant I could have said, how are you stranger? All ok? You’ve been quiet. Then if he didn’t reply to that then send the rant. Also made no effort since his last message??? He sent me an emoji of himself on a treadmill. I replied lol)
Q: I’m sorry to hear about your father. I’m not very good on the old texts.
(This is absolute bollocks by the way. I’m great with texts and enjoy text ping pong with the right person)
Q:Hope your dad is on the mend now. If you want to do something some time let me know.
(Yep I bit the bullet and asked him out)
F: I’m heading away tomorrow with the family for a few days. Does mid next week work?
Q: Yes mid next week works well. Have a lovely time with your family. Where are you off to?
(The next day, late afternoon)
F: Coromandel Darling x
(Ok back to kisses and pet names. He then sends me a photo)
Q: Ah very nice. Perfect weather. Enjoy x
I then don’t hear from him again until two days ago. Tuesday.
F: Good start to the week? x
Q: Yeah I’m great thank you. I’m absolutely shattered now though. How was your weekend?
He replies with 8 beautiful photos and says, ‘let me show you’ To which I reply, ‘Ooh where is this?’
He replies with a website link. A day later. I couldn’t even be bothered to reply. So I guess that is that. I’ll just let this one drift. He isn’t keen enough to ask me out and I’m not one to keep pursuing.
I haven’t been on a date for 2 and a half weeks. I had a quiet week and then just couldn’t be bothered. There was Adam the Empath. We had a lovely walk but there really wasn’t enough to say about the date to turn it into a full story. Sweet guy, a little bit in his feminine. Very much interested in the spiritual side of me. Conversation dried up quickly. He had a headache. Made an excuse to leave.
But last weekend someone piqued my interest. The 41 year old Skydiving Traveller. He’s been living overseas skydiving, and before that managing a band, for the last 13 years and had returned home because he wants to finally settle down close to loved ones, find a woman and ideally have a family. An adventurer who loves to travel and wants a family and into music? This one sounds like a bit of me. He’s good looking. Not my usual type looks-wise but very much my personality (by text anyway).
Unfortunately he lives an hour and a half north of me but he will be visiting me for the day on Sunday. I am so excited about this date. We text for ages. He’s funny, intelligent, interesting and I know we will get on. He left me a voice message and has a nice voice but he is another one who is bloody living at his parents’. Because he just got back from living overseas two weeks ago though.
I don’t want to get to excited before meeting the man because this happens a lot to me. But I love the way we had our fist proper conversation on 02/02/2020. What an awesome magical date. We are meeting on a full moon – also magical. And I pulled a tarot card and asked about him – I got the Ace of Cups. Anybody who knows about tarot would know that’s a pretty awesome card so watch this space. I want a summer romance and there’s not much longer left of summer.