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I was chatting to a friend the other day about what I should write next and she suggested I talk about crappy dates. I can’t recall many crappy dates but one story did come to mind. I won’t say it was a date that blew me away but rather a date I blew away….


So we are travelling back to circa 2001, when I used to go clubbing at a place outside of the Hyatt called Monsoons, an R&B club. Not sure if it’s still there but I highly doubt it. I had struck up a friendship with the concierge there. Let’s be honest, I was being friendly so that he could park my car for free, seeing as it was a little silly I was dropping off my Holden Barina to be valet parked every week. He may have seen it as flirting, but I assure you it was not.


His name was “Kirk”, and one day he got the courage to ask me out. Now, I was raised never to be rude and I hated saying no to people so I gave him my number. When he called me, though, I said we should go out in a group “as friends”, and we planned a night out with one of my friends and a few of his. We went to the casino and ended up at Heat nightclub in the small R&B room, with lots of drinking. I’m sure they were just being chivalrous and not trying to get us drunk, right? I’m not a big drinker. I was always the designated driver of the group, and all it took was a few shots of tequila to get me on my merry way. That night, however, I had about six shots of tequila, four Malibu and Cokes, and a champagne…


My crazy Latina friend (at the time), had consumed about four times that amount, and this resulted in her being escorted out – in a wheelchair!!! – for falling asleep on the floor of the toilets. I was mortified, which resulted in me sobering up very quickly. So Kirk, being the gentleman that he was, left the club with me and my friend and we made our way to the taxi rank (via KFC, as per norm). When we were half way there, and thankfully were near the toilets, I began to feel nauseous. I ran for the ladies, with him close behind me to “help”. There was no one else in there and I know you are probably beginning to get a little worried but don’t stress, I was fine. I just want you to visualise this, as I remember every little detail vividly. What happened that night, in that toilet cubicle, was so embarrassing that it has been forever burned into my memory.


Imagine us in a toilet cubicle with the door shut and me standing bent over the bowl (because you would never catch me touching the floor or the toilet in any public place). Kirk, a not very tall guy, with a slender build and shaved head, of African descent, was standing/bending over behind me, holding my hair with one hand and rubbing my back with the other. Now, his crotch was on my butt, right… and I was being sick… and he was being lovely, rubbing my back, saying in a gentle tone “Just let it out, just let it out”…. and then… I let it out alright!!!! Mid-hurl, with the pressure of my convulsion, I FARTED!!!!! Not a sweet, little girl fart. I’m talking a ‘if you were in the vicinity you would think there was an earthquake and the walls were going to come crashing down’ type of fart, that went for at least five seconds. Count it out. Five seconds is a long time to be farting on some poor guy’s crotch region. I mean, even as I type this, fifteen years later, I am blushing and cringing. The poor guy didn’t even break tempo. He kept rubbing my back as I was blubbering how sorry I was and he kept saying “It’s ok, just let it out, just let it out”.


The next day, as I remembered the events of the night, I was 100% sure/hoping I would never hear from him again… BUT he was so blown away (pun intended) by the previous night he was ringing to see me again. So, I went on the date, as I felt obligated, and hoped that he wouldn’t bring up the fart. He didn’t, THANK GOD, but he did profess he was “falling for me”… Seriously? I couldn’t believe it. I had to be honest with him and tell him….I was leaving the country so I didn’t want to start anything.


I wasn’t leaving the country, and I definitely WAS NOT ever going to the Hyatt again. This was the story of Kirk. The most memorable date of my life. (Sorry hubby)


Thanks for reading. Love you all.- Zoe xoxo