Yesterday I went on a date with an Irish man. I say he is Irish because he is from Ireland, and I say he is a man because he is eight years older than me. As I have discovered though, you're never too old to make a dead baby joke.
He is in Canada on business. Because he has a job- a real job, like the kind that people get an annual income from. Also he is provided with a company car when he is away on business- which is sometimes in Singapore, casually. The company in question is Rolls-Royce, by the by. So part of me feels like I need to hold out on this thing until I get picked up in a Rolls-Royce.
For real though, I'd say the ball is in his Rolls-Royce court after I proved to be utterly incompetent at trivia night. And also made a jokes about stool by accident.
Stay tuned for the future or not future of my Irish sugar daddy/ chauffeur.
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