I recently ventured to the West End of London, in the hope of a relaxed evening with friends. The plan was to meet up at a public house for 6pm and then take in the (now defunct) Spamalot musical at the Palace Theatre next door.
I arrived at the pub location rather early… around 1 hour 20 minutes early to be precise. But I knew it was highly likely that one or two of my friends might show up just after 5pm…
I sat down with my alcoholic beverage and a view to entertain myself with the aid of my iPhone (a portable device that gets me out of awkward social situations and makes it appear that I do indeed have friends when I’m drinking alone). No sooner had I sat down a woman materialized out of nowhere and asked if she could join me while she waited for friends (who would allegedly show up at 5pm). Fair enough, I thought. I’m sure I can take 20 minutes of tedious small talk.
The woman was of Kiwi origin and possibly in her mid to late thirties. I didn’t find her remotely attractive as she reminded me of a rather stern, drunk headmistress.
Our conversation seemed quite normal at first, though when 5pm came and went I thought I’d ask exactly whom she was waiting for and what time they may be arriving. It transpired that she’d been waiting for a man – for three hours. And had evidentially been drinking for the duration…
Whether or not this man was of fictional origin or not, he was a wise man for failing to show up – albeit at my own expense.
What followed was the most uncomfortable hour of my life. Not since a doctor examined my testis had I felt so unnerved.
The woman (who shall henceforth be known as ‘Susan’) started to touch my arm in a flirtatious manner, and then upon realizing I had red hair demanded to touch it. I recoiled slightly in horror, so she told me to stop being so ‘uptight’ and that I should relax.
Susan asked why I appeared to be so jumpy, nervous and distracted, as I kept glancing at my phone and looking at every face that walked through the door. I explained that I was just looking out for my friends, who would show up at ‘any minute’…
But events would soon take a turn for the worse…
After ascertaining that I didn’t have a girlfriend, She asked me if I had a ‘Honey bee’ (meaning a girl who I was attracted to). I said YES. A harem in fact.
She said that I should ‘go for it’ and that I should stop being so shy and nervous. “After all these years you still don’t get it do you?” she mumbled. Which was a rather odd thing to say if you ask me, considering I’d just met the woman.
It was at this point she asked; “You have testicles don’t you?”
I nodded with a mixture of confirmation and sheer astonishment.
Then she asked me back to her place.
I declined, without any kind of hesitation.
“Oh, I don’t mean for that!” she quickly responded. “We can just chill out, relax…”
The following moments felt like an eon. Susan asked if I wanted a beer, to which I politely declined. Upon her departure to the bar I received a text message from Mr Nick Grover, who was one of my party. “Will be 40-45 minutes late” read the message. By this point the fire exit or even an open window was looking mighty tempting, but then I turned to find my new-found crazy drunk friend had fallen to her knees while carrying two pints back to our table.
A gentleman would have helped her to her feet, so fortunately for her there was one nearby. I remained seated, being more concerned as to why she was carrying two pints when I made it distinctly clear that I didn’t want a drink.
Susan sat back down at the table, when an unknown woman approached to congratulate her for falling over without actually spilling any beer. At this point I wished that I’d mastered powers of ESP, as my eyes were crying out ‘Help… me’.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse she said “I’m really so glad I met you. I mean really glad. You’re such a lovely man. Really nice”
“Thanks for saying so” I replied, as I reached for my phone.
“You’re gorgeous. I just want to give you a big squeeze”
“Riighht” I squirmed…
“Come and sit next to me” she whispered. “I want a cuddle”
“No, I’m alright thanks” as I calmly tapped out a text message to my friend Jess…
“Are you close by? I’m FREAKING… “
And at that moment Jess entered the room like a ray of sunshine. I don’t recall ever being so pleased to see someone in my entire life.
Unfortunately Jess assumed that crazy woman was in fact my friend, Danielle.
“NO. This isn’t Danielle.” I informed her. “We’ve just met, I don’t know her”
At this point my friends began to trickle through the doors, as I explained to each one in turn that I was not in any way associated with the intoxicated bunny boiler.
It took a fair while, but after insulting one of my friends, sarcasticly applauding me and spilling more beer down her midriff, the crazy Kiwi upped and vanished into the night…
Tuesday 13 January 2009
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You are a legend. I hate waiting for ppl and try my best to avoid being the first person to a meeting spot. Top points to you for showing such restraint.
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