A few weeks ago I went to visit a friend of mine up North (I
think Warwickshire is technically the midlands but still, it is north of
London). After a wonderful day out which comprised of stuffing our faces with
chocolate at Cadbury World, (just as fun for adults as it is for children FYI),
we began preparing for our night with the obligatory pre-drinks.
As we sat down to play Ring of Fire (our drinking game of
choice for the evening) my friend’s boyfriend and his friend Aiden walked in to
join us. Before someone had even picked the last card in the ring I knew that I
was going to have a blog entry in the making, because I really fancied Aiden. He was funny, clever, opinionated (without
being arrogant), and he possessed the dark hair, white teeth, and olive skin
combination which I can’t seem to resist.
At the first bar on our itinerary, after purchasing our
drinks, I ensured that I was sitting next to him. We got chatting in more
detail than we’d been able to during the drinking games. I found out that he
was a designer and had actually designed the interior of the bar we were
sitting in (monochrome, minimalist, strange upside down furniture on the
ceiling). By the time we left the second bar we were walking arm in arm (how quaint!).
We kissed in the club and from then on were inseparable for the entire evening.
Two weeks later we arranged to meet for drinks in London, and this is where I
am sorry to say that it all goes so very wrong...
As soon as I stepped off the tube and spotted him standing by the exit, I just knew that my image of Aiden had been dramatically enhanced during our time apart by my optimistic mindset. I’d had two weeks to perfect the image I had of him. Two weeks to reminisce about how well we had got on, how good looking he was, how Warwickshire really wasn’t that far from London...
He was still nice looking, but something about him just
didn’t match up to what I had remembered. Yet despite my initial misgivings I
hadn’t got all dressed up for nothing, and I resolved to keep an open mind.
However, it soon became clear to me that there was one outstanding aspect to
Aiden that just hadn’t struck me when we first met – the volume of his
voice.
Now, I am not
being overly dramatic here. I have some very loud friends (getting told off in
a restaurant type loud), and can be very loud myself sometimes (my laugh has
been known to make my mum jump in fright before). But this was another level. Walking down the street with him I
was sure that everyone within a 100 metre radius could hear our conversation. I
found myself glancing at passersby to see if in fact they could, and ‘thank god we are going to a noisy bar,’ was
all I could think as we passed quiet pubs and intimate bistros on our journey.
As we approached our destination to my horror I saw a queue
stretching out from the door. I cringed at the prospect of having to stand and
make small talk, making it hideously apparent to everyone (and it would be
everyone) in the queue that we were on our first date. I dealt with this by
taking every opportunity to turn around and glance at the bouncers, feigning
extreme interest in how many people they were letting in and by how much the
queue was shortening.
Once inside, Aiden turned into the perfect date – treating
me to a flaming cocktail, being just as easy to talk too as on our first
meeting and even driving me home at the end of the evening, something for which
I was immensely grateful. The bar was packed and very noisy and my self-consciousness
disappeared as soon as we entered. But I just couldn’t get his blaring,
booming, boisterous tones out of my head. I love a good conversation, but not one
with an audience.
x
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