Amie and I have been somewhat separated in the last few months due
(as previously mentioned) to me travelling the world and Amie’s blooming
career. So it was only right that I went to stay with her this weekend for a
much needed reunion. As we are partners in crime on the dating scene, this
reunion wouldn’t have been complete without a clear mission in mind – namely to
meet and (without sounding like a psychopath) ensnare a man.
The night started off well: we’d had some gin and tonics, I was
wearing some faux leather trousers which I wasn’t quite sure about but
eventually decided I could pull-off, and after a bit of x-factor accompanied
pre-drinks we were ready to begin our night on the town.
We began our mission in a busy wine bar where
I couldn't help noticing that a very tall, dark and muscular man was
working on the door. Being in a city where a) I didn’t know anyone, and b) was
showcasing my new lady-in-(fake)-leather look, I was determined to see if the
situation could go any further. (Further than him opening the bar door and
letting me through that is). I toyed with the idea of asking him outright
if he was single, but decided against it for fear of sounding just a bit too keen. Suddenly I had a brainwave of magnanimous
proportions: one of the waitresses was bound to know whether or not he was
unattached, which would save me the embarrassment of trying to find out from
him myself. I grabbed the attention of the girl clearing the table next to us.
‘Hi, sorry to bother you but I was just wondering if you
know if the bouncer on the door is seeing anyone?’ I asked, inwardly
congratulating myself at having such an excellent idea.
‘Erm, it’s a bit complicated actually,’ she replied. This didn’t
put me off – I wasn’t planning on marrying the guy.
‘Because,’ she continued, ‘the two of us have actually been seeing
each other for a while.’
My face dropped in horror – of all the waitresses I could have
asked, I had to ask the one who was his girlfriend. I began apologising
profusely, at which she assured me that ‘things were a bit up in the air’ and
that she’d actually ‘been in touch with her ex’ recently. We then bonded a bit
by chatting about how gorgeous he was, at which point she urged me to pursue
him, but with probably a 99% chance of rejection I thought I’d give it a
miss.
So, with that embarrassing and oddly convivial incident behind us we moved
on to a different bar. And that’s where we ended up buying more drinks, doing some more dancing, and for
the life of us could not remember the next morning how we got chatting to two
charming Mediterranean men, and bringing them home with us for pizza, wine and um... a sleepover.
Apparently the old fashioned approach of meeting in a bar is not
so difficult after all. Once you’ve had a couple of glasses of vino that is.
x
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