Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Romantic mission

Today, I found myself thinking back to a momentous attempt to gain the notice of a beautiful Irish man. He was tall, dark and had the kind of eyes you could get lost in. His appearance coupled with the Irish brogue caused me to make it my mission to spend some quality time in his company. Initial plans went well. He knew my friend so this enabled the conversation to commence. There was mutual flirting. Things took a turn for the downhill when I deemed it necessary to drink many, many drinks. He was drinking too but was either more accomplished than me or else more sensible. I vaguely recall that a group of us went to a party after many pub beverages, though we may have just returned to my friend’s student house. My memory is sketchy on these details. Sadly the vagueness of memory ends there. I recall with surprising clarity that at some latter point in the evening, I had no choice but to stumble towards the bathroom. I wanted to lie down and lie down I did. Upon arrival, I found the bathroom floor moving towards me with a great speed. For some time I lay there, holding onto the floor in a hopeful attempt to stop it from moving. In my minds eye, I can still see the pink carpet and bathroom furniture spinning around my head as if this was a completely normal activity for carpets and bathroom suites. I can only assume that the noise of my collapse or people’s vain attempts to use the toilet caused me to be found in this horizontal position. Much to my absolute delight, I looked up into the beautiful brown eyes of the man I had been trying to attract. He was moving and slightly blurry but it was definitely him. He looked down at me. I looked up at him. Not the kind of eye contact context I’d imagined. He then attempted to pull me into a vertical position (which was the opposite of the position I had wanted him to pull me into). After much fumbling and moaning (and you’ve guessed it, not the type I was hoping for), I was upright, wobbly and clinging onto him for dear life. For some strange reason he found me somewhat less attractive after that event. I just can’t think why…..

By the way - I should point out that I’ve attained some wisdom as the years have passed and now always stop drinking long before I pass out. However I’m still wonderfully skilled at looking ridiculous in front of men to whom I’m attracted. I always make a lasting impression just not always the one intended.

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