Random text messages in January (or any time of year, frankly) from men you haven't heard from in months or in some cases years mean only one thing: He has split up with his girlfriend and is casting about for something to do and someone to do it with. This year I figured: Oh, hell, I'm in the same position, so I might as well answer.
Which is how I came to find myself sitting in a piano bar in South Kensington at 9 pm last night, listening to G. – who I met at a party in the pre-BN2 era – tell of dumping his girlfriend on Boxing Day. Note to the male species: This is not good first-date talk. Nor is saying that the relationship is "not irretrievable, but I'm not sure I want to retrieve it." Hello dude, are you going to wait until I go to the bathroom to drunken text her, or are you going to do it right now? G. also proceeded to talk about his hatred of "east London," an area which to him includes my neighbourhood, and his accent snobbery. (He isn't remotely posh and his own accent actually grated on me.) He also oh-so-graciously pointed out how fast I drink. (I'd like to claim it was my desperation to get out of there, but I do drink fast, whether it's water or wine.)
On the plus side, he paid for the drinks.
And, um... he thinks I look a little like Katie Holmes. (I actually don't think he said this to flatter me, since he said it after I told him he looked a bit like a much thinner version of Seth Rogen – a description he found enormously insulting and kept picking at. Honestly, if I'd liked him more and cared more I'd have pointed out that actually, I find funny dead sexy.)
***
1. Did 5 Sun Salutations, leg exercises, 35 pushups (but not the crunches – will have to double up on those tomorrow.)
2. Gratitude list: 1. Looks like I may be getting a four-month contract with a magazine to do daily items for their web site. Yay for being able to pay the rent. 2. By some miracle did not go into dangerous overdraft despite unplanned extra days in the US. 3. Undergarment I forgot to pack in my gym bag was not as essential as I thought. (Yes, I'm being deliberately mysterious and grasping at straws here.)
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Coming up with the three things are HARD aren't they? Unless you're Pollyanna presumably.
ReplyDeletePersonally I would have stuck in the Katie Holmes thing and the fact that you didn't fancy that utter pillock so weren't cast down by his 'charming chat'. Bf's best friend once told him (not me - which is just as well as I would have cried/fainted/both) that he thought I looked like Reese Witherspoon. I was so excited I briefly considered going blonde. And marrying Jake Gyllenhal (obviously learning to spell his surname at the same time). I may still consider Jake if he prefers the auburn version of Reese and plays his cards right....
love
Peridot x
PS I am - painfully - aware that I look NOTHING like Reese Witherspoon
Drinks with the Loser do not sound like fun! Perhaps not one to be included into your "new" London repertoire!!
ReplyDeleteAh well, you win some, you lose some.
Well done on the magazine gig too.
Lesley x