The Club Table

At the Reverse Dinner I went to a few weeks ago, I ended up sitting at a table with a bunch of Magdalene people who matriculated at the same time I did, and ended up exchanging cards with one of the young men in the group. I didn't think much of it at the time, as it's a common thing to exchange info with people at these events, it doesn't really signify anything.

So when he contacted me on Facebook suggesting that we do drinks sometime, I still didn't think much of it, as we'd been talking about how we don't use the O&C enough, so I figured it was simply a convenient excuse to utilize the club more and meet up with another member.

I arrived at 6:45 PM and settled down to wait with my paper. We had agreed to meet at 7 PM, but he didn't arrive until 7:30 PM. I suppose I should have been annoyed, but given that I still figured we were just meeting as friends, I didn't think much of it, but just worked on my sudoku and watched with fascination the crowd gathering. It was a whole gorup of men, all wearing medals on green ribbons around their necks, and even a Roman Catholic priest in traditional black robes with a sash around his middle. (Hard to explain, but if you've ever seen pictures of priests in Rome, that's what he looked like).

Finally, the young man arrived and got us a bottle of white wine, and so I did my best to keep the conversation relaxed and easy, as he was obviously a bit flustered to have arrived so late, and downed quite a bit of wine quite quickly. However, as he relaxed, we got into a fascinating conversation about the times of Henry VIII, how well the television show "The Tudors" reflected the facts of the time, how much you can learn from Wikipedia, and how essential an heir really was at the time, even though it seems ridiculous to us now. Turns out that the young man read history when he was at Magdalene, and focused particularly on the period of Henry VIII, so he was definitely in his comfort zone. I just found it to be interesting, and enjoyed the intellectual discourse.

Finally at around 8 PM, we'd finished our wine, and I suggested that we might try the Club Table for dinner. The Club Table is this large round table in the middle of the Coffee Room, where any member can show up for dinner, and see who else shows up to join them. It has always seemed fairly intimidating to me, but I figured at last with another member for moral support, we should brave it.

I was thankful to have someone else there with me, because I was the only woman at the table (actually not surprising, given that the club is about 80% male), and we ended up talking a lot about the decision to admit women, both to Magdalene and the club. I think it would have been strange if I were just a single girl there on my own, but with a young man with me, it somehow made it okay. So we split some wine, talked to the older members about the history of the club and learned a few tips and tricks, and just really had a lovely, really enjoyable conversation. The only thing was that the young man didn't quite seem to realise that as the man, it was his job to pour the wine, but usually if I sat there long enough with an empty glass, he got the hint. Although I suppose they just don't teach these young men quite like they used to!

Later the young man said to me he was sure it was due to my presence rather than his that everyone seemed so engaging and enthusiastically participating in conversation, but I really felt like everyone was just doing their best to be warm and welcoming to the newbies.

After dinner, we returned to the Morning Room, where I was thinking it was time to switch to water, but then the young man suggested we have whiskey to finish off the meal. I had a very nice Laphroig, and he had something else, and we were joined for a bit by one of the elderly men we'd been sitting with at dinner. After that, the young man got beers for us both, although at this point my head was spinning, so I insisted that he fill our whiskey glasses with water too!

Finally it was past midnight, and I realised that we needed to dash if we were to have any hope of making the last Tube home. We walked giggling and laughing back to the Tube, me holding his arm as we made our way along. (Interesting problem, as we started out correctly, with him on the outside and me walking on his right holding his arm, but it would seem odd to drop his arm and switch sides when we crossed the street, so we just continued on with me walking on the outside).

We got back to the Tube, made it down the escalator for our trains, and then I completely lost my mind.

We were parting, headed in different directions on the Tube, and I'd had such a lovely time, with a great dinner, good whiskey, and the company of such a charming, well-mannered boy. So then instead of just giving him a peck on each cheek (like I should have), I wrapped my arms around him saying, "I've really had a wonderful time tonight."

And then he kissed me.

Not a kiss on each cheek, not a little kiss on the lips, but a full-on make-out session with tongue and everything. Oh dear God, why is kissing boys so much fun?

At the time, these were the things going through my mind: He's taller than I am, looks dashing in a suit, is intelligent, charming, well-mannered, asked me out for drinks instead of being like other frustrating awkard British boys, was great company all evening, and tasted like a perfect mix of sweet and spice with a hint of whiskey.

Here's what I should have been thinking:

HE IS ONLY 25!!!!!!!!!!

We ended up making-out until I could hear my train arriving, at which point I dashed away for my train, giggling as I went.

Only when I finally made it home did I have that, "Dear God, what have I done?" realisation. I'm going to run into this guy at any number of events over the next few weeks, and he's at my club. And he's 25 (or at least as close I can estimate, for if he entered undergrad in 2003, that would make him the same age as my previous ex, who it should be noted is also 25, obviously showing I have no sense when it comes to younger men).

I guess we'll just have to see what happens, as I'm wondering if perhaps that he's thinking the same thing I am, that it was absolutely a moment of madness, brought on by too much whiskey. Although I'm really, really, really starting to think that even if he does seem interested in pursuing something, it might be a good idea, as he seems like a very nice boy and I could do worse to just cool my heels for a while. As I obviously am getting into far too much trouble when left single!

Oh, but kissing boys... So much fun!