After having to go into the office to conduct interviews in the morning, I went home at 2 PM to get ready, and also just because I didn't feel like being in the office anymore. I was proud of myself, for instead of delaying and rushing at the last minute as I have so often, I insisted on getting ready early, and hence was quite relaxed and ready to go by the time it was time to leave. As well, I have to say being relaxed and having the extra time paid off, as despite a week of practice hairstyles that never turned out quite right, this one night my hair actually looked how I wanted it to look. I just did a slight pouf in the front, and then spiral curls all around. Kind of sweet and romantic (just the look for a Valentine's dinner, don't you think?)
I wore a lavendar satin dress with a cream coloured fuzzy shrug over it. I worried a bit as I went out that I was perhaps over-dressed for the evening (dress code was only jacket and tie), but I think I'd always rather be over-dressed than under-dressed.
When I got to the station and was approaching the club, I ran into another girl who was looking for it. Turns out that she's also an O&C member, but for reasons I couldn't quite specify, I found her to be incredibly annoying. I'm not sure if it was that she was tremendously under-dressed, that she hadn't bothered to look up directions, or that she just gave off a vibe of being tremendously clingy. I'm not sure if I was rude to ditch her pretty much as soon as we arrived, but something about that girl just bothered me, in that everything she said managed to rub me the wrong way. I wonder why, just as there are people we like from the start, there are people we also don't like, right away?
Once at the club, it was pretty easy to break away, as I spotted three chaps I knew, who here we shall refer to as the Inter-Club Chair, the Old Boyfriend, and the Italian Guy. (Yes, same Italian Guy from the Burns Night Supper at the Caledonian last month). I refer to the Old Boyfriend by that name, as I had met him when he was part of a couple, dating a lovely French girl, Caroline. I had begun to suspect that something was not quite right after Caroline showed up alone to the Burns Night Supper, and now I had my confirmation when I overheard Bryan say that he and Caroline had broken up. He told me that he had just been in "hibernation" since the new year, but perhaps I can't wonder if that's just a euphamism for "licking your wounds". The Old Boyfriend is the one I'm standing with in the photo.
I sat down at dinner, to discover that obviously someone had made a mistake with the seating plans, and I found myself seated in-between two girls. Argh, people, the "Miss" in front of my name is supposed to clue you in. Next time, I am definitely signing up using my middle name! ("Elizabeth", it usually clears things up pretty quickly).
As though that weren't fun enough, I found myself seated next to the girl from the O&C who had been annoying me so much on the way in. At first I wondered if I might escape that torture, as when they announced it was time to be seated for dinner, she was nowhere to be seen. So we all sat, they distributed plates for the first course, and she wasn't there, so the waitstaff removed her plate, and were probably about to remove the place setting when she suddenly showed up. Which makes me wonder, in addition to showing up to an event tremendously under-dressed, who dissappears for 10 minutes right when everybody is being seated? It made no sense to me.
So I found myself across from the Old Boyfriend and a girl who was a member of the Farmer's Club, so we had a nice little chat, but I spent much of the time very bored, and thinking dinner would be torture if I had to stay this way.
However, when it came time to change courses, the girl who was the member of the Farmer's Club pointed out that there were three men sitting together further down the table, and suggested I get up and move and insert myself into one of the men's places, to restore the boy-girl-boy-girl equilibrium.
So I changed seats, and instantly things got MUCH better. As we changed, I found myself seated next to a young man who I really just seemed to click with. Since we talked about how he feels he's an unusual Brit, to be very outgoing and have lived in the US, we'll call him "The Non-Brit". We talked about living in Houston and needing a car to cross the street, working in management consulting (that's why he used to travel so much), and how different it is to work on the business side of things (he now works at JP Morgan), and just funny stories from here and there. We even talked about how frustrating I find it to date British men, as I just don't understand the little cultural signals. About how you can chat all evening to someone, and really like them, and then they don't ask for your number at the end or ask you out on a date. He laughed and told me that was so true, that it's the classic British reserve. He was stating that it was probably why they had called this dinner a "Flirty Valentine's Rotational Dinner", as a reminder to the British people that it's okay to be a bit more outgoing and flirt with people!
Too soon, our existing course was over, and it was time for everyone to move again. This time I found myself sitting next to an Architect from the Oriental Club, an old Harrovian. (Eton and Harrow are two of the most traditional schools in England, and the biggest rivals. Hence, once you're talking to an old Etonian or an old Harrovian, you're talking to the poshest of the posh). Conversation was really struggling with us, so I tried to incorporate the guy sitting across from me, who turned out to be a member of White's, among other clubs. (Prince William is a member of White's, probably considered to be the most traditional and prestigious of all London clubs. Still all-male, nobody really knows how you get in, but basically most members are still from the nobility).
Still, we seemed to struggle for chat, until I noticed that the White's Member was wearing a polo mallet bracelet on his wrist. (Lots of polo players wear them, as they look like a silver polo mallet that has been bent into a curve to form a bracelet). So I exclaimed, "Oh, do you play polo?"
From that point on, we talked much more easily, as it was revealed that we had both been to La Mariposa in Argentina, talking about Mariano and the various places we played in England. Very funny how, once we had established our mutual connection, conversation flowed much more readily! Probably it helped too that after leaving me languishing with an empty wine glass for ages, I finally managed to catch the eye of the one member of the serving staff who seemed to be doing his job, and he quickly walked over and finally filled my glass. Really though, the serving staff at this place made me appreciate the O&C that much more!
Finally the dinner was over, and we moved onto the bar. I ran into the Non-Brit, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that despite the fact that I was wearing high-heeled stilletos, he still towered over me, he was so tall. Far too often I've had the experience of talking to a lovely chap at dinner, only to stand up and realise they are much shorter than I am. So how nice to discover a charming and handsome man who is tall as well! He pointed out that my fuzzy white shrug had been shedding on him, as he now had white fuzz all over his jacket on his right arm (he had been seated to my left). Oh dear!
And this is one of those moments where later on, I try to recalculate how one chance event changed the whole evening. The Non-Brit was at the bar, but buying drinks for a group. He offered to get me one, but the White's Member had already offered to buy me a glass of red wine, so I was kind of stuck with the White's Member for a bit. And then somehow, he just drifted away, and I never got a chance to talk to him. Dammit!
Still, I escaped the White's Member by talking to the chap who had been on my other side at dinner, who I had ignored in favour of talking to the Non-Brit. I apologized for my rudeness in that regard, and then found out that he was also an absolute delight in conversation. Turns out that he's actually a member of the Farmer's Club, and works specifically on negotiations between farmers and supermarkets, in getting their produce to market. It was actually really interesting, and I found that although he was a bit overweight, he still was quite handsome and charming. Yet, while we were enjoying our conversation together, I found that the darn girl from the O&C was standing awkwardly near us trying to break into the conversation, until one had to turn and include her, lest we appear completely rude. (As it was, I probably also was a bit rude to not include her sooner). But annoying, nonetheless.
After a bit, The Farmer suggested that we take a breath of fresh air out on the balcony, and a friend of his from Cornwall joined us. It was freezing out there, but I have to admit a lovely view out over the Thames and the London Eye.
As we were standing there, a few other people came out and joined us, and this quite handsome man named Sam came out and suddenly started stroking my sweater. Saying he'd been looking at it all evening and was wondering if it was as soft as it looked. I didn't quite mind because he looked rather like a young Val Kilmer, but you have to imagine how strange it was to have a man not even introduce himself, but suddenly start stroking your arms. Only after he'd been doing that for a bit did he seem to suddenly realise what he was doing and say, "Oh, I suppose this is a bit weird, isn't it?" I giggled, but I have to admit it was all rather surreal. I suppose some people had quite a bit more wine than I did at dinner!
Back at the bar, I got stuck into a few other conversations, although none that I really wanted, with the Non-Brit. I spotted him at one point, but he was already talking to two girls, and it just seemed like it would have been weird to just try to break in. (Given of course how much I was displeased with the O&C girl breaking into my conversation earlier).
Finally, towards the end of the night, I still hadn't been able to get a chance to talk to the Non-Brit, when he found me and said that he was leaving. We chatted for just a bit before he gave me a kiss on each cheek and said, "This has been lovely." Wait, seriously? We had this conversation! He's not a member of any club, he'd just come as the guest of a friend, so I've got no idea if or when I will see him again. And so with no request for any information on me, then he was gone. Why on earth don't British men ask girls out?
I consoled myself with the knowledge that he'd been trying to catch a train, as was The Farmer who I similarly thanked later for lovely conversation as well. Having to go all of the way back to far-flung locations outside of London? Yes, perhaps it never would have really worked anyway. But then again, if he works in this city... Perhaps I'm just once again right to wonder what on earth went wrong there, and if I will ever understand British men...
At this point, the Old Boyfriend then announced that a group was going to the RAC, so I joined them and we had a nice little group of eight at the RAC. In order to keep things simple, they just ordered champagne for everyone, and we all chatted and had a nice time.
Then however, a bunch more people who had been at the event at the Farmer's Club showed up at the RAC. And apparently the RAC is very strict about it's members, in that they will only accept payment by club card at the bar (hence, not everyone can just come get a drink), and you're even supposed to show your membership card when you come in. And it was a bit awkward for the Old Boyfriend and the Inter-Club Chair (the RAC members who had invited us), because they certainly couldn't pay for this large crowd! (Didn't help either that the crowd was quite tipsy, making us wonder how on earth people had gotten so drunk off of just the wine at dinner). In the end, they managed to convince the bar men to accept money from these people, so it worked out okay in the end.
I then spent most of my time talking to this girl who was a veterinarian, along with the Old Boyfriend and the Inter-Club Chair. And it was sort of embarassing, because she was incredibly under-dressed, and also obviously quite tipsy, and hence rambling in conversation. She just kept talking and talking without making much sense or a point, leaving the Old Boyfriend, the Inter-Club Chair and myself all staring at each other, not wanting to be rude and interrupt her, but unsure of quite what to do. It's really just one of those carndinal rules in life, that while you may enjoy good wine and champagne, one should exercise caution never to become drunker than the people you are with, because then it's just mortifying for everyone involved.
The White's Member, seeing that the evening was winding down, suggested that we all go out to Mahiki, which I guess instantly alerted me to our differences. It was 1:30 AM, and I was tired, and had no desire to go stand on line and pay a £20 cover charge to an over-priced nightclub where the paparazzi hang out. Luckily, most everyone seemed to agree with my assessment, and people started petering out.
Finally, I ended up talking to a Scottish guy I'd met at the Caledonian club ages ago. He was rather short and somewhat strange looking, but I was pretty quickly clued in to the fact that this was someone important to know, as he seemed to know so many people, was taking so many pictures, and was the self-described "Inter-Club group gossip." Obviously an insider worth knowing. So although I was once again berating myself for forgetting to bring my business cards, when he offered to look me up on Facebook, I scribbled my name down on a piece of paper to make sure he had the correct spelling of my name. (How low-end though, scribbling on a scrap of paper! Will never forget my cards again!) Indeed, he contacted me the next day, saying how lovely it had been talking to me and saying that I was always welcome at the Caledonian. Gosh, don't you love a boy who actually does what he says he will?
Finally caught a cab home, quite tired but satisfied after a good night out...
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