My parents informed me last night that my sister-in-law was going into the hospital this morning at 7:30 AM to be induced. So, I was to keep my phone with me at all times. Indeed, I worked from home for the day, so that I would be around for that phone call in case it came, and I wouldn't be shrieking to the entire office with the news.
Still, the call didn't come all day, so after working from home the entire day, I headed into the office at 4:30 PM for a presentation by Accenture Research. It was in the same location as the day before, with the same drinks and things. I ended up talking to some guy from Accenture Research who works in Chemicals in Texas. Admittedly my mentor had tried earlier to introduce me to someone who was a survey person, but I couldn't hold her attention for a conversation. So instead I'm talking to this Chemicals guy. Not the best, but I'll take it. Overall, it was an interesting presentation, done by a group that produces extraordinary arts events, like the "One and Only" fourth plinth demonstration in Trafalgar Square. It really made me think about the amount of logistics that must go into organizing these events, and how complicated it really is to make them all happen.
After the presentation, there wasn't actually that much socializing, which explains why I'd missed it all the day before. Oh well...
I'd then promised my friend Scrym that although I couldn't make it to the Caledonian Club BBQ being held that afternoon, I would join later, after 9 PM, for drinks. Indeed, I spotted him immediately upon my arrival, and he got up to get me a white wine. As I sipped it, I realised I'd already had quite a few drinks... probably wouldn't be a bad idea to slow down.
I was also enthusiastically greeted by Veronica, who seemed delighted to see me and amused by the fact that I speak Spanish. It's funny, as ever since the Traveller's Club, I feel like she's suddenly decided that we're friends, but I don't mind as she's really a lovely person. So we have a fine time speaking Spanish together for a bit.
I then spotted a chap who I'd met at the Inter-Club quiz back in May, and at the time I'd given him my number, but then reconsidered it and hadn't pursued anything. Not a rejection, per se, but hadn't followed up. I then came back from the US and found that he'd called me and invited me out, but given that the message was over 3 weeks old by that point, I hadn't bothered to respond. Anyway, when a message causes more of a sinking feeling of distress in your stomach than eager delight, I think that tells you something...
He's obviously spotted me, but doesn't come over, so I worry that he's feeling embarrassed. So I resolve to be the bigger person and go over to say hello. This will later prove to be a monumental mistake, but I don't know it at the time.
I end up in generalized group conversation, all the while trying to keep an eye on my phone, still waiting for that phone call. I'd even debated whether I should go out tonight at all, but I figured I could be waiting a while for that call, so I might as well keep myself occupied in the meantime.
My friend Natasha arrived, who I play polo with (although I hadn't realised she knew any of these people). So I ended up talking to her, mostly about polo, and the chap whose calls I'd been ignoring comes and sits down next to me on the bench. And then puts his arm around me and starts feeling up my bottom.
When this happens, I found myself just rooted in place with shock. Is this seriously happening? How on earth could this guy think I'd be into this? And I don't want to make a scene (probably should have just slapped him right then and there), and so I just desperately hope that the other people in the conversation don't notice (it's dark and we're outside in the shadows), and try to dream up a way to possibly get out of there.
So when he offers to go and get me a drink, I accept, thinking that if he goes away, I can say I'm going to the bathroom and then slip out unnoticed. Except this is where not being at your own club has it's downsides, as I race around looking for an exit, I just keep running into rooms with no exit. So I finally figure I'll make a break for the front door, but it's just my luck that the Awful Scotsman happens to be coming out of the bar just as I'm trying to run for it. He asks me, "You're not leaving, are you?"
No, of course not. I can't escape now. So I make some excuse about how I've gotten lost looking for the ladies room, and so he shows me the way to the ladies powder room, even though I've been twice already this evening.
Resigned to my fate, I return to the table and sit back down. Of course, once again, he's totally ignored my request for a weaker drink (I'd asked for a white wine, hoping to stave him off instead of outright asking for tap water), and instead has gotten me a whiskey. Jeez, your strategy of trying to get girls drunk so they'll go home with you a LITTLE obvious?
So I sit back down and he starts feeling me up again. This is ridiculous. I don't want to make a scene, but I desperately want to get out of there. So I notice that he's got quite a bit of his drink to go, so I quickly finish mine and then announce that I'm leaving. I mean, if he were to abandon his drink now, that would just be too obvious, right? So you can imagine my shock and horror when he gets up and announces that he's leaving too! Does this guy not get the hint? Fly through my goodbyes as quickly as I can, Veronica says to me, "Cuidado chica, el quere te." I know, I know... (At least it's handy to have a "secret language" to talk to the another girl with, and reveal my frustration and impatience with this situation).
As he gets stuck saying good-bye to a few more people, I nearly run to the exit, and when I do actually get outside, I kid you not, I dash in a mad sprint for the corner. Flat-out run. I've got to get out of there. I do not even want to think about how on earth I would handle this guy when he's drunk and feeling forceful, alone in the dark outside. As I'm doing the 100-metre dash, I spot a cab turning the corner, and frantically flag it down. As soon as it slows, I leap in, shouting, "Sinclair Road!" The cab speeds off, and with me panting from my mad sprint.
Suddenly my phone goes, it's a text from The Scottish Idiot asking, "Did you leave already?" Umm, well, obviously.... I'd kind of said I was leaving, didn't I?
Then my phone rings, it's him calling. I ignore it. Then a text, "Maybe, since I'm in the area, I should stop by?" Is this guy mental? Seriously, after my hasty escape, he cannot actually think I'd say yes to that, can he? My phone keeps ringing, and I keep ignoring it, at least 3-4 times. Finally I get back to my flat, and as I'm coming in the door a text comes through, 'Are you ignoring me again?" I think the phone rings again too, but I ignore it.
I really cannot believe this guy. I also can't believe I ever gave him my number, but then again I just didn't know at the time. I feel angry and scared, as that was a really bad situation there, and I'd have been in real trouble if I'd gotten stuck alone with that guy. How on earth could he have not picked up on all of my hints? Too much alcohol, I guess. Why do people never realise that drinking too much diminishes one's attractiveness rather than increases it?
Resolve to be more clear about it if I should ever see him again, and give him the brush-off. Obviously, he takes friendly behaviour the wrong way, so sometimes you've got to be a bit more forceful about these things. Ugh, but just hope I never run into him again, that was horrific.
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