A Perfect London Day

After I got out of the shower in the morning, I found a message on my phone from B, and was quite surprised when his voice sounded Scottish, not Australian like I'd assumed. I mean, I did meet him at the Caledonian Club, so I suppose a Scottish connection makes some sense, but I suddenly wondered: Did I have this all wrong? Was I even remembering the right guy?

Anyway, he was calling to tell me about a last-minute interview he was supposed to go on for work, that was scheduled for the exact time we were due to meet for lunch. So, could we play things by ear? I guess we'll see if this happens in the end, although I suppose none of it's his fault!

I then finished getting ready and out the door to go to the office, where as I walked down the platform on the Underground station, I spotted the manager of my gym. Although of course I instantly recognized him, I figure he must see hundreds of people every day (some who come more regularly than others), so I didn't exactly expect him to recognize me. So imagine my delight when he spotted me, smiled and nodded, and I'm sure might even have engaged me in conversation if I hadn't obviously been rushing past. But how cool, that I obviously do go to the gym enough for the gym manager to recognize me out on the street!

I got to the office, where I immediately ran into some recruiting people I'd worked with before, and so had a nice time chatting and catching up with them for a bit. And I realised that I definitely need to come into the office more, as it's really nice to actually see people at work!

Not like I actually got much work done however, for all my being in the office, as I have to admit I was a bit nervous about meeting B. Would he even be nice? Would it turn out to be totally awkward like so many drinks meet-ups have been before? Finally he called at around 2:30, saying he was just leaving his interview, and would meet me in 15 minutes at St. Paul's Tube Station.

As I approached the station, I really started to worry about whether or not I would recognize B (after all, we'd both been pretty tipsy when we met), but I spotted a guy chatting on his phone, and suddenly instantly realised it was him. And then my stomach did a little flip-flop. I'd vaguely remembered a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed guy, but I think I'd forgotten about the chiseled jaw and wide smile. Instantly felt a bit self-conscious, wondering how on earth this guy could possibly have been interested in me. And wondering if he was perhaps thinking, "Gosh, she seemed cuter when we met..."

Still, he seemed delighted to see me, and so we went to Starbucks, where he bought me a tea (it was HUGE!) and we shared a muffin and talked about this and that and laughed continuously until I was late for my conference call. I used my iPad to send a quick note to my boss that I would be late and kept talking.

We talked about the most random things, from the paper that I'd sent him (he said he's actually shared it with a few others) to our jobs and life in London. At one point he suddenly said, "We never covered how old you are..." and looked at me questioningly. And I had this moment of acute panic. OMG, what if he's merely 24? What if he's a baby? And so I suddenly blurted out, "Thirty." Okay, shaving a year off my age, but at least I didn't claim to be 29, right?

And then he smiled and looked relieved, saying, "Well, I'm 29, so..." No idea why I lied, but I have to admit I breathed a sigh of relief, realising we weren't too far off.

Finally, I was nearly 20 minutes late for my call, so with a pained look, I told him, "I really have to go". We really could have stayed talking for hours, but he walked me back to my office, and parted with suggestions that we should do this again sometime.

Then when I got back to the office and signed into my call, ready with breathless apologies that I was late....there was nobody there. What? A quick IM from another colleague revealed that my boss had CANCELLED THE CALL and neglected to tell me!! Augh!!!!

So I texted B to share my frustration, and he texted me back, but it was too late, he was gone already. Nothing to do but finish out the work day and go home. Right now, I want to kill my boss.

I'd promised to meet my friend Fiona for drinks at the Lansdowne in the evening however, so I went home, dropped off my laptop, and then turned around to go back out again.

As I was changing trains at Earl's Court, I spotted this ridiculously good-looking guy (to quote "Zoolander") waiting for the Picadilly Line. And suddenly I was possessed by the thought, "I wonder if I can get the fantastically hot guy to smile at me?"

I was wearing a wrap dress and a blazer, an outfit that I think reasonably displayed my "assets" and the nipped-in blazer gave me a reasonable illusion of a waist. Obviously, I'd dressed somewhat to impress B that afternoon, and so suddenly it seemed like an easy way to check if I was looking as good as I imagined I was.

So I glanced at him, then glanced away, then caught him checking me out from the corner of my eye. And then we both got on the train, and pretending a super-shy glance, looked up, and there he met my eye and smiled right at me. Score!

Okay, and then he almost started to talk to me, but I had the moment of doubt, "What if his native language isn't even English? Do I want to get stuck in some awkward conversation?" So I went back to just half-pretending to read my paper, and getting the occasional glance and smile from the incredibly hot guy.

I gave him one last wink as I got off at Green Park, and was just smiling from head-to-toe as I walked to the Lansdowne. There's something about a cute boy obviously thinking you're attractive...

As I was walking, I suppose it might have had something to do with how much I was smiling, but I was surprised when this guy walking past me in the other direction absolutely purred at me as he walked by, "Well, hello gorgeous..."

That one almost made me skip a beat, because I wondered, "Well, it's one thing to be looking good, but what makes random men passing you on the street want to stop and talk to you? I don't look like a hooker, do I?"

Hence, I got to the Lansdowne a bit chastened, although I brightened up when I arrived and saw my friends Stephanie and Piers, soon joined by the wonderfully charming Sophie. I sat chatting with everyone for a bit, although I was unsure of what to do about drinks, as while I'm grateful to my friends who are members of the Lansdowne who so frequently buy me drinks, I was unsure if I might need one of their cards to buy drinks as well. Hence, when one chap offered me a glass of champagne, I just about nursed it for hours, unsure of how to contribute. Finally I just asked Sophie outright if I could just pay cash at the bar, and she looked at me with surprise and said, "Of course you can, darling!" So I went and bought a bottle of champagne to contribute to the rounds, which was absolutely the right thing to do, as Sophie's attitude towards me perked up considerably after that. Must remember that in the future!

Had a funny time talking with this chap Henrick, who runs a cigar club (he was showing me photos), and I laughed when as I was talking about smoking cigars after the Grouse Dinner last Saturday, he remarked, "Can I just say that I want to marry you right now? A girl who smokes cigars? That's just the most incredibly sexy image in my head right now." I had to laugh, because he didn't even seem to be kidding, he was really totally in love with me after that!

Also during the evening, we were joined by a group of guys from Sport UK who were engaged in a year-long challenge to try every single sport sponsored by Sport UK, and so had been at the Lansdowne that evening trying fencing. Nice, charming boys, who then obeyed Sophie's directives to pour the champagne for us, for as Sophie said, "My daddy taught me that I should never pour my own drinks when there are boys present."

It did make me laugh, because I have spent many a dinner sitting with a nearly empty glass, wondering when one of the boys I was with was going to pour more wine for me. Because on the few occasions where I've then almost reached for the bottle myself, the boy in question has acted hugely offended and almost un-manned that I would even think of pouring my own drinks. So Sophie's approach was more direct, but made it so utterly clear that the boys were on the hook for taking care of us. Perhaps there's something to that, where you should simply decide that you will never pour your own drinks, and simply tell the boys present what they need to do... Feminism did gain us some great strides, but sometimes I think we've lost the nice touches like opening doors and standing when women enter a room. And so it's nice to insist that you simply won't let some things go, and the boys will always have to pour the champagne.

I also spent a huge amount of time, along with Sophie, talking to this charming Indian kid who was Swedish (he'd been adopted). He was absolutely hysterical, and it was a pity he looked to be about 19, as he was incredibly quick-witted and funny, with some great stories about growing up as the only "brown kid" in Sweden. When I talked to Sophie at one point about how I'd dressed for my coffee date in a way that I thought showed off the "assets" I have that might appeal to men, this kid didn't miss a beat: "Yes, I absolutely love your shoes!!" Oh my gosh, had me in hysterics.

Unfortunately, our new Swedish friend eventually needed to leave, and the group became smaller. I spotted a rather good-looking chap obviously circulating towards the back of the room, unsure as to whether he could join, so I gave him an encouraging smile and he came and joined us. Turns out he was a German guy who was really into fencing, and so whilst he wasn't normally part of the Lansdowne Younger Member's scene, he'd come along this evening.

We were also joined by Adam, a 25-year old medical student who I've gotten to know at various events like these, and we ended up in a chat about men, women, and relationships, prompted by a text he received as we were chatting from a young women he'd hooked up with the night before, even though she "officially" (if very tentatively) still had a boyfriend. We talked about how he imagined there might be women out there who liked sex without emotional attachment, and he'd almost thought that this girl might be one, except then he'd just gotten this text obviously indicating further interest. I had to laugh, as it was so obviously the thinking of a young man who doesn't understand women all that well. (And is being confused by a girl who is trying hard to act like the male ideal she thinks she should be like, but of course truly wants the emotional attachment that we all crave if we're honest with ourselves).

Finally, the club was closing, and I swear to you that I had the best of intentions at this point to go home. But of course, I didn't count on Sophie. You see, Sophie is a girl I adore, but who is also an absolute force of nature. So when Sophie insisted that we were all going out to the 151, I suppose it was silly of me to think that I could resist. There's something about Sophie that means nobody can refuse her...

So myself, the German guy (who was hugely hitting on Sophie), the medical student and Sophie all piled into a cab, and found ourselves at the 151. Sophie got me in for free (thank goodness), and we then just danced to the music for a while. The 151 is a funny club, because although it's very much a typical Chelsea club (boys in suits EVERYWHERE, and overpriced drinks), it's also a huge dive, being hot and sweaty with a small dance floor.

Danced for a while just to mess around and have fun, and then took a breather to find Sophie, who was chatting to some random old guys that she knew through various connections. And although the men looked to be about the same age as her father (who I'd met earlier that evening), she confessed to me that one of them had actually asked her out. I'm always so surprised that this happens to Sophie, because indeed she does frequently get asked out by men who I would think should realise that she's far too young for them. Although sometimes she does go out with older men if they're wealthy enough, so perhaps it's all about understanding your target audience. It's always a puzzle to me, however...

I then later spotted a guy who looked incredibly familiar, and he even obviously recognized me in return and shouted at me across the club that I should come over, but I didn't because I couldn't figure out for the life of me where I knew him from. I still kind of wonder how I knew him...

Instead, sat down with Sophie and got involved with a conversation with a young trader named Pablo, who had some fun with us by making us guess his profession. It's hysterical to me how young, rich boys in Chelsea are always traders!

Finally, it was 2:30 AM, and I just couldn't deny any longer that I was incredibly tired. Luckily Sophie was too, so we both exited the club together, found cabs for each other in short order, and headed on home. It had been one of those utterly fantastic days that make me absolutely love living in London, but finally after a great day I was ready for bed!