RAC Drinks

This evening a friend from Inter-Club events had decided to just randomly invite a whole bunch of us to the Royal Automobile Club for drinks. He's a Super-Nice Guy, and usually doesn't stay out too late at events anymore, as he has a really sweet and nice girlfriend who he often prefers to stay in with. So I was a bit surprised that he was the one to take the initiative to host a party, but it's not like we don't need an excuse to party!

I arrived at the RAC, and despite their sign admonishing that members needed to show cards, I just walked in like I knew where I was going, and of course nobody bothered me. Checked my coat in at the cloakroom, and then found everyone outside on the terrace.

It was a slightly chilly evening, but we stood near the heaters to ward off the cold, and enjoyed perhaps one of the last times of the year we would be able to stand outside. The Super-Nice Guy introduced me to a young recent grad from Oxford (Wadham) and after apologizing that he couldn't buy drinks for everyone (why would he even think that he should? The invite and organizing the get-together was plenty!), I took her downstairs and got her a bottle of mineral water and a glass of white wine for myself. She was a sweet little thing, obviously a bit shy and nervous at the first such gathering like this she had ever attended, so I did try to do my part and introduce her around to people. Every so often she would lose the attention of whoever she had been talking to and would gravitate back to me, at which point I would introduce her to more people. I would like to think that I'm learning to be more sympathetic towards shy people, and sometimes you have to be the nice person who is a shy person's saviour.

Saw tons of folks I knew and was making the rounds to say hello, when the staff at the RAC came out to let us know we were being too loud for the outdoors, and needed to retreat downstairs to the Long Bar. So in we went!

In the course of circulating conversation, I found myself chatting to the Australian Girl, a lovely Australian girl who had given me invaluable advice on travelling to Australia for my trip last Easter. We'd randomly met at the Caledonian Club and upon hearing about my trip, she'd taken it upon herself to make sure I was well-advised. Then, when I saw her two weeks ago, again at the Caledonian, I'd promised to write to her some advice about visiting Chicago. Only I hadn't done it, and here she was! So found myself apologizing, and promising to write the very next day (which I'll have you know I did).

It was funny, because in my conversations with B, I learned that he WAS dating the Australian Girl (as I'd first assumed when I met him, before we started meeting up for random coffee dates), although in retrospect I think it was a case of "settling down" a bit, and I was one more stop along the way before he decided he was with the Australian Girl. Fine enough.

The interesting bit is that B and I have continued a fine e-mailing friendship, where I've been able to tell him about the disasters of my nighttime escapades with the silly boy and chemistry-less dates with S. And he talks a bit about his relationship with the Australian Girl too. Needless to say, I did not mention ANY of this to the Australian Girl as we spoke, as she's really lovely and I genuinely like her, and just think that there's no way I could tell her without it coming out wrong. Although it was funny, as B e-mailed me the very next morning to say, "I hear the two of you got talking last night!" Reassured him that we'd just been talking about Chicago, as I think he'd also realised that the Australian Girl probably wouldn't be thrilled to hear about some of what WE discuss with each other..

As I was talking to the Australian Girl, some really old guy interrupted our conversation, and totally started taking it over. I'd been talking about the rescue of the Chilean miners (I'd had a marvellous day hitting refresh on my news websites, delighting as more and more of them were rescued), and I think he brought up some political topic. I don't know, I'm afraid I did something rather inexcusable, and escaped to go talk to someone else, leaving the Australian Girl stuck with the old guy. Oh well, she already has a boyfriend, so no real need to circulate quite as much, right?

I was then grabbed by the Ex-Boyfriend of my friend Caroline, who told me that he'd shown up for the drinks party I'd had on the terrace at the O&C last August, but he couldn't find me! He showed up right at 6:30 (the party start time), so perhaps he was just too early, although I thought I'd been right on time when I was there. Oh well, simply an excuse to have another party to show him the club, right?

I then found myself talking to J, an RAC member who I've gotten to know through all of these events, and indeed was originally supposed to sit with at my first Inter-Club event. Although in truth, we're more acquaintences than anything else, so I was surprised when upon getting the chance to properly talk with him, I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation. He's a classic RAC stereotype, the working-class boy who made good, and made some money. Classic neauvo riche, but that's what the RAC is, and I have to admire these boys for it.

J bought me a drink, and we continued to chat, as started to think about quite how cute and charming he actually is. Okay, so he smokes, but he's incredibly nice. The same old guy who had interrupted my conversation with the Australian Girl earlier came up and took over our conversation, talking about exchange rates. We humoured him for a bit, but it was hysterical for, as soon as he walked away, J immediately said, "Phew! He's gone! Now what were we talking about before?" Made me laugh. So we dropped the conversation about exchange rates and went back to what we were originally talking about, it was hysterically funny.

Somehow J got dragged off (the boys were talking about cars), or maybe I did, where I found myself once again with S, the boy from the O&C with the gorgeous blue eyes. He's too young for me, but I still enjoy his company and the fact that he's a fellow member of the O&C. He bought me a drink as well, and we got to chatting as I just enjoyed the easy flirtation.

Still, didn't get stuck with him for too long, as the Overweight-Yet-Attractive guy showed up! Was lovely to see him, ask about his wife, and just chat and catch up for a bit. At least I got a chance to talk to him, as the Italian Guy (who is normally one of my favourite people to chat with at events like this) came over to apologize for not getting a chance to talk to me, but assuring me that we would connect next time. How sweet of him at least to come say hello!

They started shutting down the Long Bar, and somehow we made our way back outside to the terrace, where I found myself sitting with S, the Super-Nice Guy (our host for the evening), some random girl, and three other boys. One had the same name as my ex, one was called Jim, and one was seriously called Bertie. Like Bertie Wooster. I loved that! I'd never met anyone named Bertie before!!

After the introductions, I found myself sitting with Bertie, who obviously had reached a point in his cups where he'd lost all sorts of mouth filter, as he immediately complimented my chest (I know men frequently admire, but you still don't expect to hear comments out loud), and then asked me where I live, telling me, "I've got to figure out how I'll get home from there in the morning." Although I appreciated the interest, it was all a bit too much, and I was definitely engaging in some nervous laughter. Oh well, he was way too young, 25 of something like that. Apparently the other two were of more a reasonable age for me, but alas I didn't know this when we'd arranged our chairs to sit down.

The one other girl remaining (why can I never learn to leave events at a reasonable hour?) took an instant liking to me, although she was obviously a bit intimidated by all of the boys (it was her first time in a club like this). She wanted to go out dancing when the boys suggested it, but wanted me to come. Alas, I fear I just can't be bothered to babysit.

Finally everyone started to make a move, although all of the boys wanted to go to Whiskey Mist. Ugh, I hate over-priced nightclubs like that one, so there was definitely no way I was going. I looked to S to hopefully save me, declaring that I wouldn't leave until he went, but the faithless friend seemed up for going to Whiskey Mist. Damn. That's why, although I like him, I know he's too young for me.

At least the Super-Nice Guy who was our host for the evening seemed to realise that going out further was not the best idea. So he suggested we go downstairs and have tea. (Needless to say, I thought this was an excellent idea!) The others kept pleading to go out to Whiskey Mist, but the Super-Nice Guy was walking downstairs, and I moved to follow him.

I was surprised then when the Guy Who Has The Same Name As My Ex called out to me, and stopped me in the stairwell as I was headed down. I can't even recall HOW what happened next happened, but all of a sudden he was kissing me. Like full on, lips on lips, make-out session.

Yet I suppose in a display of how much wine I'd had, I felt so utterly removed from the situation. I kept my eyes wide open (I was NOT about to get caught making out with a random guy in the stairwell at the RAC, so I was ready go break away at the first sign of movement), and I had to note that the kiss was just sort of wet and full of saliva, something like what Dustin Hoffman described when the girl kissed him in "Rain Man".

As I stood there, the thought going through my mind was not anything about romance or passion, but just the query of, "How did he know that if he kissed me, I would kiss him back, instead of slapping him?" In truth, the only reason I was kissing him was because he had the same name as my ex, and I guess that name always brings up slightly misty-eyed associations for me. So I kissed him out of....nostalgia, I guess?

After I started to worry that the make-out session might have gone on a bit too long and we were in danger of being caught, I broke it off, once again refused to come to Whiskey Mist, and skipped downstairs to where the Super Nice Guy was sitting on a sofa by the pool and told him, "The most bizarre thing just happened..." I'm not sure if the Super-Nice guy even processed what I told him, as he'd obviously had quite a bit to drink, he just laughed.

The Super-Nice Guy then ordered tea for the both of us, and then pretty much promptly fell asleep on the couch. I drank my tea, assured the one remaining staff member that I would be back, quickly ran to the loo, and then came back to find the Super-Nice Guy still slumpering on the couch. So I gave him a kiss in an attempt to wake him up, but that didn't work, so I just shook him. Finally he woke, and I suggested that it was time for him to go off to bed.

At the RAC, they actually have dormintory-style bedding for the men, where they can pass out after a night of drinking, and the staff will launder and iron their shirt, so that their suit is clean and pressed and ready to go in the morning. Only men can stay due to the open plan (and would any woman ever want to admit that she had so much to drink that she needed to crash at the club?), but for only £30, it's excellent value as it saves one the cab fare.

For me however, it was time to catch a cab. So the staff went and got my coat, hailed a cab for me, and piled me into it. £17 later, I was home!

In the morning, I did worry that I might have seemed like I was coming onto the Super-Nice Guy. I hope he didn't see it that way, because that would be awkward. After all, his girlfriend is absolutely lovely, and one of the reasons I went with him rather than out with the crowd of dodgy boys, is that he's so devoted to his girlfriend I knew I was totally safe with him. So I sent him a quick thank-you e-mail, hoping it wouldn't be misinterpreted, and got a nice, but not unusual response. Phew! Looks like I may have handled that one okay.

In the future I really need to learn to leave events at a more reasonable hour, but a friend pointed out, that I wouldn't have nearly as many interesting late-night adventures if I did. Kissing random boys in the stairwell of the RAC? You have to admit, it makes for good stories later!