The Young Dutchman's Birthday

Tonight, battling exhaustion, it was time to celebrate the Young Dutchman's birthday. Thankfully I woke up with an absolutely clear head, although was tired from having gotten only a few hours of sleep.

I was disappointed but not entirely surprised to get a text from S later that afternoon, saying: "Hi Adrian, it's S! Sorry not to reply sooner - glad you got home safely. I'd say 4.45am is the latest club night ive been to...passed out as soon as i stumbled through the front door! Thanks for the invitation to dinner/drinks tonight but I don't think I'm going to come - too knackered! X"

A pity, but as I pointed out to Doro, at least that kind of freed me up to just enjoy the evening without stressing about him. I could use an evening out just to have some fun.

I made my way out in the snow (slipped at least four times on the pavement trying to make my way to the Tube), and found the restaurant where we were meeting for dinner. It was a strange place, as it used projection technology to project the menu onto the table, where you scrolled through the dishes and clicked on things to order them. Then, while you were waiting for your food, you could play games of battleship! I was sitting across from the Young Dutchman's younger brother, who I had met at the ball the night before, and we had a good time playing battleship and bonding.

The dinner was okay, but I don't think I'd go back, despite the interesting concept of the tables. I ended up way overpaying for dinner, but did so just to keep the peace. Yet, I was grateful when we got to the Lansdowne, that I didn't have to buy a single drink of my own, that there were enough magnums of champagne going to keep us all happy.

I spent most of my time talking to a chap David from the Oriental Club the night before, who I'd thought was interested in me the night before. Yet it turned out he had a girlfriend (who I'd somehow never met at the ball, which struck me as incredibly odd), and anyway he wasn't quite as attractive when not in black-tie anyway. Still he seemed fond of me, and without the pressure of romance, I actually found that I liked him too, and he looked after me all evening. Made sure my champagne glass was always topped up, engaged me in conversation, and we had great banter going at all times.

As is usual at the Lansdowne, I ran into tons of people I know, even folks who weren't part of the birthday celebrations. I spotted a chap I'd met at the Moveable Feast, and thankfully remembered his name from the depths of my head just in the nick of time. Good to see him again, although I found it amusing that he hadn't gone to the ball the night before because his girlfriend hadn't "allowed" him to go. Please let me never do that to a boy I like...

At midnight, the Lansdowne bar closed, so we made our way on to the RAC (even as we noted later that absolutely none of us are members). Got some drinks, ran into more people we knew, and just plopped ourselves down on the couches to talk to everyone.

I was surprised when I saw a young woman who I always see with Gordon these days, and asked her as an aside what was going on with the two of them. I'd assumed they were dating, or at least interested, but she seemed so quick to disabuse me of that notion I wonder if I've completely got the wrong of it. I suppose my relationship with the Young Dutchman might not be the only close-yet-platonic relationship going on...

It was kind of hysterical when at one point she just blurted out to the group that she just had to tell me how fantastic my cleavage was (yes, we might have all been a bit tipsy which loosened the inhibitions of our tongues), and somehow the entire group got into a conversation about it. Very funny, but also perhaps I need to wear more turtlenecks, as it really shouldn't come up in conversation!

We ended up snapping tons of photos, laughing in the way that hysterically funny drunken evenings end up, and I found myself sitting quite close with the Younger Brother, who I can tell you from my close proximity to him was getting a bit "excited" about sitting next to such an attractive girl with such impressive cleavage. Okay, now this was wrong on a number of levels (I don't even want to THINK about how young he is), but it was weirdly reassuring after getting my confidence shaken by S the night before. Boys still like me!

Finally, at 4 AM, once again the RAC finally decided it was time for us to go home. Now I'd violated one of my cardinal rules and had been drinking whilst sitting down, and hence was not in great shape. So I'm grateful that my self-appointed protector decided to look after me, trotting me up to Green Park along with Piers to find more fruitful grounds to hail a cab (once again, cabs at 4 AM in the snow are hard to find), and then when he spotted the N9, hustled us both onto it.

We sat upstairs together, ready to ride nearly the whole way home, while Piers realised the N9 wouldn't take him where he wanted to go, and he should get off to try and grab a cab. Only just as he took his leave of us, the bus swerved in an unexpected direction, and we realised we were on the N19, not the N9! Ooops!

This worked out well for Piers, who actually turned out to be on the right bus, but bad for me and my protector. So we stumbled off the bus at Sloane Square, and luckily quickly turned up a cab. He jumped out near Earls Court, gave me £10, and I made it the rest of the way home for £5. Stumbled into my door at 4:30 AM, quite tired but glad to be home. What an excellent night!