First Drinks at the Lansdowne

This evening was my first day as an official Lansdowne Club member (no April Fools, I really did join!) and so I went to join the crowds at the bar for my first time joining the club.

While I was chatting to the crowds, I met a guy, a really cute South African. At first things seemed to be going swimmingly, as it was one of those classic, "I like you and you like me" moments. We chatted, I made him laugh, and we were having a great time telling stories about South Africa, studying in the US (he went to Emory in Atlanta for undergrad), and teasing our siblings. He insisted on buying me a drink. It's all good. Then a friend greeted me, and mentioned that she hadn't seen me since her birthday party. Which prompted the South African to ask her how old she was. She exclaimed in horror what bad form it was to ask a woman how old she is (the equivalent question for guys has got to me, "How much money do you make?" or "How big exactly is your penis?"), but finally the girl relented and told him she had just turned 26. Well duh, of course you can tell someone you're 26, because that's really no big deal. And the guy reveals he's 27. And turns to me and asks me how old I am!! Jeepers people, have we learned nothing here??? So I kind of make a fuss about not telling him, which later I realised was probably the wrong move, as now the guy probably thinks I am 40 years old. And as a (male) friend told me later, "You are too hung up on the age thing. Boys care much less about it than you would think". Needless to say, although we chatted for another half-hour, he got a call which he had to step outside to take, and I never saw him after that.

At least, while feeling a disconcerted about that interaction with the South African, I spotted the American Guy I Once Hooked Up With. Never went anywhere and nothing has happened since, we mostly pretend it never happened. But he's cute and decent company, so while I was sitting with one group of friends, I caught his eye across the room and gave him a little half-smile. He then immediately got up, made his apologies to the group he was with, and came over to sit with me. Yay, thank you for that little ego boost!

I suppose I needed it though, for at the same party, a guy I know (who is never exactly known for his social graces), told me that I was looking "slim", like I'd lost weight. I know he meant it as a compliment, but don't people realise that such a comment only implies that you were looking fat before? Plus, doesn't help that I weigh myself every morning and I know darn well that I haven't lost any weight. But that's another issue...