I was so excited for this week's run, because I was able to walk to the starting pub, since the run was in Shepherd's Bush! The run was even being held at the Richmond Pub, a pub that I had lived directly across the street from for an entire year (the drunken men outside during the summer used to disturb my sleep), and yet I had never been inside. So this was a very exciting run for me.
When I arrived at the pub (following arrows backwards from my flat the entire way), I realised instantly why I had never been inside this particular pub: It was a real working men's pub, and I was the only person wearing pink in the entire place.
I sat down with the others to await everyone's arrival, and got talking to Sthweetheart. Turns out that just 2.5 months after starting a new job, he's been offered a different new job at double the salary. Thrilling news, although you could understand why he felt bad about leaving a job that he'd only begun 2.5 months earlier!
At about 7:15, we set out on the run, and I was pretty pleased with myself that I was able to keep up with the pace, and we never ran anywhere that I didn't know the area. It was nice to for once on a hash always know where I was!
Just as we were running near Kensington Olympia, we ran into a guy running the other direction. I did what Pork Pie often does, and yelled out, "You're going the wrong way! Come running with us!" So imagine my surprise when the guy shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay!" and fell into step beside me.
Unfortunately we were almost towards the end of the run, but he tagged along with the group all of the way back to the pub. He stayed and chatted with us for a bit at the pub, and I learned that his name was Nick, that he was Bulgarian, and that he lived on Sinclair Road and had been on his way to go work out with his rowing crew when he ran into me. I have to admit, it made me feel rather chuffed that this guy would pass up a workout with his team in favour of just following me around...never underestimate the appeal of an attractive girl!
After my new Bulgarian friend decided that he still needed to get a proper workout in for the evening (I don't blame him, as he had joined very late in the run and had not gotten a good workout in), I was standing around with everyone outside, when the cute Oxford Boy suddenly appeared (the guy from a few weeks ago), still in a suit from work. Okay, I'm not ashamed to admit it, he looked so ridiculously handsome that my knees got a little weak. Damn, how is it that boys look so good in suits? (Barney Stinson from "How I Met Your Mother" was right about that one).
He came up and greeted me first, and I'm not sure if that's because he doesn't really know other people yet, or he was really excited to see me. But he noticed I was without a drink, and so offered to get me one. As he walked into the bar, I got distracted for a moment by Lex, who needed to know the location of the nearest ATM and have me hold his drink. I thought surely now I would have lost him, but when I looked up, he was standing at the door, and gave me a nod as if to say, "You coming?" Bounded up the steps after him, just like an overly-eager puppy...
He got me a drink, and pretty shortly after that, Lex returned to reclaim his drink. It was really funny, because this was the first time he had met Lex, even though he had already met Lex's doppelganger at Louise's birthday party. And it was hilarious, because he kept exclaiming, "You look exactly like this guy we met at the pub!" He was doing the doppelganger thing the other way around...
As the crowds shuffled through the bar, this very chesty woman suddenly stopped me to ask me, "Sweetie, where do you get your sports bras? I'd love to work out more, but it's too painful, and you're the first girl I've ever seen with a chest like mine who works out!"
I suppose this shows the hidden sisterhood of really large-chested women, as I was only too eager to let her in on my secret, that I wore two sports bras at the same time, one on top of the other. And we actually got into quite an in-depth conversation about how some sports bras are so restrictive that you can't breathe, but you need a sufficient amount of support. I did find it funny though, that out of all the girls who had been on the run, she zeroed in on me as having the biggest chest and yet still obviously supported.
I was so cracked up by this, that I immediately had to go tell Sthweetheart, who has often made jokes about my sizeable chest. Unfortunately cute Oxford Boy was there, as he'd wandered off while I was talking to the chesty lady. Oh well, hopefully he found it funny...
I continued to spend most of my time talking to the cute Oxford Boy, who held my drink when I got done for picking up a cute guy on the run, and I held his when he got called up to do a little dancing demonstration.
When we were out of our first drinks, he got us both a second round, where he paid again. I was really wondering, "Should I be paying here or not?" On the one hand, I didn't want to appear to be taking advantage of his generosity, and it really was my round. However, trading rounds seems to give off an incredibly "friendly" vibe, so I wondered if it made more sense to just let him keep paying (as I knew he could afford it) and feel all manly.
Still, at least he can't argue that I wasn't paying attention to him, because I ended up chatting to him all evening, and discovering that he was actually quite hilarious. Turns out his secret past was that he was super-nerdy and into computer programming. Damn, the boy just got even more attractive. I love computer nerds.
He also mentions that he works by St. Paul's, and that we should meet up for lunch sometime since I also work nearby...would be nice to see him when I'm not all sweaty from running!
The only thing that did give me pause, is I can't remember how it even came up, but he described himself as "super Catholic." Which of course made me think, "Damn, does that mean you don't do pre-marital sex?" (Seriously, I think I could handle the religious element, as I spent so much time in Catholic churches growing up. But I just couldn't handle anyone who was that stand-offish about physical intimacy). Particularly as I'm still not convinced this guy could be anything serious, as fun and awesome as he is.
As I was chatting to him, my phone started buzzing repeatedly, the indication that it was an actual phone call. (And since I was storing my phone in my sports bra, it was kind of hard to keep a straight face while talking since I was getting buzzed!) When the cute Oxford Boy went to the loo, I checked my missed calls and realised it had been Joel calling. Damn! I always love talking to Joel! So I texted him, saying, "Apologies I couldn't answer phone, was chatting to a cute boy. Will call you in a bit."
About an hour later, I received a reply: "Outrageous. Surely not as cute as me. Ur a tuff mistress."
Alas, since cute Oxford Boy had now returned from the loo, I could not text Joel back, until I finally managed to respond on my walk home when it was nearly midnight: "Of course not as cute as you! (No boy is). But he was there and buying me drinks, so I thought that ignoring him to call Joel instead, while understandable, would be a bit impolite..."
It's funny, as I'm sure it's nothing, but I could swear from random comments here and there that Joel seems to be growing a bit more fond of me than as just a friend. Which is madness (this is Joel we're talking about, who has been my friend for eight years!), but it's enough that I did pause before asking his advice on the hidden messages of drinks payments with men. In the end, I never asked.
In the end, I let the cute Oxford Boy pay for the second round (he's a banker, I doubt it will kill him), but at the end of the evening, when I was just getting confused and we were more into larger conversations with the rest of the group, I paid for half-pints for each of us. I have to say, I wasn't sure why he was so determined to stay on so late (it was 11:30 PM by this point and they were mopping the floors of the bar), but a part of me selfishly hopes perhaps it was the pleasure of my company.
Finally, they had rung the bell, mopped the floors, and asked for our glasses back, as it was really time for us to leave and go home. Upon realising that I wasn't going to be going to the Tube with them, DD says he and Piddler (or maybe the whole crowd), should come home with me, since I live around the corner. I might have considered that, if only I hadn't left dirty laundry all over my floor. No way was I inviting people to come see that mess! One more reason I should clean up regularly, even when I'm not expecting company. And let's face it, Oxford Boy is the only one I really want coming home with me.
So I sent them all on their way, and walked home, texting Joel as I went. What an unexpectedly fantastic evening!
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