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| The birthday boys |
I woke up again when the Tall South African texted, we both apologised for ignoring the other the night before (I hadn't even said two words to him!) and I agreed to meet him and The Blonde out at Oxford Circus once I'd had a shower.
I met the two of them out shopping, which was a much more fun activity for them than it was for me. I really could care less about shopping, to be quite honest! So I was glad then when we left the shops after making a few purchases to go and get coffee. I had tea and a pain au chocolat at a cozy little chocolate cafe, while we talked about schooling and what we'd studied during our formative years.
We then walked back to Harrods (the Tall South African's favourite store), and after a bit of a wander there, decided to go grab some dinner at Wagamama. Good thing, as at this point I was starving. We joked and laughed quite a bit through lunch, with the Tall South African and I exchanging our usual jokes. I later found out that this upset The Blonde a bit, as we were talking about the Tall South African's history with women, which she felt as "the girlfriend", she shouldn't be hearing about. In his mind however, given that he's not really sure if they're dating, it didn't bother him. Oh, the mixed messages!
We then broke up our little crowd to head home to change for our evening adventures. I agreed to meet the Tall South African back at the club, while The Blonde would go to a friend's birthday, and we would all reconvene at the party in Clapham we were supposed to go to later.
The Tall South African took forever to get going, and I eventually just left to go out to the club whilst texting them both constantly to get a move-on. It was only later when I saw the Tall South African that he laughed and told me they'd been having a quickie, which is what had caused the delay. Ah yes, I could see how that would get one behind schedule!
The Tall South African and I had ostensibly said that we would meet back at the club to have a whiskey tasting lesson, although in truth it was as much an excuse to have time for just the two of us. We'd been talking about it on the phone throughout the week, how as much fun as we have when we are out in groups, we also really need time for just the two of us to catch up. Somehow, we really need our "alone together" time more than anything else.
Still, I was determined to teach him about whiskey. He joked about how he was a man learning about whiskey from a woman, which was an unusual turn of events, but he was keen to learn, and I have to admit at this point in my life I do know a lot about whiskey, so I was keen to share my passion for it.
First it was Bowmore vs. Highland Park, learning to appreciate the smoky peat of an isle Islay whiskey vs the sherry-casked sweetness. He'd previously declared himself to be a Laphroig fan, so I wanted to make him aware of what makes the isle Islay whiskies so distinctive.
We had those over at a table in the bar, but then one of the club staff came in, saw me, and when I mentioned the fire, they started the real fire going in the grate in the bar, so we moved to big leather chairs to continue talking. A lovely blonde girl I know also arrived to meet a friend for drinks before dinner, but since he wasn't there yet, she joined us a bit for the whiskey lesson.
Then it was on to Laphroig vs Bowmore, the two isle Islay whiskies, before finishing with Glenfiddich vs Glenmorangie. I took him through learning to taste, to pick out the distinct flavours, to add a few drops of water and appreciate the new flavours revealing themselves, and he really seemed to be understanding how complex and unique whiskies are, and what makes so many single malts so fascinating to drink.
Finally, we settled on the Bowmore as being our favourites, so I got two double-measures, and we sat in front of the fire talking for ages, having settled the whiskey question and now talking about life. He was a bit confused, as he'd finally slept with The Blonde the night before, but confessed that the sex hadn't been as great as he'd been hoping for. I laughed and explained to him that he was again making a mistake I'd seen him make before, confusing a sexually forward girl for a self-confident one, and pointing out to him that while all women have their insecurities, a woman who is a bit free with her sexual favours is one who usually is trying to reassure herself of her attractiveness to men due to her insecurities.
I admitted that I even have my insecurities, given that I wish my stomach was flatter, which prompted him to vehemently reassure me that I should have no such concerns. "Do you understand how sexy you are? You have curves! So many girls have girlish figures, but you....you look like a woman. Trust me, you should never underestimate how attractive you are."
And then this led to a conversation we've had before, about why we're not together. Everyone I speak to seems to think that one of us (usually me) must be lying when I claim that we're happy as we are, that we have a complete, total, and honest understanding with each other. And so we talked about how we each do find the other attractive, and how we probably would have a lot of fun if we were sleeping together. But how I haven't given up on finding a guy to marry and have kids with, and we're just too far apart in age for that to happen. Which made him laugh and say, "If you're over 40 and still single, right before it's too late, trust me, we'll get together and have a kid together."
It made me laugh, because I hope to God we never get there, but it just so clearly lays out what is going on here. I like him. He likes me. In fact, there is almost nobody in the world who we like quite as much, who we are as comfortable with, and on top of all of this we're even attracted to each other. But it still isn't going to work, at least not right now. And we know this, and are fine with it. I know there are all these romantics out there who imagine that love will somehow conquer all, but I think we're both practical enough to know what we're dealing with here. We still totally adore each other however, and how great is that, to meet someone who you like completely, as they do you?
We then moved on to having Old Fashioneds (even though I had to talk the bartender through making them), which the Tall South African confessed used to be his drink of choice. And then we had two glasses of port, which we were convinced would be our last before we headed out to this party that we were now horribly late for.
Yet, just then an Irish friend of mine popped into the bar with a few friends, and when he offered to get us each one more round of drinks, we couldn't resist but to stay and chat for a little while. Finally though, it was 11 PM, and we were due at this party which had been going since 6 PM. Definitely time to go!
We debated taking the Tube, but realising how late we were, I insisted that we just grab a cab. It was only £20, and we thankfully made it to the pub in just 20 minutes, where we found everyone was just leaving to catch the final trains home. I'd been texting the Young Dutchman the whole way there to reassure him that I'd almost arrived, and we got there just as he and Kellogg Boy where on their way out. Yet I had spent so much time with them the last night, and will see them again at the weekend, and Canadian Balliol Guy wasn't even there, so I wasn't too worried.
I also got a good laugh when I ran into the Young Scotsman, who had obviously been putting the moves on a girl a bit below his usual standards of attractiveness all evening. She was quite settled on him for the evening, although when he saw me show up, he reacted with such surprise and delight to see me, you could tell this girl was suddenly quite concerned. No worries, my dear, he's all yours for the evening... I'll catch up with him later.
We only had time for one drink, we'd arrived so late, but did get a chance to talk to quite a few people in the short amount of time that we were there. Luckily for us, the party continued back at the flat of the birthday boy, so we were able to continue on for that. As we walked along, I caught sight of the Tall South African talking to Qatari Boy, which had me concerned, but I resisted the impulse to jump in to see what they were talking about. (The Tall South African later told me it was mostly about him and The Blonde anyway, and nothing really about me. So no worries then).
Back at the flat, we had some cake and drinks, and was grateful when a girl spotted me drinking beer and got me a glass of wine instead, which was much appreciated. Although both the beer and wine were terrible, such a comedown after the good whiskey we'd been having!
The clocks were going back this night, and so when it reached 2 AM, and the clocks really went back to 1 AM, I decided it was probably time for me to head home. When I indicated to Qatari Boy that I was leaving, he decided to walk me out, and was in such a hurry to make sure I didn't leave without him, he didn't even bother to grab his coat. Then, because night buses are so far and few between at that hour, and we'd just missed the bus I would need to take me to South Kensington, he ended up standing outside with me in the freezing cold for 45 minutes. We just wrapped our arms around each other and stood there in the cold, talking about nothing much of importance, but just enjoying being wrapped up with each other. I kept offering to take different buses, but he insisted he would wait with me until the right one arrived. Still, it was nice, just standing there with him, being close to him, cuddled up with my head resting under his chin. I just liked being close to him. Sure, things aren't going to work out with us (I told the Tall South African later that taking him home with me just never seemed like an option), but I still like him, and it's good for my ego to know he likes me.
In fact, he was such a gentleman that I later learned since he'd wandered out of the flat without his coat or his phone, he got locked out of the flat, and everyone inside had already passed out, so he ended up having to stand out in the cold for yet ANOTHER hour until somebody could let him back in! As he put it when he texted me about it, "The price of chivalry". Ha ha! It did really touch me though that he was willing to stay out so late with me, keeping me warm and waiting for the bus with me, even as I sent him back home to sleep alone.
The Tall South African thinks that there's another girl in the picture, and he wants to be "good" and not hurt me. I think the Tall South African is confusing his own situation with mine, but I definitely think that Qatari Boy might be acting out of some misplaced sense of loyalty, thinking he's doing the "right thing", but of course totally screwing up by doing so. As for hurting me...Qatari Boy is waaaaaaaaay over-estimating his attractiveness if he thinks he can do that. I like him, but definitely have a few other interests...
The saga of my night didn't end there however, as once I finally caught the right bus and got to South Kensington, I discovered that there were many fewer connections there than I'd first thought, but still thought I could catch a bus going to Hammersmith. Unfortunately, while not paying attention, I got on the bus going the wrong direction, and ended up in Picadilly Circus back in central London!
By the time I figured this out and got myself sorted out, it was 4 AM (5 AM if it hadn't been for the clocks going back!) when I got home. What a mess! It actually would have been faster if I had walked home! Next time, I should definitely just take a cab....
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