Brompton Club

The crowds in the Brompton Club

I had a double-header booked tonight, both the usual Last Wednesday of the Month Younger Member's drinks at the club, and the launch party for the Blonde Dutchman's business, which I had promised him I would go to.  I got stuck at work however, and so I didn't even make it to my first appointment, the club, until 7:45. I got a drink, talked to Ben, and then the Wild Welshman's friend Nick arrived and got me another drink. I said hello to a few familiar faces, including a young squash player I recognised, and then prepared to leave to go to the next party.  I got into a conversation with some random (and charming) Cambridge guys however, and while I should have left, I couldn't say no when they insisted on buying me one more drink. 

I then raced to South Kensington, running a half-hour behind schedule.  The American had written to me earlier in the day to ask if I would be there, and so I had told him when I would arrive, but now I was completely behind.  

I arrived at the Brompton Club, greeted the Blonde Dutchman, and then made my way through the crowds where I quickly found the Young Dutchman and the American chatting to each other.  There was some game going on with trading poker chips, and so I gave the Young Dutchman all of mine.  I wasn't sure what the game was, or if I wanted to play anyway.  The American howled in protest that I gave away all of my chips to the Young Dutchman just because he asked, but as I winked and told the American, "I like him more."

I then went to get a drink at the bar, which was insanely crowded.  To my surprise, I ran into The Blonde on the way, who I hadn't known would be there.  By the time I got to the bar, the time for free drinks was over, but another guy standing there at the bar bought me a drink, because they always do.  

I retired to a corner with The Blonde for a bit to chat, but then the music almost immediately got more like a night club, and so loud that it was impossible to talk.  So we decided to leave so we could go somewhere more quiet to chat and have a proper catch-up, but I of course had to go tell the Young Dutchman that I was leaving.  

When I found him, he gave me a huge guilt trip about leaving, as he rightly pointed out that I'd only recently arrived, that we should support the Blonde Dutchman in his endeavours, and pretty much every other thing he could think of to make me feel bad about going.  I get it, he was only doing it because he wants to have me around as much as I do him.  He hates it when I leave as I hate it when he leaves, we're happier if the other is nearby.  Yet I was still somewhat annoyed at him for giving me such a guilt trip when I just wanted to go.

We somehow found ourselves accompanied by a very drunk guy who obviously wanted to spend more time with The Blonde, but as we couldn't quite figure out what to do with him, we just figured we might as well bring him along.  

So hard to talk to people with the noisy crowds!

Outside the club, we ran into a guy we both know from our running club, quite the surprise.  We chatted to him for a bit, and then made our way on to a really cool little bar that I'd never been to before.  Super-cheap, decorated everywhere with total kitch (I particularly loved the American baseball t-shirts everywhere), and just with a lovely vibe.  I shall have to add that place to my mental list, as it's definitely somewhere that I'd want to go back to in the future.  

The drunk guy got us a bottle of wine, and I stayed chatting to The Blonde and the drunk guy (although more with The Blonde obviously, as the drunk guy was too drunk to really make any sort of sensible conversation).  At last, the drunk guy had called a cab, and eager for a ride home, The Blonde decided to leave with him after I gave her a number of assurances that I would be fine getting home on my own.  I don't live too far from South Kensington, thank goodness!  

I had worried a bit about The Blonde going off with a guy who was so clearly so drunk, but had assured myself that she knew what she was doing.  I figured she'd get a ride close to home, jump out, and send him on his way.  Ah, but this is The Blonde we are talking about, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised in the morning when she messaged me saying, "Jesus!!!  Having {drunk boy} come back with me was a mistake.  He was so bloody weird.  I ended up telling him to F off and get a taxi home.  He didn't get the taxi but did roll over and leave me alone.  Honestly he was insufferable!  Then this morning he was all arsey and annoyed with me when I wouldn't put out!"

I truly do love The Blonde, but this is one of her little personality quirks that just doesn't make any sense to me at all.  If I were out with a guy who was getting that drunk and being that annoying, why on earth would you take him home with you?  Particularly when they're that drunk, you know that a boy is going to have one thing, and one thing only on his mind, and it's not cuddling.

She continued, "It's making me think Paris is a very bad idea.  He likes me way more than I like him.  In fact, I'm not sure that I fancy him at all really."

I told her subsequently that she really shouldn't go off with a guy who makes her uncomfortable like that, but it's obviously her own decision.  As for me, at the time I stayed and finished my drink in the bar while watching the "countdown" timer on my phone that let me know when my bus would be arriving, and then just in time walked out to meet it.  What a civilized way to wait for a bus!

I texted the Young Dutchman once I was home (as is our habit), and was rewarded with my phone ringing for a late-night conversation.  He'd apparently talked to a bunch of Dutch people after I left, and we ended up talking about the American.  I laughed as he brought up how I'd slept with the American once (he's the only one who knows, and the only one who is allowed to know), which I acknowledged saying, "I don't regret it, but I don't exactly want to do it again", which had him in stitches, laughing.  We agreed that the American is not a bad guy, but is quite the manwhore, which seems to be his useful role to fulfil...  We talked a bit about the similarities between his brother and Kellogg Boy, their pessimism being counterbalanced by his own optimism.  And after he complained about some female friends getting pissy with him for not paying them enough attention, we talked about how easy it is to be with each other, because we never worry about making time for each other at parties, knowing we have all the time in the world for each other all the other hours of the day.  As we were right then, always eventually returning to the person we want to talk to most.  And we just talked about this-and-that until he reminded me that it was a school night, and we both needed to get some sleep.

Love.  Love.  Love.  It's moments and conversations like these that remind me of quite how much I love the Young Dutchman.  Not like that, but with such a deep, abiding, trusting affection.  And it almost makes me wonder, will I ever love another man as much as I love the Young Dutchman?  I desperately hope so, for the sake of my own happiness, but some days it seems impossible that I could ever love another quite as much as I do him.  Who else could be so perfect?

Lansdowne Moveable Feast

After Cookie had been talking about how she needed to meet new men while she waited for her current boyfriend to figure out the dissolution of his current marriage, I offered to bring her along to the Lansdowne Moveable Feast happening this evening.  Plus, such events are always fun.

When I arrived, during the wine reception I randomly found myself talking to a guy named Adam who worked in commodities.  He was cute enough, and had just turned 30.  He almost seemed to have potential, except that he was a bit hyper about using the club for networking.

The Young Dutchman arrived, and as usual he brought a smile to my face, although he was in quite a funny mood.  He obviously took an immediate dislike to the commodities guy, and so started talking absolute sh*t to him, but in a way that made the commodities guy think he was genuinely engaging him.  Hard to explain, but in short, the Young Dutchman was obviously telling wild lies, just to see how far he could take it, and how much he could get this guy to buy it.  Kind of like guys hitting on a dumb blonde in a bar, trying to tell her that he's an underwater firefighter, and seeing if he can get her to believe it.

I wasn't quite sure why he was in such a funny mood, but I'm hardly one to spoil his fun, so I didn't blow his cover.  Not quite sure why he so thoroughly disliked this guy however...

Soon enough dinner was due to begin, and I found myself with a blank spot next to me, as my friend Will, who I'd gotten a ticket for at his request, was late.  I nearly had the serving staff clearing away his plate, but I was able to show them a text that assured them he was arriving at any minute, and he managed to arrive just as the first course was being served.

I spent most of the first course talking to him, and only a little bit to the guy on my other side.  As the rotation worked out, I turned out to have a blank spot next to me on one side, as the guy who was supposed to sit there had failed to show up.  I swear, of all my pet peeves in life, that is one of my biggest.  (Hence why the guy from Google the Young Dutchman had me bring to the RAC ball made such a hideously bad impression).  I swear, I want to reserve a special spot in hell for people who just fail to show up at seated dinners without cancelling like that.

I only had one guy to talk to as a result, who I only got his attention for half the time anyway.  Turns out that he designs video games, and was rather nice, but utterly dull.  I wasn't too sad to see him move on at the next rotation.

On the final rotation, I couldn't believe it when I ended up with a blank spot next to me again!  Argh!!  Seriously, I took note of the name of the chap who was supposed to be there, as I think I shall have words with him should he ever be so unlucky as to encounter me.  Seriously, it's just the height of rudeness!

The one guy that I was then left with on my other side was sweet and nice enough, but really hideously dull.  I figured I might at least be able to drink enough to make him more interesting, but the serving staff couldn't seem to trouble themselves to come over to our side of the table, so my glass remained empty and my throat parched.

God bless the Young Dutchman, who I think must have picked up on my distress due to his magical ability to read my mind.  Although dinner was now finished, nobody had yet gotten up from the table.  That didn't bother the Young Dutchman however, who became the first one to get up from the table, came over to me and asked, "Shall we?"  He must have been as bored as I was!  He didn't need to ask twice, and I happily escaped with him.

To my surprise, the dull guy I'd been sitting with at the last course came with us to the bar, and even bought me a drink at the bar.  Cookie came over to join us with the guy she'd been chatting to, who turned out to be a friend of the nice-but-dull guy.  Given that the nice-but-dull guy had bought me a drink, I stayed chatting with them for as long as I could stand it, but finally I'd had enough.  I was just too bored to tolerate any more.

Using the guise that I was excusing myself to go get my jacket (it was a slightly chilly evening), I went and got my extra layer, and then went outside where I had spotted the Young Dutchman smoking with a young filmmaker he'd introduced me to earlier.  Although I shot him a quick disapproving glance for the cigarette, I was too desperate for his more interesting company to risk really taking him to task for it.

We stayed outside chatting for a while, until it really got too cold to be outside and we figured that we'd been anti-social for long enough.  We went back into the bar, and got to chatting with Cookie, Will, and a few others.  Will bought me another drink, and then I got a bottle for Cookie, the Young Dutchman and myself.  I have to admit, at this point I was pleasantly tipsy, and just enjoying chatting to the Young Dutchman, who had me laughing as he showed me photos on his phone from his trip to the Isle of Wight with Kellogg Boy and Canadian Balliol Guy.  Although I was sad I'd missed them, I understand that sometimes those "Three Musketeers" just need their boy time.

Although I can't remember how we got onto the topic, the Young Dutchman then started talking about the Tall South African, except horribly mispronouncing his name.  Which made me realise that in all of the time the Young Dutchman has known the Tall South African, he has never even bothered to properly learn his name, he regards him so little.  Given how the Tall South African regards the Young Dutchman with a bit of hero worship, I'll bet he'd be horrified to know the sentiment is not returned.  Ah well, he'll never hear it from me, at least...

Finally, getting a bit tipsy towards the end of the evening, I figured it was time to go before I missed the last train home.  It seemed easiest to walk towards Bond Street, passing the Young Dutchman's house, so he gave me his arm and walked me along home with him.  We parted at the corner of his street with a hug and a kiss, and then continuing to shout the rest of our conversation at each other as we walked off in opposite directions.  The rest of the company might have been dull this evening, but there's one boy who is so interesting it's hard to end conversations with him!

Lord Arthur Savile's Murder

One of the girls in my running club had a friend who was soon to be appearing in an amateur production of "Lord Arthur Savile's Murder", a play based on a short story by Oliver Wilde.  She invited a large group of us to come, and a number of us decided to take her up on it.  Why not, after all?    Theatre is always fun.

I happened to be working in the office, and so e-mailed back and forth with Roofie's Brother, agreeing that after work we would head up to the play together.  When it got near the end of the work day, he told me that he'd meet me at Moorgate station, and then we'd take the Overground up to the middle of nowhere in north London, where this play was taking place.

When I got to the station, he gave me a kiss on the lips as usual, and then revealed that he'd gotten me a paper, given that he knows how much I enjoy reading all the random stories I can find in it.  Very amusingly, after berating me for being about 10 minutes late, when going through the barriers he discovered that his Oyster card didn't work, as he'd forgotten to top it up.  So we missed the next train and had to wait 10 minutes for another, because he wasted all of his time waiting for me, instead of topping up his card!

Still, we got on the train, and spent the journey reading bits of stories aloud to each other.  He seemed amused at how I read the paper differently from most people, brushing past the stories of murder, politics, and generalised mayhem to focus on the strange, absurd and amusing.  I think he was shocked at how many interesting stories I managed to find in a single free paper, whilst he was focused on all of the standard news.  He really does need to learn how to read a paper properly!

When we got to our stop, we got out and walked to the place where the play was being held, a stroll that took a good half-hour.  The Tall South African called me while we were walking, but I declined his call, preferring to talk to Roofie's Brother instead.  I told him stories about taking Cookie out to dinner to meet men, and of my sorority days at university, which he seemed to find incredibly amusing.

We arrived at the church where the play was being held (I think we were both surprised to discover it was a church), and were quickly greeted by all of the others who were attending.  Sister Fister was there and monopolised him immediately, but I've come to expect this so I didn't really care.  I got a great surprise when I discovered that Scottish Lawyer Guy was there, and so had a good time chatting and catching up with him a bit.  He's really such a charming and interesting guy, I forget that at times.

The group all found seats together, and I found myself seated in between Sweedy and Roofie's Brother.    Strangely, although there was plenty of room on both sides of our seats, I found Roofie's Brother subtly leaning into me for the entire duration of the play.  All down one side, from our shoulders to our legs, were pressed against each other, as though we were squeezed into too tight a space.  Almost as an experiment, I would periodically shift in my seat to see what he would do, but he always kept leaning back into me, almost as though it were an unconscious action.  Kind of cute, really.

The play itself was very obviously an amateur production, but they'd really given it their all, and everyone spoke in the humorous, stilted manner that is so distinctive of Oscar Wilde.  The basic plot was about a young dandy about to be married, but his future mother-in-law insisted that he have his palm read by a man who swore he could forsee the future in it.  The palmist then declared that he would one day commit a murder, so in the bizarre manner of Oscar Wild, the young man decided that he would have to commit his murder in the next week, before he got married.  All manner of comedy of errors ensued...

Still, if we had any doubts about the professional status of the actors, there was one moment towards the very end of the play, when one of the lead actors very obviously forgot his line.  The two actors speaking to each other just absolutely stared at each other for nearly 30 seconds (someone in our crowd timed it), while you could see the sweat forming on their brows as they desperately tried to remember their next line.  It was hilarious when the one chap remembered the line, which happened to be, "I forgot to tell you...."  The entire audience absolutely burst out laughing uncontrollably, it was so wonderfully ironic!

After the play ended, the group all went out to the local bus stop, figuring to catch a bus to the nearest station.  The wait turned out to be over 20 minutes however, and the night was cold.  While I still tried to figure out what everyone was doing, half the group disappeared around a corner to go to another bus stop, Sister Fister wandered off in another direction, and suddenly only myself and Roofie's Brother were still standing there, shivering in the cold.  Kind of amusing, we'd been so busy paying attention to each other that we'd lost everybody else!

Sister Fister hadn't gone far however, and we discovered that she'd called a cab to the nearby station, so we figured we might as well just go with her.  I think poor Roofie's Brother had lost all thought of anything at this point beyond how cold he was, and just wanted to go home.  I had to admit, I was tired as well, and just wanted to go home to bed.  We rode on the train, and I was a bit surprised when at an earlier stop than I expected, without saying anything, Roofie's Brother planted a quick kiss on my mouth and jumped off the train.  Strange.

I then found myself travelling a bit further with Sister Fister, continuing to make conversation with her, which just reinforced my opinion of how nuts she is.  She kept talking about how she was flipping out throughout the play, as being in the crowds with all those people around was making her go mental.  I've heard about people like that, who are uncomfortable in crowds, although I imagine it must make it very hard for her to cope on a day-to-day basis living in London.  Ah well, glad that's one problem I don't have.  Still, I have to admit I was glad when we reached my stop, I was able to bid her goodnight, and head on home to my own bed!

Chancery Lane Run

Chatting to people at the drinks stop

This evening's run was being held at Chancery Lane, and I was looking forward to getting out for a run on a sunny evening, even if the weather wasn't quite warm enough yet for me to ditch my long sleeves.

When I arrived, I spotted a girl sitting outside dressed in running kit but obviously not knowing anyone,  so being my usual friendly self, I started chatting to her and introducing her to people.  Which then led more newbies to figure that I was the friendly person to talk to, until I was chatting and making conversation with a group of about five new people.  Nice, as I always like to be welcoming.  

The run started, and I found myself running for nearly the entire run with Snotty Bot.  I was pleased with myself for being able to keep a steady pace with her, although part of the reason I think I could keep up was that she was due to have bunion surgery in a few weeks, and so her feet must have been killing her as she ran.  Hence, between her slow pace and my unfitness, we were well-matched to pace together.  

Alas, that meant that when we reached a drinks stop midway through the run, we didn't get any drinks because we had arrived a bit too late.  At least we still got to see the crowd and talk to people, which was nice.  

I really must have been running slowly however, as when I got back to the pub, I wasn't really tired.  I wanted to talk to Roofie's Brother (as I usually do post-run), but I got distracted by all of the virgins who wanted to talk to me, given that I was so friendly to them.  I also became quite distracted chatting to a South African rugby player who had come for the first time last week.  He didn't strike me as being that bright, but after I turned out a little charm, he quickly became putty in my hands.  So I chatted and flirted with him for a while, until suddenly Sweetheart and Roofie's Brother came up and said that they wanted to go grab some dinner, and wanted me to come with them.  How funny, that the one time I'd actually like to stay and chat with another guy, I'm being pulled away by Roofie's Brother.  

So I said my good-byes to the South African rugby player, who then started joking about whether we were in a two-kiss or three-kiss situation, and then just started giving me tons of kisses on each cheek (as he obviously really wanted to kiss me!)

The South African rugby player

I then left with Sweetheart and Roofie's Brother, where we explored a few dinner options, before going to another pub where we realised we could quickly grab steak dinners if we ordered them before 10 PM.  

I had a good time chatting with Roofie's Brother, where he explained that he's living in the flat attached to his office, but it has been reserved by another company on Mondays and Tuesdays, so on those nights he stays at Sister Fister's place.  Which suddenly made so much more of their dynamic clear to me, as he sometimes seems annoyed by her incredible clinginess, but he of course has to make sure to keep her happy as she's doing him such a huge favour by letting him live with her two days a week all summer.  Very interesting to chat to him, and just made a lot of things clearer.  

The post-run circle

I was then curious about another group of people dressed in running kit in the pub, so since I like talking to strangers, I went up and asked them what they'd been up to that evening.  Turns out they'd been playing netball, and having contests to eat three water crackers as fast as they could (trying for under a minute).  This sounded like the strangest sort of contest ever, but I guess it's something that British students in pubs must do, for Roofie's Brother suddenly announced himself to be a champion at this.  They had three crackers remaining in their pack, so a timer was set, and Roofie's Brother began eating like a furious little squirrel.  He didn't quite break the minute mark, but was very close to it.  Surprisingly quick, although the challenge seems to be to get it all down without water.  What a strange game!

We then waved off our new friends, and headed him, bellies full after a good dinner!

Late Office and Movie Night

After a gym session this morning, I had to shower and go into the office, although I called my mother to wish her a happy birthday whilst I changed and got dressed.  And I discovered that I fit into an old pantsuit that I hadn't worn in years, making me think that all of this dieting and gym effort might actually be worth it if I fit into my clothes again.  It's like I went shopping, but in my own closet, for free!

I made my way into the office, found a desk, and then got a random IM message from a girl on my larger team who needed help, and she happened to be upstairs in the office.  I never get to actually see people on my team, so I went upstairs and talked through it with her.  Solved the problem in five minutes, another advantage of actually talking face-to-face with people.

Then I went and found the next guy I needed to talk to, and we ran through a demo that I needed to work on in the "Innovation Centre", which I had never been inside of before, which was really cool.  Had just a good session, so that by the time I was talking to the Managing Director of my team later on in the afternoon, he was just shaking his head about how on top of everything I was and how together I was.  I'm just good like that...

I wrote to Roofie's Brother, just to give him a pointless laugh for the day, which it did, and I engaged in some back-and-forth banter with him throughout the rest of the day.  Ever since my conversation with The Blonde, it's really clicked for me about him.  Realising that our whole flirtation is never actually going to go anywhere, so it doesn't make sense to stress about it, I should just enjoy it for the minor thrills it gives me throughout the work day.  Plus, after talking with the Tall South African, I realised that I need to play to my strengths.  So many boys who are such players with all other women are so sweetly devoted to me, I think because of my wit and charm, combined with my absolute lack of regard for what they thing, along with an unwillingness to be one of those wimpy girls who is so eager-to-please.  And so I've just started playing Roofie's Brother that way, charming him and making him laugh, but not actually caring about whether he responds, and I find more and more he comes to heel.  I guess there's a reason Joel says I have too many puppies.

At the end of the work day, I took a call from the Tall South African, who wanted me to come on this road trip from hell for his birthday, and seemed frustrated that I wasn't willing to go along with it.  But seriously, the original plan was to go kayaking in France with a mix of guys and girls.  Now, because he hasn't gotten his act together, the plan has morphed into a road trip to The Hague in Holland to the Lovely Dutch Girl's house, with the annoying "girlfriend", The Blonde (oh boy, your current girlfriend and your ex on the same trip?) and another random girl I don't know.  Can you think of any road trip that sounds more hellish?

He said that what he really wanted to do for his birthday was just go off, only the two of us, and drink whiskey.  To which I pointed out, "You want to spend more time with me than the girl you're dating.  Doesn't something strike you as wrong about that?"

I can tell recently that the Tall South African is getting a few things confused in his head.  I know at the beginning I thought I wanted to date him, but now I really don't.  And it seems at this point he is realising that he likes spending time with me more than any other girl, and so of course treating me like a psuedo-girlfriend.  I'm the one he wants to talk to when he'd down and depressed, I'm the one he wants to spend endless days with.

Except there is this exceedingly frustrated part of me that wants to stamp my feet and say, "But I am NOT your girlfriend!"

To be fair, I know I use him in a lot the same way too, to always have a date, someone to go to dinner with, to chat for hours over drinks with, to just be the guy in my life.  But he must remember that there are these boundaries...

At the end of the work day, I got a call from Sweetheart, wanting to know what I was up to that evening.  I told him I'd been invited to a "singles people get-together" event, although as I was still stuck in the office working on things, I was starting to doubt that I would leave in time to go.  So I promised to call him when I was leaving, which indeed turned out to be over an hour after the start of the event (meaning I would arrive over two hours late), so at that point I really just wanted to go home.

When I got there, he called.  "Want to come over and watch a movie?"  So I threw a bottle of wine and some fruit in a bag, threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, and went over to his.

We chose to watch "The Impossible", a movie about a family that survived the Southeast Asian tsunami in 2009.  It was strange, because I remembered the news being dominated by that story at the time, and yet here watching the movie, I realised that there was so much that I didn't know about the actual event.

It was a really good film actually, and as per usual, we stuck around afterwards Googling information about the actual family the film was based on, and watching interviews with the mother and the actress who played her.  As he texted me later when I got home, "the post-film discussion is the best part of movie night!"

The one thing I found odd however, was that when he handed the computer over to me (as I'm just better and quicker at typing and Googling things), he had multiple tabs open, so I could read the other web pages he had recently been looking at.  Some were normal, like his e-mail, and then one was VERY obviously a porn site, with the title "{Famous Porn Star} doing naughty slutty things in black leather!"  Ugh.  I know all men watch porn, but I thought it was sort of an unspoken agreement between men and women, that men will hide their porn from us, and we'll pretend not to know about it.  Definitely made me very uncomfortable to know what he'd likely been doing right before I came over for movie night!

Still, at least our own relationship remains exceedingly platonic, so at around 1 AM, he gave me a kiss and a pat on the behind, and sent me home.  All in all, not a bad way to spend a Friday night...

Mortons

This evening was a drinks party being hosted by the Blonde Dutchman for his company.  He doesn't start these events until 9 PM, which always seems so late to me, but on this occasion, I was stuck late working anyway, and so his advertisement of an "after-work drinks party" turned out to be quite accurate.  

I got a text from The Blonde saying that she was out with another guy at the RAC for drinks, and invited me to join them for a pre-party drink, but I was struggling too much with work to make it there.  As it was, it was nearly 9:30pm before I made it to the club.

The club was one of these modern exclusive member's clubs, with a nightclub in the basement.  When I arrived, I told the desk staff who I was meeting, and they gave me a drinks card and ushered me right in.  I got downstairs, greeted the Blonde Dutchman (first time I'd seen him since Portugal, in fact), and after chatting to him for a while, got myself a drink.  I was grateful for the free drinks card, as it turns out that even a mere glass of wine at this place was £12.  Yikes, I'd never heard of a more over-priced bar!  I resolved to nurse that one glass of wine throughout the evening, as there was no way I was going to pay those prices...

I chatted to various people until I spotted the American arrive.  He didn't know anyone else there, and so talked to me for a while, being that I was the one person he knew.  Plus, I get the feeling he actually likes talking to me, and teasing me about not being quite as "red-blooded" an American as he is.  

This led to us having a conversation about my plans to apply for dual citizenship, and him declaring his refusal to do it (even though he will also soon be qualified after many years of living here).  I nearly choked on my drink then when he said, "citizenship is like a relationship, it should be monogamous." Dude, you did not really just use that example with me...did you?  I mean, you understand who is talking here, right?  I teased him about some men's more "nuanced" view towards monogamy, although  not specifically outright saying that he cheats more than any other man I know.  

He then explained that he doesn't want to get dual citizenship, because at some point he plans on returning to the US and going into politics.  Which to be fair, makes sense.  And even worse, I know he'll be good at it, being a good-looking, handsome guy with his background as a lawyer, and being a good public speaker.  And of course, he will cheat like crazy, which will make him just like every other politician out there.  God, what a stereotype.  

I had been nursing my one free drink, although randomly was bought a shot of Jaegermeister by this guy who wanted to buy a round of shots of the group (how expensive that was, I don't even want to know), and then the American bought me a drink out of politeness when he was getting another for himself.  I almost refused, as drinks at this place were so expensive I knew I wouldn't be buying a return round, but then I thought, "I had sex with you once, so I figure the least you owe me in return is a drink!"  Definitely made me feel less guilty about it!  

I then chatted with the Lovely Dutch Girl for a bit about our mutual friend the Tall South African, agreeing that he's generally being an arsehole to women these days, but then again, that's just how he is.  I also got a chance to talk to Sophie a bit, although the conversation was mostly about her lack of prospects on the horizon of her love life.  Kind of dull, to be honest.  

Finally, as it was past midnight and I didn't want to miss the last train home at 12:30 AM, I concluded that The Blonde was never going to make it over from the RAC, and I should just leave while I could still get home and to my bed relatively easily.  Plus, the music had gotten really loud at this point and conversations could only be had by shouting directly into people's ears.  I never understand why the Blonde Dutchman keeps having parties for people to "get to know each other" in places where you can't talk to them, but so it goes.  Hence, I said my good-byes, and made my way home...

Zombie Run

Zombies in London

This evening was a "Zombie Run" at the running club this evening, where everyone was supposed to dress as Zombies for a run around London.  

The day unfortunately was cold and rainy, and as I spent the day e-mailing back-and-forth with Roofie's Brother, he suggested it might be wise to bundle up for the run.  I did enjoy our banter however, as I've found that ever since my conversation with The Blonde, it's much easier to deal with him.  He likes me and enjoys my wit, and it never really goes anywhere, but I can still like the fact that he responds to every e-mail I write.  

Setting off on the run

When I arrived at the pub, completely without adornment, I found that there was an entire make-up crew in the back, so I went and got my face painted.  A white face, black eyes, and as a finishing touch, fake red "blood" spilling down my forehead and from the corners of my mouth.  Roofie's Brother arrived shortly afterwards, having run up and down the embankment a few times, not realising that the pub was actually a dry-docked ship in the river.  He was all sweaty, my face was painted, and we had a few others standing there as an audience, so we couldn't kiss each other hello, but I didn't worry about that.  

I was right near Kellogg Boy's house, so I sent him a text to say that I was nearby, to which he replied that he was still at work.  So I sent him a picture of me in zombie face-paint.  That got him to laugh, but he was still at work.  

Me in my face paint

We set off on the run in the pouring rain, and I fell into step with the Scottish Lawyer Guy, who seemed keen to talk to me as we trotted along.  I have to say, normally I hate it when people run with me, because I always struggle to keep up with their pace.  Admittedly with Scottish Lawyer Guy, we weren't exactly zipping along, but I was pleased to say that all of my running at the gym must be helping, as I was doing okay with keeping up with him.  

With the London Eye in the background

Plus, it was nice to talk to him, something I haven't gotten a chance to do in a while.  At the pub we had just started at, they were doing a talk called "Pint of Science", which Scottish Lawyer Guy told me he'd signed up for at a few other pubs later on in the week.  It seemed like a really cool idea, a science talk over pints at a pub.  Plus, he's exactly the kind of guy who would be into that, he's really an intelligent and interesting guy.  I should talk to him more often.

We ran to Parliament Square, where we stopped and took a photo of the group with Big Ben in the background, and I found myself laughing and bumping into Roofie's Brother, doing our usual little flirtation.  Although as we ran across Waterloo Bridge, one guy had a good laugh at my slow pace, saying, "I know we're Zombies, but you don't need to be shuffling now!"  Oh dear, how I wish I could run faster!

Shuffling zombies

As we ran through a park, the hare of the run let us know that since we were all soaked through to the bone and chilled, that we were instead going to run straight to a park where there was a "drinks" stop (Jello shots!) and then we would be right near the pub to run back.  

So we stood around the park having Jello shots of blood, snapped a few photos of ourselves looking drenched and wet and miserable, and then dashed back to the pub, where our soaking wet selves packed into a small space quickly turned the place into a sauna.  

Soaking wet zombies

They passed out face-wipes so that we could clean our faces, so I did the best I could manage with a dark mirror in a corner, and then when Roofie's Brother came in, I cleaned his face as well.  Strangely intimate, running your hands all over someone else's face.  I guess that's why actors always try to have good relationships with their make-up artists.

Jello shots

I got drinks for both myself and Roofie's Brother, as is becoming our habit, although I did make fun of him for wanting a Coors Light, which is a beer that all Americans mock.  We then went outside for the circle, huddled under a small tent in the rain.  Cold and shivering, when I saw The Cyclist, I wrapped my arms around him, and was quickly rewarded when he pulled me into a more proper embrace, warming me up.  Of course then, he's such a gentleman that he took off his coat and draped it around me, keeping me warm.  Admittedly, it wasn't quite the snuggles that I wanted, but he was just so solicitous of me, I often think that I should pay more attention to him.  Yes, he's young, but he's so sweet.

Can we go back to the pub now?

After the circle, we came back inside, Roofie's Brother got me another drink in return for our round, and then a small group of us decided to break away and go to another pub down the street.  So we went there, I texted Kellogg Boy about the new location (still at work, he replied), and so with Sweetheart, Pork Pie, Roofie's Brother, Kitty, and the Kiwi Girl, we all found a large table in the back of this new pub.  

It was nice to get to spend some time chatting with Pork Pie, to be honest, who I haven't seen in ages, but who is running again because he recently broke his arm and so now can't play football on Tuesday nights.  He amuses me so, I wish I saw more of him, but he's got something going on in that thick head of his that I don't understand.  He's always so excited to see me, but then almost seems weirdly to avoid me once he does see me.  It's baffling, but then sometimes boys just don't make any sense.  Even here, sitting right next to him on a bench, I couldn't avoid the weird "push-pull" dynamics that were going on, as he always seemed to be turning away from me in conversation despite sitting right next to me, yet continually still wanting to sit next to me every time we shifted around.  Weird.

Pork Pie then went around trying to figure out who was hooking up with who.  Sweetheart admitted to having slept with The Blonde in the past (which I could confirm), and then Roofie's Brother acted outraged and disgusted when Pork Pie implied that he was hooking up with Sister Fister.  In truth, as much time as they spend together, I've never suspected anything romantic between the two of them.  A very sibling-like relationship, like with me and the Young Dutchman.  I also then got to hear a bit more about Kitty's relationship with her Kiwi man, which I was surprised to learn that although he's pushing 40, she's having some trouble getting a serious commitment out of him.  But I was surprised and impressed therefore, when she said that she'd very clearly told him that he had another year before they were going to move in together or moving their relationship forwards, or she was out.  She was clear on the point, "I love him, but I can't allow him to waste my time."  So many girls aren't that clear-headed in relationships, so I was really impressed.  

At last however, we decided to head home, and so all went to the Tube.  At the last minute, Roofie's Brother and Sister Fister decided to skip the Tube and just take a cab home, as he was staying at hers that night and it was only a 5-minute cab ride away.  So he rushed down and gave me a quick awkward kiss, and he was off.  

The rest of us went down to the Tube, where as we were sitting there, Sweetheart started to comment on my running face make-up.  (I'd checked in the pub bathrooms, and my best efforts at cleaning my face with those face wipes hadn't amounted to much.  Soap and water and a good scrub didn't do much better, I knew I looked like a freak).  And so he started asking our group, "Who is it that she looks like?  You know, that rocker who was in Wayne's World?  That guy, with the eye make-up, that guy, you know?"

We were all utterly perplexed, and kept throwing out names, to no avail.  "Gene Simmons?  David Lee Roth?  David Bowie?"

He shook his head.  "No no, that's not it.  You know, that rocker guy.  From Wayne's World.  That guy."  

Sitting next to him now was some random guy, listening to music on his "beats" by Dr Dre headphones, off in his own world, as any normal person on the Tube would be.  But Sweetheart just leaned over, picked one of the earphones up off of his head, and asked, "Who is that rocker that she looks like?"

With barely a glance up, the guy didn't miss a beat as he replied, "Alice Cooper", as though people asked him random trivia questions on the Tube all of the time.  Credit to the guy, that was absolutely the right answer!  So who knew that when you don't have access to Google, the answer is just to ask random people sitting next to you on the Tube.  It cracked us all up.

Zombies in the rain

I wrote this story to Roofie's Brother to pass the time on my last unaccompanied bit of journey home, and he wrote back first thing the next morning laughing and apologising for leaving, as it was such a funny story.  Again, proving that all I have to do is be witty and funny and he thinks I'm marvellous.

Our group then had to part ways, as I got off the train with all of the girls, still laughing hysterically, and then even more so when the Kiwi Girl decided to give me raspberry kisses.  Oh my gosh, they tickled, and what weirdo gives their friends raspberry kisses on their cheeks!  We were in a state though, laughing and giggling all over the place, I'm sure the crowds on the platform thought we were nuts.  Great end to a fun night though!

Lunch with Hong Kong Boy and His Girlfriend

The Australian Girlfriend and Hong Kong Boy

I made plans today to catch up with a couple that I know through the Young Dutchman, and who I like very much on their own as well.  I spent last year entertaining Hong Kong Boy on his birthday while his Australian girlfriend was back home Down Under, and as his birthday had recently past (she took care of the entertainment this time), I was still keen to see them and catch up.

I joined them at a nearby pub (they live locally to me) for lunch at 12:30, where I was pleased that after a rash of rotten weather, they were sitting out in the sunshine when I arrived.  At last, a sunny day in London!

We had squid starters and some amazing burgers, and we chatted about upcoming events, including Ascot, Henley, our favourite Young Dutchman, and the ball that I'm planning in June. It was really just such a pleasure hanging out and talking with them, I had forgotten how much I truly enjoyed their company.

Unfortunately, after sitting out in the sun in just our t-shirts, clouds rolled in making us chilly, and just before we were going to have dessert, we felt the first rain drops.  We were too tempted by dessert however, and so moved inside to continue the conversation and indulge our sweet tooth.

This burger was amazing, with pulled pork on it!

After lunch, after all the talk about Ascot, I wanted to go find a new hat, and so we went to a few charity shops and a store that sold vintage clothing, although the prices absolutely made my eyes water. I can't imagine spending several hundred pounds on a dress, new or vintage!

Finally we parted ways, leaving me to go continue looking through thrift shops for hats.  To my surprise, I never found one I liked in any of the shops, but found one absolutely perfect one for just £17 at TK Maxx, a black-and-cream coloured number.

Which then of course required a dress to go with it, and I just by chance found an absolutely perfect one.  A bit snug, perhaps, but it zipped up, and I think might provide just the right motivation to continue going to the gym and working out.

I got home intending to go to the gym, but realised since it was Sunday it was already quite late in the day.  Right as I was debating this however, I got a call from the Tall South African, who was out at a pub with Lotte and a few others.  Realising it was less than 30 minutes away by bus, I changed and went out to meet him.

When I arrived, the girls had left for some reason, so I found myself just sitting there chatting with him and a French/Mexican guy that I know though him.  The French/Mexican guy is a huge computer nerd, so we actually get on quite well, and so enjoyed spending time hanging out and talking.

The boys actually spent quite a bit of time treating me like one of the boys, talking about cheating, their thoughts on it, and quite how frequently they've done it.  Knowing boys like these, while they are entertaining, does discourage me a bit about men in general.  Because you realise that the boys who are tall, good-looking and who can pick up women with ease don't really feel all that bound by thoughts of monogamy.  It's much more of a "as long as she doesn't find out about it, it's okay" kind of situation.  Which does make me wonder how many men are faithful simply out of a lack of opportunity to be otherwise.

It was one of the stories The Blonde told me on Friday night, where she told the tale of meeting one of the guys who is now a regular in our running club for the first time in Milan.  She saw he had a ring on his left hand, but when she asked about it he told her that it was a fraternity ring.  He majorly put the moves on her and tried to kiss her, but she just wasn't interested in him in general, thinking merely that he was a nice guy.  So imagine her shock a few weeks later then, chatting to a lovely girl at a running club party, and discovering that the girl was this guy's wife.

As she said to me, "What was he thinking?  What would he have done if I'd reciprocated his interest?  Just dated me and hung out with me at running club events?  How could that not have blown up in his face?"  She said at a later party, he found her alone and apologised for his actions, and she promised never to blow his cover.  Yet it made me reconsider why I see them at the same events so much and never speaking.  I had thought it a bit strange then, now I know why.

I think what it comes down to, as I was talking to these boys, is that men tend to only think in the moment too much, without thinking through the consequences.  When they're with a girl, they're with her, and not thinking about who might be waiting for them elsewhere.  It's one of the things that is definitely true of the Tall South African.  When he's in the moment, he's in it, but there's no thought about anything else anywhere.

We then walked back to Lotte's place, where we had cake (yum!) and chatted to Lotte and the girl that the Tall South African is currently seeing (but he refuses to call her his girlfriend).  Luckily we didn't have to stay too long, before walking back to South Kensington to catch the bus and Tube home.  The Tall South African's girl was wearing the most ridiculous outfit and shoes, so of course he wanted to walk all of the way home with her.  Poor girl.  Glad that I just got to hop on a bus and go home in my nice comfy trainers!

Long Day with the Tall South African

When my phone rang at 10 AM, I turned over with a groan, but also sure that I knew exactly who was ringing at that hour.  Who else could it be?  A glance at my phone also revealed that he'd been texting me since 8:30 AM to see if I was awake.  That boy is such a puppy sometimes...

I agreed to meet him at Bond Street after I'd gotten showered and dressed, and I was leaving my flat, discovered that he'd sent me a postcard from his recent visit to Italy.  He really is a sweet boy...

From Bond Street, we took the Tube out to Greenwich, where they had docked some Royal Navy air craft carrier.  It wasn't nearly as big as some US air craft carriers I've seen, but still rather impressive.  And the Tall South African is such a boy that of course he wanted to go on it.  Why do boys love big boats so much?  Right up there with cars, guns and planes.

When we went to the end of the queue however, we learned that the current waiting time was 2-3 hours to get on the ship (as they had to take small groups in a boat out to the ship, there was no connection from land), and even then there was no guarantee that we would manage to get on the ship before it closed for the end of the day.

Thinking we had better things to do with our time, we decided to take the Thames Clipper down the river to Embankment.  It's funny, as you don't normally travel on the river that cuts through the middle of London, but it's quite fun when you do.  We sat out in the back of the boat so we could experience the wind whipping by, and just enjoy the boat trip.

Once at Embankment, I led him up towards Leicester Square to go for burgers at Byron's.  We'd started talking about them whilst down in Greenwich, and the more we talked about them, the more I wanted them.  This place makes such good burgers, well beyond whatever frozen crap you get as typical pub fare.  So we had burgers, fries and milkshakes, and were insanely happy.  It's funny sometimes how getting just what you want (particularly when you were starving) will make your day.

After our bellies were full, we went to Lilywhites (a sporting good store) to look at running shoes for him, although the place was crowded and he wasn't keen to really spend a lot of time there.  Although what boy ever really does enjoy shopping?

We then went to a nearby bookstore to look for potential presents for my mother, although we still didn't find anything in particular that I liked.  Although I could have stayed in the store for hours, just spending time in bookstores is so much fun!

After the bookstore, we then went to the Apple store to play with the new iPads, which I have to admit I am very tempted by.  As per usual, we were just enjoying each other's company, hanging out, having him jokingly steer me through the crowds (he's so big, people just get out of his way), and walking around.

We then walked to Knightsbridge, where we parted ways at Harrods so he could go and change for a dinner that he was going out to that evening.  I made my way down to Hammersmith, where I looked for hats for Ascot, but found nothing.  Yet I did find a cute dress that would do well for the summer polo season at TKMaxx, so that was a nice treat.

I then walked home, trying to motivate to go to the gym, but after a day of so much walking, I was done in!

Catching up with The Blonde

At the last minute I went down to Clapham to join The Blonde at a house party, which was your standard scene of beer in the kitchen, people outside smoking, and too many people crammed into the living room.  People were friendly, although most were musicians we struggled to find much in common with to talk about.  After a while we got bored and went back to hers (she lived around the corner) and just sat on the sofa chatting.

As we were talking about boys, we talked a bit about Roofie's Brother, and The Blonde told me about a conversation she'd had once with Angel about Roofie and his brother, and who would be the last to get married.  Surprising (to me, anyway), was the answer that Roofie himself would get married before his brother, given that I'd always thought of Roofie as the bigger player, much more so than his brother.

She told me then about a girl he'd been dating a while back, who apparently he wasn't that into, but she was so eager-to-please and kept buying him things that he kept her around out of laziness more than anything else.  Apparently he doesn't really want a relationship, but just likes to have a girl around.  It was a really interesting insight into his personality and character.

Suddenly, it's much like seeing a chess game, where you plot out all of the moves in your head, and you realise that the only way to win is to play to a draw.  I can never sleep with him, I can never give in, I can never become the eager-to-please type who will lose his interest.

Yet, I know how to play this game.  With the Tall South African or the Young Dutchman, here I have two very big players who have women hanging off them constantly, who call me all of the time and are endlessly devoted to me, because I've always been witty and entertaining and just out of reach.  Yes, it's not a romantic attachment, but they are both devoted to me in a way that they are not to any other girl, which I think I've managed by playing on my wits the way I have.  Funny, it's right when you figure the game out that you realise it's rigged.

So yes, this will mean giving up on this one, knowing it won't go anywhere, but yet at least I suppose I can still have him around for entertainment value.  It's nice getting kisses from him and having him pay attention to me when he sees me.  Flirting is fun, so I intend to keep that up, but without expectation that anything else will happen.  Let's face it, having a cute boy around is helpful for the ego, at least.  I may not win the game, but I won't lose it either.

We also chatted about all of the men in her life, and I was once again reminded of how differently The Blonde handles interactions with boys than I do.  We were talking about Ginger Lawyer Guy, who I like, but have never taken seriously as a prospect for me, ever since he made a drunken pass at me, assuming that I might just go home and have sex with him.  Turns out that The Blonde has stayed over his a few times (as you might after a late night), just wanting perhaps a cuddle in bed, but getting so annoyed by his persistent demands for sex that she just gave in and did it.  On quite a few different occasions.

In fact, as we ran through the list, it seemed like every time I'd held out and turned a guy down, she'd given in to him.  Almost to the point where I wanted to ask how on earth she'd progressed what would have otherwise been a mild flirtation to sex so quickly!  I probably could stand to learn to do a little more of that...

Yet one comment caught me as being kind of sad.  I know the Tall South African had mentioned that for a girl who had sex so frequently, she didn't actually seem to enjoy it that much.  And she talked about a holiday that she'd gone on with a male friend, where they actually did end up cuddling and just taking their time in bed, not actually having sex but just exploring how erotic touch can be.  Which, quite frankly is I think why I haven't actually gone through with having sex with so many guys, but just "playtime" instead.  And I enjoy it all so much more.  Yet, she seemed so wistful as she told me about it, like that was the one and only time she'd experienced that.

Finally at around 2 AM, it was pouring rain outside, so I called a cab and went home.  To be home in minutes, out of the rain, for a mere £20 was entirely worth it to me, but I also felt a bit bad as we'd talked about her challenges of having gone from being a medical researcher to a nanny, trying to set up her own business.  And of course, how funds were that much tighter as a result, whilst I think nothing of spending £20 on a cab.  But yet, it's a luxury that's nice to have...

Sunshine Missed Run

I guess it shows how my attitude towards running has changed, for this week I was truly dissapointed to miss the run.  It was happening near where I live, and the weather was stunningly gorgeous out, with the sun shining brightly.

Yet, as Chairman of the YM's at the club, I had to be there to run the meeting, so there was nothing for it but to show up.  It seemed a bit of a waste, as there were only four of us at the meeting, but at least that allowed me to race through the agenda in record time.

After the meeting was over, I went to the pub where the run was being held, rather hoping on some level that I might get to catch up with Roofie's Brother.  We'd exchanged a few e-mails the day before, so he knew I couldn't make it until later, and I know he's been insanely busy with work these days, but one still hopes.  I wore a nice dress, just in case.

When I arrived however, I immediately got caught up with the crowds outside, barely able to make my way inside or anywhere without running into someone else who wanted to talk to me, and so I wasn't able to spot if Roofie's Brother was around anywhere.  And I hated being the girl who is distracted, looking out for a boy, not fully concentrating on my conversation with The Blonde or anyone else.  Particularly as The Blonde seemed quite keen to talk to me, although not in front of the crowds.  Eventually as we parted she insisted that we needed to have a catch-up this weekend, which rather makes me wonder what might be up there.  Still, I do have to admit, I enjoy catching up with her too, so I shall have to make sure we find some time this weekend.

I finally concluded that Roofie's Brother wasn't there, and so found myself however in the company of The Cyclist, who I'd first really started to get to know at the Casino Night a while back.  I have to admit, I'm a bit wary of him, as I live in fear of getting into another CBDG situation.  As this guy is tall, handsome....really easy on the eyes, if I'm honest....and yet I know he's young, and I worry about whether he's clever enough to keep up with me.  Still, I suppose a little harmless flirting never hurt anyone, so I spent a while chatting with him while he told me really corny jokes and puns, which I had to admit, made me laugh.

He seems relatively keen (took quite a few excuses to get close to me and touch me), and I have to admit, it's nice to have a cute boy who seems to like you around.  Still, when he wasn't immediately nearby to say good-bye to at the end of the evening, I didn't make an effort to go find him.  I've been burned by this sort of thing before, seems wise to keep it light and casual, particularly given that my real interests lie elsewhere.

It was reassuring then, when on impulse I e-mailed Roofie's Brother the next morning, just a little one-liner to make him laugh, we ended up e-mailing back-and-forth throughout the day.  It was very funny, because as I read his e-mails back to me, I realised that he has the absolute worst e-mail chat ever.  It's like I can see the pattern, where my e-mails are entertaining and amusing, so he wants to respond, but he has no idea what to write.  Each e-mail had one line responding to each point I'd made in mine, whether it made sense to say anything in reply or not.  So when he finally finished at the end of the day with "Have a good eve", I chuckled and shut down my computer for the day.  I think I'm finally learning to read it how he meant it ("I have no idea what else to write") rather than how it sounds, ("I need to shut you up now").  Who knows?  Maybe he's not smart enough either, but it's nice that he wants to stay in the game, at least...

Canadian's Leaving Party

With the Canadian girl, Sister Fister and Sweedy

This evening was the leaving party for a Canadian girl in my running club, and although I might not be tremendously close to her, I'd already checked with Roofie's Brother, and he said he was looking forward to seeing me there.  So even though it was all of the way across town, why not go?

The party wasn't due to begin until 9 PM (so late for a party so far away!) and yet somehow I took so long getting ready that I still arrived a half-hour late.  Yet at least I'd made it there in a reasonable amount of time...

Ginger Lawyer Guy and Roofie's Brother

Among the first people I saw were Roofie's Brother and Sister Fister, so I greeted her first (to which she exlaimed, "You look HOT!"  Ummm...thanks?)  Then I turned and greeted Roofie's Brother.  Although we always kiss each other on the lips when saying good-bye, we've always been of the habit of kissing each other on the cheek to say hello, so I went in for his cheek but he went for my lips, and we sort of met on the lips.  Ooops, awkward!  So now I'd started the evening out by making him self-concious, when obviously he was remembering our last meeting and was still quite keen.

I was surprised when throughout the evening, quite a few others commented on how much weight I've lost because I've been so hard-core at the gym these days.  Which I always have mixed feelings about, because I've been working hard and it's nice that the results can be seen, but when people directly comment that you've lost weight, it makes you think, "Jeez, how fat was I before?"

With the Canadian, Sister Fister, The Blonde, and Sweedy

I spent most of the evening chatting with loads of people, although trying to stay close and talk to Roofie's Brother when I could.  I didn't get a huge amount of opportunity however, as Sister Fister had earlier announced her intentions to get wasted that evening, and so she was either dancing like an absolute maniac (I wish I had her energy!), or by the end of the evening was seeming quite tearful, lonely and depressed, which is when she always ends up monopolising Roofie's Brother.  Who to his credit, always tries to be a good friend and be supportive, but I wonder why so many boys tolerate those manic mood swings in girls.

The Blonde kept wanting to pull me aside to chat as well, for some reason really wanting to talk about the Tall South African and how his life choices are driving her nuts.  Equally, I explained that this was not something she really should get worked up about, as he was a smart boy who knew perfectly well what he was doing, but simply wasn't mature enough to change course yet.

With Sweedy and Angel

She did express quite a bit of concern for the emotions of the girls he's involved with, but I think the same argument could be made for the emotions of the boys she's involved with.  I explained to her that I'd had the "campsite rule" conversation with him, explaining that break-ups are always hard, and people get hurt, but you just have to try to leave them with no permanent consequences or undue emotional trauma.  In truth, looking back at my own exes, although they generally behaved like immature arses, rarely were they truly mean or devious.  It's a tough thing though, because I'm well aware that the Tall South African is a bit of an arsehole.  He continually reminds me that he's not really a nice person.  And he isn't...except to me, who he is more fiercely loyal to than a guard dog.  So am I as blind to his faults as many people are to their own dogs?

We then did some dancing, although I was more comfortable with chair-dancing, while I had to admit Roofie's Brother was cutting quite a few moves on the dance floor.  He's a much better dancer than I am, and I'll admit it's one of the things I like about him, that he's always willing to just cut loose and dance.

With Angel

I spent a while chatting to Angel, the absolutely giant guy who is a good friend of Roofie's Brother.  Very funny, as I think most women prefer him to Roofie's Brother, as he's this really funny, loud, outgoing guy.  And he's nice enough, and I enjoy his company, but given the choice between the two, I prefer the quieter, softer, gentler guy.  Not everybody needs an Alpha Male.  Still, he's good fun to hang out with!

We had a great time dancing as a lot of songs from the 90's played in the rotation, which were all songs from our high school days, definitely hitting up the nostalgia.  Yet finally at 2 AM, the last song played up, and the small band of survivors remaining had to decide what to do next.

Roofie's Brother made noises about potentially having an after-party at his, but I could see that wasn't going to go well, as Sister Fister was getting hugely emotional, the Canadian was quite drunk, and the crowd was acting like herding cats.  So, although I would have enjoyed continuing the evening, I made the rounds of giving everyone kisses good-bye, saving Roofie's Brother for last when people hopefully weren't paying attention.  He gave me a nice solid kiss, and when I asked, "See you soon?" he smiled, grabbed my hand and said with a smile, "Of course!"

In the end, it took me two hours to get home via night buses across London, perhaps making me think it wasn't so wise to stay out so late.  Yet, still quite a fun night out!