Run-Away Date
Run-Away Date
I met up with Wanda in Covent Garden. It had been ages since we’ve been out together hunting men.
We went to pub Punch and Judy’s and found ourselves surrounded by hot Dutch guys. One of the hot guys asked if he could have a napkin from our table. We weren’t sure if that was his way of opening the conversation between us, or if he simply wanted a napkin. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
We both had a couple drinks. We recorded a podcast and we admired the hot guys next to us.
As the pub closing a tall blond dude named Christian offered to buy me a drink. His accent sounded German or Scandinavian. I couldn’t place it.”
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Liverpool.”
“Huh?”
“Liverpool.”
“You’re not foreign?”
“No.”
“No worries about the drink.”
I know it’s snobby but somehow he was less interesting since he wasn’t foreign. Wanda and I left the pub. We walked past the Gardening Club and pondered going in there, but since I’m jobless and on the fast train to poverty, we decided not to spend the 12 quid.
As we were walking to the tube all of a sudden I heard my name being called.
It was Christian. He wanted to chat to me. I didn’t want to leave Wanda in order to talk to him. And if came down to choosing between Wanda and the guy, I’d choose Wanda. Friends have to stick together, right?
So Wanda gives me a look that says, “He’s cute go for him.” She makes a polite excuse and then goes home.
Christian and I go into a pub. The bar was closed we go across the street to another pub that has a sizable queue. I hate queing, but I love nights that are random. I figure go with the flow.
It turns out that Christian is a property developer living in Notting Hill. His stats so far are impressive. I wondered how the night would go.
We queue for about twenty minutes. We get to the front of the queue and are led inside. Christian pulls out his wallet to pay then suddenly he turns around and runs out of the club.
No explanation. No nothing. I thought maybe he went outside to ask the doorman a question but then I see him running across the street.
So I’m standing in club like an idiot. My date just ran out on me. What the fuck?
I met up with Wanda in Covent Garden. It had been ages since we’ve been out together hunting men.
We went to pub Punch and Judy’s and found ourselves surrounded by hot Dutch guys. One of the hot guys asked if he could have a napkin from our table. We weren’t sure if that was his way of opening the conversation between us, or if he simply wanted a napkin. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
We both had a couple drinks. We recorded a podcast and we admired the hot guys next to us.
As the pub closing a tall blond dude named Christian offered to buy me a drink. His accent sounded German or Scandinavian. I couldn’t place it.”
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Liverpool.”
“Huh?”
“Liverpool.”
“You’re not foreign?”
“No.”
“No worries about the drink.”
I know it’s snobby but somehow he was less interesting since he wasn’t foreign. Wanda and I left the pub. We walked past the Gardening Club and pondered going in there, but since I’m jobless and on the fast train to poverty, we decided not to spend the 12 quid.
As we were walking to the tube all of a sudden I heard my name being called.
It was Christian. He wanted to chat to me. I didn’t want to leave Wanda in order to talk to him. And if came down to choosing between Wanda and the guy, I’d choose Wanda. Friends have to stick together, right?
So Wanda gives me a look that says, “He’s cute go for him.” She makes a polite excuse and then goes home.
Christian and I go into a pub. The bar was closed we go across the street to another pub that has a sizable queue. I hate queing, but I love nights that are random. I figure go with the flow.
It turns out that Christian is a property developer living in Notting Hill. His stats so far are impressive. I wondered how the night would go.
We queue for about twenty minutes. We get to the front of the queue and are led inside. Christian pulls out his wallet to pay then suddenly he turns around and runs out of the club.
No explanation. No nothing. I thought maybe he went outside to ask the doorman a question but then I see him running across the street.
So I’m standing in club like an idiot. My date just ran out on me. What the fuck?
Labels: Covent Garden, date, Wanda, weirdos
posted by Naive London Girl at 5/21/2007 01:16:00 AM
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