Weekend, Book 2

Close Encounters...
Ships that pass in the night...
Close but no cigar...

I won't continue..


Chapel on Sunday was interesting The choir was singing Mozart's Coronation Mass, which is one of my favourite pieces of music, sadly, the Gloria, Sanctus and Agnus Dei got off to ropey starts but got better. Also, I was sitting next to an incredibly attractive man. This NEVER happens to me in Chapel. Well, it may happen all the time but I'm so focused on the business at hand that I never notice those around me (If you believe that, you'll believe anything). So, this guy didn't have a hymnal so I offered to share mine. For a few minutes, we were singing from the same hymn sheet.
Geddit? Did you see what I did there? Hymn sheet? Singing? Oh fuck off.

Everything was fine until it came time to offer him a sign of friendship. I was almost on my knees. But purely from religious fervour. The guy in front of me turned around and offered his hand which I took and murmured "peace be with you" but the fucker squeezed my hand so painfully, I winced. The girl to my right had such a damp hand I had to rummage around for a tissue to wipe her sweat off my palm. Not good.

After chapel, I met up with Oliver who was singing that day and his lady friend who I'd only met briefly. They suggested lunch with one of the lady friend's mates. We went to the Malaysian place in St Michael's Street. The food was inoffensive and reasonably priced. The company, less so. The 'friend' was the most socially inept person I'd met in a long time. She was completely lacking in social skills and basic good manners. Fucking bitch.

After we paid, Oli and I went out and left the ladies to phaff around. Outside the restaurant was a guy holding two enormous canvases and a bag of painting supplies. We smiled at one another and he said something abut how heavy the canvases are or something. I asked if I'd know his work to which he laughed and said he's no artist. He's just moved into a new flat with bare walls and he invited some mates around to eat, drink and paint. I learnt that he was at Balliol, finished in August, is a doctor at the JR, lives in Headington, is a Star Trek fan (as am I, as long as it's the Next Generation). Oli and the girls were tired of looking in shop windows so they went off and left me to my flirting (I thought it was mutual). We chatted for a good 15 minutes. We shook hands and exchanged names and I was on the verge of giving him my card when his bint of a friend appeared. Fucking whore. The three of us chatted for a few minutes when he said they should probably go in and get a table as they were expecting 6 more people. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fortunately, I mentioned I work at the pub so hopefully, he'll come in.

Without revealing too much of my stalker tendencies, I managed to find his surname, his ex-supervisor's name, his place on the University Pool Society league table but no freakin' email . Now what?




Currently listening to: Nancy Boy by Placebo.

Currently contemplating: black eye-liner on men. Incredibly hot.