Deathly Long, Delightfully Juicy

10 02 2006

Wednesday night I was all set to work on my paper for international marketing, which is due next week. Roomie was already working hard on hers. Usually, everyone goes to Walkabout for student nights on Wednesdays but from what I’d heard, no one was going out. So I resigned myself to my paper. Then two of my favorite girls from Arizona (met them in London) walk by dressed all cute and sexy… They were planning on going to Walkabout anyway with some of the College Boys. So after a little consideration and a little more tearing through the closets for clothes, I joined them for a little pregaming in the boys’ room. After my vodka and diet coke…. The girls and their other freakishly odd roomie nicknamed ‘Puddy,’ and I all grabbed the Tube for Leicester Square. Puddy was trashed off her ass for the first time in london…We had planned on getting to Walkabout (bar/club atmosphere) early so as to get a table. 9:30 was just not early enough. The College Boys arrived pretty quickly after us. Double screwdrivers all around and the search for the hott boys begins…

So the four of us girls walk around and drag each other to new groups of boys as we seek out the cutest ones. I met one pretty cute one. Spiky hair, intense dark eyes, a decent dancer. wow. I have to say I felt pretty dumb. I asked where he is from (a requirement for the game) and he says “Uganda.” I kinda smiled like ‘riiight.‘ And he gives me a funny look and goes, “Seriously. I’m here for university.” “But isnt Uganda really poor?(yes i am drunk enough to say that. so i’m thinking: like extreme poverty?  “Well, (kinda offended a bit) not all of it is poor. I’m from(missed it. it was loud there!) the capital…” Hmmm. my bad. He is obviously one of those less than like 1% of the population there that has some money. So…. snogging for a bit… He asks for my number, and I think I just handed him my phone. So that’s how I learned his name is Alfie. Yep. Alfie. So now… Thats England, Ireland, Uganda for the map… lol

Well… I’ve got to say while we were… umm ’snogging’… the College Boys we came with walked by. Oi! I’m a little embarrassed. I guess because I still have a bit of a crush on one of them. Sure they’ve heard snippets of the stories we all have to tell but I still was not keen on them seeing me makingout with a random guy. I mean come on! I have always been proud of the fact that I am the type of girl you take home to mom. *sigh* I prefer the idea of him not having witnessed the fact that I am just like every other girl in the room. damn.

So I very quickly make my goodbyes to Alfie and search out the girls again. Some 10 minutes into my search this really good-looking guy steps into my path. He is from France. A couple of words later and we’re kissing and I hear a laugh. We are in the middle of the dancefloor and who is towering over us but those boys again! The one I kinda like nudges me as I step back from the Frenchman, “hey, what happened to…?” At this he raises his eyebrows and nods in the direction of where Alfie had been. Wow I thought “my bad.” So, in an attempt to save face I walk away from the buff frenchman without a word to him to search, once again, for the girls.

I walk upstairs. I run into the same really cute guy like 4 times. We smile – it’s too loud to talk a lot – and exchange names. He is James from Ireland. He is blonde, maybe 5′9″, easy smile and built kinda like one of my best friend’s old boyfriends. Sadly, that was all we really got to say. His friends were constantly going one way and I was still searching for my ‘leaving buddy’* for the night. She was over the balconey chatting up some guy named Ryan (well, I thought that is what he said but it was hard to hear). So I went wandering.  I just wanted to meet people.  You know how you are when you’re waste. 

I ended up back on the other side of the upstairs balcony feeling  little bored.  So I lean against this table because I am just a little tired and a random walks up.  He is really fit! (’fit’ here means the same as hot in the states) He has a great jawline and cheekbones, blonde spiky hair, and also built kinda like that ex-boyfriend, only a bit smaller. He is really friendly. We start talking about the bar. He tells me he is on a rugby team (I love rugby!) and lives in London… and this leads to makingout. Of course. Eventually I explained that I had to go home since my interview was the next day.

Well, he wasn’t keen on my going home then or later at 1am, but eventually I made my way downstairs to find if any of my friends were still around. I didn’t want to leave without one of the girls. She had my coat check ticket – for Roomie’s coat. Yes i borrowed her coat, boots, and shirt that goes down-to-there, which is why I got so much attention that night. So I text her. You have to understand I really liked this guy. He told me a number of times through the night that he was having a blast and that I was “gorgeous.” Now what girl doesn’t like to hear that she is gorgeous especially when the guys really sounds like he means it? However, his hands, like every other guy our age, have ‘roaming issues.’ (I’m wearing a skirt) So I decided it was time to head home and chalked him up to another drunk ‘fit’ boy who I’ll never see again.  Come on, I don’t make out with boys I expect to see ever again. Just imagine that awkward convo where it’s like ‘hey you again! ummm. so. snogging was fun.‘ 

So I call my leaving buddy again. My excuse to Mr. Rugby this time was that she and I had to go home together because she has my coat ticket. She can’t really hear me over the phone, and then she texts coming home so now i am really confuded. did she left? secondly, I find that somehow without my knowing he unhooked my bra. ok. now what? i finally leave a full 2hrs after i first told him i had to leave. He was uber insistent that we should go back to his flat. It’s is so difficult to say no when you’ve been drinking. I finally drag myself outside & he and exchange #s and I put my name in his phone book. Well… he never put his name in mine. So…. I don’t know his name…. at all. I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again. oh well.

So I doubted i’d hear from him again, despite his constant, “what are you doing tomorrow night? Where will you be? We should do something.” I told him to text me. He told me to text him. pshh as if I’m going to text him. nope. So never see this guy again. kinda disappointed but oh well.The next day i get a text while i am with my dad. Hey how are u? Wat did think of last nite, I had a great time. It was our last rugby game of d season yesturday, My legs are killin. Are u doin nething excitn at d weekend? x

Then on friday he texts again Im goin up to wigan2 watch d football wont b back until sunday. Do u live in london? Wud u like to go out for a drink next week? x

I respond I’d luv 2 go 4 drinks ltr this wk. Let me know when ur free – i leave fri 4 holiday. x

To Be Continued… (hopefully!)

*Leaving Buddy = The girl you pick to go home with that night – Basically to make sure that no one goes home alone. except I always went home alone… everyone always forgot me at the bars. Or I guess you could say I always forgot to leave. oops!




2 responses

11 12 2007

well, if i could high-five you right now, i probably would, but you’re like 3,000 miles away :(. sounds like quite the adventure, stay safe though (that’s my inner mom talking)

11 12 2007

huh, well you know who I am rooting for!

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