is this it

“There’s no harm in talking to him”.

This is Alice, we are out in Exeter at a club called Timepiece and she is trying to persuade me to talk to a handsome yet tragically young lad who is standing at the bar looking deep and mysterious. I shake my head and take another drink. I am pleasantly drunk for the third time in a week, but then Alice has been in town for that week so it’s a special week, a one off week. I am happy, I am smiling and that is pretty much all that matters.

Last night we went out for dinner and drunk the best part of two bottles of wine and then woke my parents up as we played music too loudly in the lounge at half past ten. It was like old times, only this time we were adults acting like children, instead of children trying to be grown up and my parents didn’t seem to mind as we turned the music down straight away.

Tonight however is Friday night and its indie night at the club, Alice and I are probably the oldest people in the club by around ten years. It is the first time I have been in a nightclub in around six years. The last time I went to a club I was in Bristol and my ex and I were out on one of his work do’s. We lasted around twenty minutes in the place. I think they played Dizzee Rascal and that was that as far as my ex was concerned.   I quite like Dizzee Rascal, I tell him in the taxi on the way home. He shrugs and tells me that all rap music is terrible.  As far as my ex was concerned music started and pretty much stopped with AC/DC.

Alice and I went to this club in our formative years, it was the first club I ever went to, as a sixteen year old back in 1996, I remember borrowing some of Alice’s clothes to make myself look older. I was shaking as I queued to get in, thinking that the doormen would see straight through my pathetic attempt to get in and humiliate me in front of a couple of hundred cool and attractive people.  It turned out that one of the doorman was Jake, a lad from our village, so we had no trouble getting in at all.

Anyway back to the club and Alice’s attempts to ‘Get me back in the saddle’ – she has been trying this all week, first with the postman, then with the mechanic at a garage, then with the Turkish waiter at the above restaurant last night and now with this lad at the club.

Last Nite

“I’m not on the pull” I tell her for the twelfth time in five days, although I have to say he is very cute, and unusually for a lad he can rock a pair of skinny jeans, he looks like a young Julian Casablancas from The Strokes as it happens.  I shake my head again, largely to get the filthy images out of my mind that were rapidly appearing thanks largely to the vodka cranberry chasers that I was drinking.

Barely Legal

The club kicks out at around 2am, and Alice and I join the queue of people waiting for taxis, it is a balmy old night, its still warm, and there is about thirty people waiting for them, it’s pretty jovial and the mood is quite good. Suddenly from across the road, someone shouts my name, well at least they shout a name, one that I have, I assume that there is someone else with that name in the queue and go back to eyeing up the burger van hungrily.  Then Alice taps me on the back, and says

“Well I never, look who it is…”

It is Kris. Kris and I had a brief dalliance when I was 16 – he was the second, no third boy I ever kissed, the first being a Scottish lad called Angus whilst on holiday in Rhyl with my parents, the second being Luke at a party who kind of just grabbed me during a game of Spin The Bottle. Kris was slightly different though, he actually liked me. When he was sixteen he was shy, innocent and sweet but now aged around 32 he had as Alice keenly pointed out as we waited for the taxi,

“Grown up nicely”.  This was followed by look so filthy that I felt like washing it.

I dumped Kris after going out with him for about three weeks. He wasn’t prepared to cycle the five miles from his house to mine to see me when I had a cold. So I told him that we ‘had no future’ and that was that. I was 16. I could barely spell the word ‘future’ let alone predict it.

“How are you?” he asked. And then we chatted, it was nice. Alice did most of the personal questions “Are you married?”, “Girlfriend?” “Gay?” that sort of thing (the answer was no to all those questions). Our taxi was ready, so Kris said his goodbyes and then a quick “Are you on Facebook?, I mean I looked you up a while back but didn’t find you…”.

I was on Facebook, then I wasn’t, so I said “sort of” and I tell him that I’ll message him. Alice grabs me and drags me to the taxi and spends the next fifteen minutes telling me that I should message him tomorrow. I just look at her and shake my head. She’s going home in three days, As I sat in the cab heading back to parents three things dawned on me, one, that I was going to miss Alice when she left, two I needed my own place and that meant three, I needed a new job.

Oh and before I go, I found a little envelope on my desk at work the other day – it was from SWC and it said inside there on a post it note “You’ve earnt this”.  It was the login and password details for this very blog,  The keys to the blog as he put it later in the office kitchen.  This means that I will now be able to respond to some of the lovely comments you guys have made – I mean I could have done before but haven’t and post whenever I like.  I’ve asked SWC if I can do one of the Saturday Song Challenges and he said ‘Don’t push it” followed by a smile.  That means yes.

Trying Your Luck