Massive Fail.
An early Friday evening, and I’m in a bar with Uncannily Similar. Our normal entourage have deserted us so it looks set to be a sedate evening for me, followed by an endlessly empty weekend pottering about wondering what my children are doing.
Uncannily Similar: Not many in here tonight.
Me: Mmmm.
U.S: Still. At least we get our usual table. Not like last week. Remember? They didn’t even put the ‘reserved’ signs out. ‘Don’t they know who we are?’ Oh, they’re starting to light the candles now.
Me: Mmmm.
I leave U.S. to his new unofficial role as narrator of the evenings’ minutiae and head to the bar, passing a young lady I vaguely recognize. We’ve become familiar to each other by sight during the past few Fridays. I smile at her in an equally vague way.
I return to the table with our drinks:
U.S: Pretty smooth.
Me: Mmmmm?
U.S: You. With that lass. Mr. Suave.
Me: Eh?
U.S: Yeah. You know.
I genuinely don’t.
The young lady in question slowly strolls past our table.
We look at each other for longer than is strictly necessary. She is actually very beautiful. Her quite lovely face breaks into a very wide smile as we gaze at each other.
I’m briefly amused by the ritual. And it might turn out to be an interesting evening after all.
U.S: Mate. Mate! Did you see that?
Me: Errrr…..
She has stopped to loiter by the pillar next to me. She’s in plain sight and earshot. For me. But out of Uncannily’s eye-line.
U.S: That look! Did you see the look she just gave you!
Me: Actually could you just-
U.S: If ‘looks could kill’ you’d be getting NOSHED OFF just then!
Me: Brilliant.
The very lovely woman with her almond eyes, dark hair and intriguing tattoo looks at me with a new-found ‘contempt by association’ and storms off. I never see her again.
U.S: Oh shit. Sorry. Shit. I didn’t see her.
Me: Actually that was probably helpful.
U.S: Christ, look….
Me: Excellent. No. Really. Great. It’s brilliant being friends with you. Do you know that?
Uncannily Similar: Not many in here tonight.
Me: Mmmm.
U.S: Still. At least we get our usual table. Not like last week. Remember? They didn’t even put the ‘reserved’ signs out. ‘Don’t they know who we are?’ Oh, they’re starting to light the candles now.
Me: Mmmm.
I leave U.S. to his new unofficial role as narrator of the evenings’ minutiae and head to the bar, passing a young lady I vaguely recognize. We’ve become familiar to each other by sight during the past few Fridays. I smile at her in an equally vague way.
I return to the table with our drinks:
U.S: Pretty smooth.
Me: Mmmmm?
U.S: You. With that lass. Mr. Suave.
Me: Eh?
U.S: Yeah. You know.
I genuinely don’t.
The young lady in question slowly strolls past our table.
We look at each other for longer than is strictly necessary. She is actually very beautiful. Her quite lovely face breaks into a very wide smile as we gaze at each other.
I’m briefly amused by the ritual. And it might turn out to be an interesting evening after all.
U.S: Mate. Mate! Did you see that?
Me: Errrr…..
She has stopped to loiter by the pillar next to me. She’s in plain sight and earshot. For me. But out of Uncannily’s eye-line.
U.S: That look! Did you see the look she just gave you!
Me: Actually could you just-
U.S: If ‘looks could kill’ you’d be getting NOSHED OFF just then!
Me: Brilliant.
The very lovely woman with her almond eyes, dark hair and intriguing tattoo looks at me with a new-found ‘contempt by association’ and storms off. I never see her again.
U.S: Oh shit. Sorry. Shit. I didn’t see her.
Me: Actually that was probably helpful.
U.S: Christ, look….
Me: Excellent. No. Really. Great. It’s brilliant being friends with you. Do you know that?
posted by Tired Dad at
10:34 pm
11 Comments:
Superb!
Never really thought about it before but you're right about contempt by association. Divvy mate = no chance mate.
Hello. Christ I'd only just pressed 'publish'. He's not a div usually, just likes to talk. A lot. And you're right - I'd been truly tarred by his idiot brush. Never mind. He's a good friend.
Most male best friends trade the 'divvy' bit. All men are Laurel and Hardy really.
so sad, m'lad.
Well, if she could be put off by your friend making silly comments, she would probably have been VERY high maintenance, drain you emotionally and leave you a charnel-husk of a man before she leaves you for another bloke.
just assume he's done you a favour :-)
Ali x
Hmm... not sure - I think when you're trying to guage what someone is like without much information, it's reasonable to make deductions from the company he keeps. Not that I ever chat women up, but if I were to, her being surrounded by a nudge-nudge "you're in there" friend wouldn't reflect well on her in my eyes,
She'd love you if she read your blog.
Bongo: 'spose. I'm now wondering which one I am. So thanks for that.
punx: Tragic in fact.
Ali: 'VERY high maintenance, drain you emotionally and leave you a charnel-husk of a man before she leaves you for another bloke' That's just made me feel very uneasy for a number of reasons.
looby: I hear you.
Ellie: I sincerely doubt that but thanks for saying so. Just in case you're right I'm getting some t-shirts printed with the URL and my mobile number on the front.
Bless.
Does the name "Uncannily Similar" indicate that you might have done something uncannily similar if roles were reversed?
One hopes not, but you are the one with the intruder housecats, so the question is there.
Anon: Hello whoever you are.
Sew: Funny you should ask. We're getting less similar with each passing day now I think about it. No less friends though. Don't know what you're on about with the cats, mind.
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